I hate football. The fans lose their minds and endure crowded stadiums to watch their teams run back and forth on a field. My first experience with the sport was in the high school marching band. Being forced to perform at halftime shows for my small town was not what I enjoyed doing on a Friday night. Sitting on the near-frozen stands with hand warmers shoved in my pockets, shoes, hat, and gloves was miserable. We would wait to play until the team scored a goal, which was rare. After some time, the band director would take pity on the frozen band and direct us to cheer, play, or send everyone home early.

Football was never my sport. I lived many peaceful years without it. However, it would seem that I would never be rid of it. My high school days were behind me, and I moved across the country. At the time, my family was gathering for Thanksgiving. As usual, it was all smiles and laughter. My grandfather greeted me at the door with a hug and a hello, sweetheart. Without thinking, I joked about his choice of attire, a Michigan University jacket. After all, Ohio State is obviously better. His smile changed into a look of repulsion as if I had spit upon the family name. Little did I know, I started a rivalry that would span for several years.

My grandfather invited me over a few weeks later, and we watched the game. Much to my pleasure, Ohio State won. Over the next months, whenever I had the chance to bring up the win, I did. He would roll his eyes and declare Michigan had a terrible team and would do better next year. If he wasn’t using that excuse, it was that the coaches were not calling the best plays. He didn’t even entertain the thought that Michigan University would lose again.

Fall came faster that next year and football season started up in full force. I would receive texts about how good Michigan was doing that season and how Ohio better watch out. So, with the turkey in the oven, we were set to greet our guests for Thanksgiving dinner. My grandparents entered the house sporting Michigan jackets and wearing blue and yellow shirts. My grandpa hugged me and asked what happened to my car.

In a panic, I rushed outside and paused. Over the previous months, my little Ford Focus was already hit twice on this street. It looked to be intact without a scratch on it. I circled to the back of the car and froze. Stuck to the bumper was a Michigan University helmet sticker. I whirled around to my grandparents. They were laughing in the doorway.

That Christmas, I got a flag for my grandpa proclaiming House Divided because the rivalry had officially begun.

Michigan did not fare as well as my grandparents had hoped. It was another win for Ohio State. However, my grandfather had the last laugh. If I stopped for gas, people would see the bumper sticker and exclaim, Let’s Go Blue. I would mutter something and get into my Focus. This continued for months until I finally took the sticker off the bumper, much to my grandpa’s amusement and disappointment.

The next year, we went all out. My grandfather hung the flag outside his house. I wore my buckeye necklace, and my grandparents were sporting their Michigan finest. The game began, and even my grandma, who never liked football, was rooting and hollering for the team. We had pizza and snacks, and there was no shortage of trash talk. Although, there were a few moments in the game where I began to sweat, especially because Michigan was pulling ahead on the scoreboard. Was I going to have to swallow my pride if they won? My grandfather wore the biggest Cheshire Cat grin, waiting for the moment.

He was sure that they were going to snag the win until Ohio State pulled them into overtime. The air was tense as we watched each team try to score that winning touchdown. The phone rang at one point, and we all rushed to turn it off. There was no way we were missing a moment of this game. Michigan lost, much to my relief. My grandpa threw up his hands and walked to the bathroom. While he was gone, I changed his Facebook profile picture to one I had made in Paint. His prized Mustang now sported a red stripe, and he wore an Ohio State jersey. He was not thrilled, but I had secured my bragging rights for another season.

Life began to change after football season ended. I accepted a job as a manager and couldn’t take the day off during the next game. That did not stop us from messaging each other throughout my shift with the scores and clips of the best plays. We heckled each other over Facebook posts and text messages. Ohio State won again!

For Christmas, I got him a Michigan State Tumbler to show there were no hard feelings. After all, I had secured bragging rights for several seasons in a row. Much to my surprise, he was insulted and amused at the gift. He gave a formal education that they were not the same colleges and that Michigan University was far superior. I got him a replacement tumbler with Michigan University and he made sure to use it as often as he could.

My brother and sister got involved and watched the next Ohio State vs. Michigan Uni game with us. They enjoyed the trash-talking and the heckling. We ate pizza and grazed on snacks. There was cheering and yelling throughout the game. My Grandfather pointed out every play and explained to everyone why they succeeded or why they failed. Even though the rivalry was still there, it was fun to watch the game with everyone. Much to my Grandpa’s frustration and my pleasure, Ohio State won that game, too.

Life changed again during the next season and my grandfather made it big. While working at a theme park, people started taking pictures of him. At first, it was only one or two people. That didn’t last long. Soon, more people were taking pictures. When he finally asked why, they told him he looked like Stan Lee.

My older sister and I suggested he go to MegaCon in Orlando to test the theory. We went every chance we could and made a tradition out of it. That year he came as well. His resemblance to Stan Lee didn’t go unnoticed. We couldn’t move anywhere on the show floor because people swarmed him. He was interviewed on the local news, and he received numerous invites to a bunch of conventions.

Since he was invited to a convention and I had to work, we didn’t get to watch the Ohio State vs. Michigan game that year. In his mid-70s, he never thought he would be so busy, but he was having the time of his life. While we were bummed not to get to watch it together, we still texted the scores to each other. Michigan had secured the win. Although I insisted that since we didn’t watch it together, it didn’t count. He laughed it off and agreed to keep the peace.

This past year, we watched the game together. It was the first time that I didn’t root for Ohio State. We watched from a hospital room on a small television as my grandpa lay in a hospital bed.

The cancer had come on so fast that no one had time to prepare. Even after getting out of surgery only a few hours prior, he watched the game. Or at least he tried to. He would doze in and out. Michigan played better than I had ever seen. It was as if they were performing at their best just for my grandpa. They were making plays that even I was impressed with.

As the last few minutes of the game started to count down, I woke my grandpa up. He watched as Michigan won. Even on his tired face, his smug smile shined bright. He looked at me and quietly laughed. I had always thought if Michigan won, swallowing my pride would be the toughest pill to swallow. But in the moment, I couldn’t have been happier. I got him a Michigan blanket that Christmas, and he used it every chance he got.

He fought hard but passed away in January of 2023. I went out a few weeks later and placed a Michigan sticker on the bumper of my car. A few people have asked me about it or have given me the typical Let’s Go Blue. I smile and laugh to myself each time. It’s what he would have wanted and no doubt what he would have done if he had the time.

I don’t know if I’ll watch the Ohio State vs. Michigan game this year. I always hated football and never liked watching it. I didn’t understand the people in the stands losing their minds over it. However, there is something about the game. It brings people together. Even those with deep-seated rivalries enjoy it. Somewhere along the way, I ended up watching the sport more and analyzed the plays as my grandfather had explained them to me.

The thing about football is that it isn’t all about the game. There is a thrill to figuring out the plays and watching your team win. However, there is something special about being with the people you love. Football brings people together to cheer for or against a team. Some people will argue that they love the sport and that’s it.

However, to me, it was never about the game. It was about the conversations we had over pizza, the bragging rights, the pranks, the teaching moments, the smiles, and the laughter. So, when you are watching your teams play this year, take a minute or two and look around the room. Enjoy the moment and look beyond the screen at the memories in the making. They will last a lifetime.

In Memory of Daniel David Gruden

September 11, 1949 – January 9, 2023