Saturday's seat was one of the best yet. In the south stands, I was given a chair seat on the lower handicap walkway, the very first chair just across the aisle from the band, right above the student section and immediately below Block O. It provided a backrest for this old man, room to stretch my legs, a railing to lean on, and all the people watching that goes with sitting in the students and enjoying their revelry.

Better than that, it was right in front of a portal, mere steps from the men's room and hot dog stand. I could get in and out and do both during a TV timeout!! (You old guys will appreciate that.)

But best of all, it was right in line with the trajectory of the winning kick. I looked right down the track of that thing. It was so straight and so true, I knew it was good the minute it cleared the line! And when they opened the gates to the field on that aisle way, and the kids started rushing it, I thought what the heck, I can too! Down the aisle I charged.

Perhaps you saw among all those nineteen and twenty-year-olds a short stubby bald guy in red and gray running the 40 yard dash. I am quite sure I didn't do it in Terrelle's time, but perhaps I did match Jim Cordle or Bryant Browning. In any case, there I was at midfield jammed in the mass of Buckeye Humanity, standing next to Nathan Williams, slapping him on the shoulder pads and congratulating him as we all rode the high and did the jump around.

A young man in front of me had 3 roses. I asked him where he got them, hoping he might share one. "Kroger" he said, "Would you like one?" Of course I thought. Actually, he shared two. Unfortunately, they went to the two shapely coeds standing beside me who smiled seductively at him when he asked that question. Smart kid.

Once out there you couldn't go anywhere except where the pile aimlessly pushed you, so we just rode the wave and collectively savored the moment. The stars were shining, the night electric, and for a while, I was young again.

In time came the moment to sing Carmen Ohio. Problem was, no way could we hear the band nor get the crowd quiet. They flashed the words on the scoreboard and then started them over. There were all these little pockets of Carmen Ohio going, each one on a different verse and different key, but all heartfelt and meaningful.

In time the moment ebbed, the team left the field and we moved on both literally and figuratively. Literally, the crowd thinned. Figuratively, those left struck up the Ohio State Alma Matter II... We don't give a damn for the whole state...

Sunday morning some loser at CBS.com wrote a hack job of a column lambasting the team, Tressel, the Big Ten and said all 100,000 fans were booing in the stadium. I don't know what game that guy watched, but on behalf of those of us at that midfield, on that night, I will say to him "Ask me if I care buddy!"

This will always be one to remember.