Being the Black Sheep

I’ve long known that I’m the black sheep of my family. I’m the only one in my family (including aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.) that isn’t a Michigan Wolverines fan. I’m an Ohio State Buckeyes fan. I’ve gotten all kinds of grief over this, but I don’t care. I love the Buckeyes. I don’t know why. I just do. Sure, they’re playing like shit this year. I still love them.

I’m also a black sheep among other Ohio State fans, mainly because most of them creep me out. As much as I love my team, I’m not going to go up to strangers and start talking to them just because they’re wearing clothing that has my team’s logo on it. They will and it annoys the crap out of me. Leave me the hell alone.

One guy, the reason I’m writing this, creeped me out more than most. I have an Ohio State hat that I’ve had for years. It was, until I washed it, really dingy-looking and smelled like sweat. I was wearing it when this guy walks up to me and says, “I like your hat.” I say thanks and try to walk away. He starts to follow me, still talking about the hat. I say, “Yeah, I need to wash it.” He says, “No, you don’t. Wear it with pride. Blah blah blah, Woody Hayes.”

I nod and tell him I have to go. Then, I walk away from him as quickly as I can. The way he said “wear it with pride,” scared me. The tone of his voice was something normally reserved for females and only heard by lonely guys after giving their credit card number.

For any Ohio State fans out there, listen closely. If I don’t know you, don’t come up and talk to me. Just because we like the same college team, doesn’t mean we’re friends.

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