Before the melee, the pepper spray and the vicious booing that punctuated a rivalry that has gone too far, there were sideline tears. There were two minutes left between the Ohio State Buckeyes and Michigan Wolverines—still faint but fading hope that the home team could find a way to win the game that has haunted them. The pain of the moment had already overwhelmed Ryan Day’s family.

Tears streamed down his teenage daughters’ frozen cheeks on the Ohio State sideline. The score was tied, but the end was near. Michigan thudded the ball into the middle of the line of scrimmage over and over, killing time before sending out the field goal unit. Dominic Zvada knocked in a chip shot for a 13–10 lead, the Buckeyes’ final possession was four plays of futility and when it was over, there was no holding back the sadness. Sobs ensued.

Earlier this week, Day told an Ohio TV station how much his three-game losing streak to Michigan had affected himself and his family: “It’s one of the worst things that’s happened to me in my life, quite honestly. Other than losing my father and a few other things, like it’s quite honestly, for my family, the worst thing that’s happened. So we can never have that happen again, ever.”

It happened again. In a game Ohio State was supposed to win in a landslide. With a $20 million roster that was put together in a direct, urgent, all-in response to watching Michigan win the national title last season.

Seeing how much a fourth straight loss to the Wolverines tore up Day’s kids—and then seeing the teams engage in a postgame brawl—it’s time for a reality check. This has all become too much.

Urban Meyer turned Michigan-Ohio State into something approaching life and death, and dominated the rivalry. Jim Harbaugh regrouped and retaliated with three straight wins, while staffer Connor Stalions engaged in ridiculous sign-stealing espionage—that skulduggery led to a Harbaugh suspension by the Big Ten and is the subject of an ongoing NCAA investigation. And now we have a postgame scene that should embarrass both schools—but probably won’t.

The match that lit this postgame conflagration was when the Wolverines ran their flag to the middle of Ohio Stadium and planted it on the scarlet “O.” The Buckeyes were just starting to glumly mumble their way through the traditional “Carmen Ohio” postgame song facing the student body when boos from the crowd erupted and alerted the players to what was happening behind them. 

Baker Mayfield once did the same thing here, in 2017, after an Oklahoma victory. But this is Michigan, the eternal rival. The Ohio State players sprinted to confront them, and blows appeared to land among dozens of players and staff members. Law enforcement jumped into the fray and began wantonly pepper-spraying everyone—players, coaches, media members, whoever was in the vicinity. It was an overreaction to an overreaction.

Ohio State University Police issued a statement Saturday afternoon: “Following the game, officers from multiple law enforcement agencies assisted in breaking up an on-field altercation. During the scuffle, multiple officers representing Ohio and Michigan deployed pepper spray. OSUPD is the lead agency for games & will continue to investigate.”

Day, when asked about the melee, said: “I don’t know all the details of it, but these guys are looking to put a flag on our field and our guys weren’t going to let that happen.”

The better response to a humiliating loss and Michigan’s taunting would have been to simply keep your heads down and get off the field. But this was another example of a rivalry gone overboard.

It’s a football game, man. And it has run off the leash of perspective, into an unhealthy realm that it didn’t used to occupy. Yeah, there have been moments: Ohio State players tearing down the “Go Blue” banner in Michigan Stadium in the 1970s; Woody Hayes broke a sideline marker over his knee in 1973. But now we’ve reached a point where losing is literally intolerable.

John Cooper got 13 years as coach of the Buckeyes with a 2–10–1 record against Michigan. Harbaugh lost his first four against Ohio State as coach of the Wolverines, but got a chance to turn that around. Such patience seems unrealistic in the current toxic times.

Day is 66–10 at Ohio State, a ridiculous record, and yet it isn’t good enough to keep him from being booed off the field by the angriest non-NFL crowd I’ve ever heard. His kids had to listen to it. This is what Day signed up for as coach of the Buckeyes—and he’s paid phenomenally well, more than $10 million a year. Beating Michigan is part of the assignment—especially a 6–5, three-touchdown-underdog Michigan that is muddling through life after Harbaugh.

But to think—and say—that it “can never happen again, ever,” is both unrealistic and extreme. The burden of a rivalry he can’t win has become too much.

So it’s time to hit reset, for Day and for Ohio State. There are a lot of power-conference schools that would love to have him, and it’s clear the Buckeye faithful would love to have someone else. Athletic director Ross Bjork exited the Ohio Stadium field to shouts from the stands exhorting him to get a new coach. He should listen to those exhortations and find a way out of the school’s relationship with Day, which is contractually slated to run through 2029.

But here’s the wildly awkward part: Ohio State almost certainly is going to the College Football Playoff. It still has a shot at the national championship, maybe even a good shot, since it won’t have to play nemesis Michigan again.

Has any school in this position ever faced the need to change coaches?

If Ohio State wins it all, a 1–4 record in an all-consuming rivalry can be forgiven. Which actually ramps up the pressure on Day, assuming he wants to stay—win the title or be gone. To win that title, he has to find a way to regroup this team, which might now be trending toward a road playoff game instead of one in The Horseshoe.

“We can still run the table and win the national championship,” said Ohio State quarterback Will Howard, when he wasn’t apologizing over and over for a two-interception struggle.

The Buckeyes must fix their offense before Dec. 20 or 21, dates of the playoff first-round games. This was a disaster for that unit—from coordinator Chip Kelly’s insistence on staying with an ineffective running game against an excellent run defense, to Howard’s mistakes, to the inability to get its elite receiving corps open for big plays. Ohio State had just one play longer than 18 yards—a pass in the flat to TreVeyon Henderson that went for 24 yards due to a Michigan coverage bust.

But mostly, Ohio State has to show it can handle the pressure of a national championship quest. Because it sure can’t handle the pressure of the Michigan rivalry.

After being crushed by the Wolverines in 2021 and ’22, the Buckeyes came close last year in the Big House against the eventual national champions. They came close this year as well, but this should never have been close. Pandemic season aside, this is the worst Michigan team since ’14. The Wolverines’ quarterbacking issues have been glaring all season, and they nearly cost them this game—Davis Warren answered Howard’s painful picks with two bad ones of his own.

And yet, it was Michigan punching out first downs with the game on the line. Ohio State had none in the fourth quarter, and none in the last 20 minutes of the game. With all that talent.

The longer this game was close, the worse the aura became for the Buckeyes. A crowd of 106,005 was prone to stretches of dread-laced, brooding silence. Two missed field goals shorter than 40 yards added to an aura of doom. You could almost feel the weight of it all crushing everyone in scarlet and gray.

And you could see it on the faces of Day’s daughters. It was painful. It’s a football game that has become something bigger, and not in a good way. What might be the greatest of all college rivalries needs a reset.