Admit it. You watch the Buckeyes on TV, analyzing their every play, and internally you're congratulating yourselfafter every touchdown.
"Pssh. Exactly what I would've done. Maybe a secret organization is picking up my toughts and relaying them to Tom Herman and Urban Meyer. Is that real? Is that a thing that exists? ...Nah. Maybe?"
And then a few seconds afterward you start to think "tight end sweep" or something equally ridiculous really really hard in the faint hope that your brilliant scheme will reach the Ohio State football staff, and they will immediately implement your perfect plan for victory.
Don't even lie. I know you do it. You do it now, even though one of the greatest offensive minds in college football is the head coach and has one of the biggest offensive wunderkinds this side of Gus Malzahn helping to guide the likes of Braxton Miller and Philly Brown to their ultimate destinies as champions and Heisman winners. And if you do it with them, you were definitely second guessing Jim Bollman on a regular basis.
But that's okay! I do it too, and that's all part of being a fan. We second guess everyone and everything, even when things go literally perfectly (like, 12-0 perfect). It's in our miserable, wonderful nature to want to be the guy that a desperate Urban Meyer eagerly hands his headset to in order to beat Michigan with some dumbass triple reverse fullback option Hail Mary for a 99 yard touchdown.
And you know what? They should be so lucky to have us! We're smart! We watch football! You don't have to be a Ross Fulton to know which way the football bounces, dammit.
Screw it. Urbz and Hermz, I'm gonna do you a solid. Four Johnny Ginter specials, whipped up on the fly, guaranteed to score touchdowns and make womanly tears drip from your stony Cormac McCarthyian faces.
THE WEE VANDAL
Trips wide left. Chubby trips. Like, the three biggest dudes on the team. Doesn't matter if they are actually receivers or have ever technically caught anything with their hands in their entire life.
Shotgun formation, with Braxton Miller standing about 5 yards behind the center. He begins the play by Carlos Hyde running left toward the trips. Casually glancing at the coverage (like it matters at it all), he nods assuredly to Hyde and whichever huge dudes they got to stand in formation.
At the snap, Hyde and two of the big uglies assume a blocking position while the remaining player sprints downfield, screaming his head off. Braxton Miller steps back, cocks his arm, and heaves a pass to...
Five foot seven Devonte Butler, the shortest player on the team, who had been ducking behind the offensive line the entire time. This furtive pygmy finally gets his time to shine, and his wheel route right will catch any opposing team off guard as they try and concentrate on the feet and arm of Braxton.
THE GO LONG
Braxton Miller takes the snap on third and long from his own 43.
Philly Brown, Jordan Hall, and Devin Smith run out about 20 yards and turn to face their QB.
Philly and Devin put their hands on their hips, while Devin jogs out five yards deeper. "This is far as you can throw!"
"No it isn't! I can throw farther! Real far!"
The trio walks back another five feet, as Braxton Miller sighs and runs backwards another 15 yards. With a glint in his eye, he screws up his face and concentrates as hard as he possibly can.
And punts the ball out of bounds as Jim Tressel sheds a single tear.
The Snuggle Bunny
Every single member of the team, both on the field and off, emits a high pitched scream for the entirety for the game clock, taking a delay of game penalty. The team continues to scream for the next play, which consists of Braxton Miller taking a knee six yards in the backfield. The team continues to go backwards down the field, never stopping their terrible, horrible screaming, until they finally reach their own goal line.
At this point, with the stadium completely silent because of the horror that is unfolding before them, the football team sacrifices a small goat in their endzone as the other team forfeits before their souls are ensnared by the Lovecraftian terror that is Molag Baal.
The Shaggy Dog
This one, like all good plays, requires a large amount of preparation before it can be put into action.
Roughly 4 years before the game, Urban Meyer needs to go to a local animal shelter and pick out a large border collie/golden retriever mix. Through months of intense training, the dog finally learns how sit, stay, shake, and catch a regulation size college football in his mouth.
The play begins with only 10 Ohio State players on the field. Just before the snap, each member of the team distracts one of the seven field officials as the dog (by now named "Brutus" or "Woody" or something equally endearing and adorable) runs on the field and lines up in the slot receiver position.
Before the head referee can check the rulebook to see if well-trained dogs are allowed to be college football players (THEY TOTALLY ARE), Braxton fakes a hand off to the kangaroo that was recruited the previous season and throws a perfect spiral, which reaches the aforementioned doggy in the endzone. Chaos, pandemonium, wagging tails, etc. ensue.
So there you have it! Four perfectly designed football plays, ready for your disposal, Mr. Meyer. Use them as you will, and my email is firstname.lastname@example.org if you have any questions about how to effectively run an offense. I look forward to reading your panicked texts as you ask me what to do on 4th down against Wisconsin.