*Sorry for the length, but this is me. I have been an on/off poster here but I hope to be more involved in the future. Hope you enjoy!*
A Legacy and a Home
In the small town of East Liberty, Ohio, a factory worker and his wife welcomed their first child into the world in 1940. My great grandfather walked to work every day, and was almost always occupied. That did not stop him from being a father to his son, always making time to play catch with his boy. He was stern, demanding excellence, but he was also incredibly loving. He had a hard life, but he never let those circumstances affect who he was to his family.
Five other kids, two boys and three girls, would follow my grandfather into that small Ohio house. To say the house was cramped at times would be an understatement. My grandfather, a great student, would attend Ohio Northern for his undergraduate degree. He paved a path for his siblings to follow to attend college, which all of them did. While his parents could not help much financially, my grandfather made it work. For graduate school, he decided to attend The Ohio State University. He met his wife, my grandmother, who was born in Orrville, somewhere along the way, and they lived in a small apartment in Columbus while he finished his degree.
After he finished school, my grandparents and their baby girl moved to West Virginia, away from their family and all they knew. With a nice job at a plant in Charleston, they had another child: my dad. My grandfather was much like his dad, as he was strict, but very loving. He travelled the world as part of his job while still leading his family, being the head of the household, and following the Bucks closely. His daughter, who was a phenomenal tennis player, had scholarship offers from many programs in the area. She denied many of the better offers, opting to take a lesser scholarship at Ohio State. With all of this happening, my dad grew up dreaming of going there. After applying and being accepted, my dad was set to follow in his dad’s, sister’s, and several aunts’ and uncles’ footsteps of being a Buckeye.
While at Ohio State, my dad met my mom. They went to all the football games, most basketball games, and several hockey games. My dad, who was a much bigger sports fan than my mom, would always read the Buckeye Sports Bulletin in order to be up to date on recruiting. He even worked for the football program’s recruiting department. He knew the players height, weight, and hometown. He was, and still is, a die-hard fan. After both of my parents graduated, they got married and moved back to Charleston, in order to be close to my grandparents.
In 1997, I entered the world in Charleston. After being in Charleston for two years with me, my dad’s work led our family to the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. My parents raised me and my younger sister to love the Buckeyes and hate the Wolverines. I can remember humming the Michigan fight song as a toddler while watching a game of theirs and getting in a lot of trouble. Being a Buckeye was a way of life. For Halloween, I went as a TBDBITL member one year, and Santonio Holmes the next. My room had, and still has, the helmet stripe painted horizontally around it. I even got Scott McMullen’s (I don’t blame you if you don’t know who he is. Look him up.) autograph at a spring game in 2005 when my dad pointed him out. I was given no other option than to be a Buckeye.
Even though we were almost seven hours away, we never lost touch with Ohio. My fondest memories growing up reside in that house in East Liberty. The Thanksgiving meals followed by football in the snow, the freezing cold rooms upstairs that we slept in, the old and boring Christmas music my great grandmother would play, and the Fourth of July parades with people riding their John Deere lawnmowers. All of those moments and more made me love Ohio, even though I had never lived there a day.
Around 8th grade, my family’s fandom started to become my own. I began to follow recruiting. I even got a Twitter account just to stay as up-to-date as possible. On signing day, I would go to the bathroom just to confirm, or see, who we got. I remember standing in a bathroom stall as I found out Vonn Bell committed. At this point, I knew the team better than my dad. When the team won, I made sure my friends knew. When they lost, I wasn’t allowed to live it down.
My freshman year, I decided to try out for an elite travel soccer team. I made it, which meant I could likely play college soccer. I went to multiple Ohio State camps attempting to sway the coaches and be noticed, but it wasn’t meant to be. After receiving no interest, my hopes of playing college soccer began to diminish. I was heartbroken. I could play at DII or DIII schools, but if I wasn’t playing at Ohio State, I didn’t want to play.
As I approached my senior year, it was time to look at colleges. Obviously Ohio State would be one of my top choices, but I wanted to give every school a fair chance, because maybe one would feel like home. I visited Virginia Tech, William and Mary, Wake Forest, and Dartmouth among others, but nothing made me feel the way Columbus did. I filled out my application and submitted it, which started the longest and most agonizing two months of my life.
Some may call it destiny, and they may be right. The legacy that started with my great grandfather in that small Ohio house continues with me today. That house in East Liberty is not just a house, but my home; it’s who I am. Though Virginia is the only place I ever remember living in, I am coming home to continue a family legacy that is bigger than me. I am a Buckeye.
