For many Ohio State fans, hate is a four-letter word directed squarely toward Michigan. A swath of Buckeye Nation sees nothing wrong with spewing angry epithets at the Maize and Blue, then doubling down by dancing on the Wolverines’ grave.
But what type of hate are we talking about, because not all forms of abhorrence are the same. One might hate liver and onions without wanting to see it embarrassed on national TV. Or you might hate being late to parties, but not enough to plot revenge against the timekeeper.
I detest spiders. My wife loathes mice. See them. Kill them. Is that hate? Or fear-induced phobia?
Then there is righteous indignation, burning red over child abuse, domestic violence, human trafficking and racial injustice. Hate, hate, hate, hate.
The more personal the offense, real or perceived, the more hatred becomes a matter of the heart. And often a heart that is hardened by unforgiveness.
What has Michigan done to make you hate it?
So let me ask, what has Michigan done to you? I mean directly? I ask because I’ve been noodling on what Michigan coach Kyle Whittingham recently said about the Ohio State-Michigan rivalry, specifically responding to a question about whether he hates the Buckeyes.
“A rivalry can be intense and emotional without the hatred factor. I don’t think there’s any place for that,” Whittingham said in July. “I think Ryan Day is a good person, and to sit here and say, ‘I hate Ryan Day,’ I’d be making crap up, because that’s not true.”
Two weeks later, Whittingham added, “Do we have a better chance to win if I hated them? I don’t understand.”
Time to educate.
Hatred in sports is different from hatred of, say, cancer. Animosity toward an opposing player or team is somewhat cartoonish, a drummed-up act of repulsion that fuels fandom.
The danger – and here is where I agree with Whittingham – is that when hatred distorts from the Yosemite Sam vs. Bugs Bunny variety into personal attacks that cross the line from “healthy” hostility into the dysfunction of a darkened heart, it becomes something venomous and ugly.
Granted, the majority of OSU fans do not fall into the category of what Kirk Herbstreit famously described as the “lunatic fringe,” but I am curious where most fall on the Hate Michigan meter. Is the intense dislike mostly all in fun? Or is something more sinister at work?
Say this for Whittingham: By going on the offensive with his lack of hatred for Ohio State, he put OSU on the defensive over how to respond to it. To mock the UM coach’s comments is to play the part of Mr. Potter in “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Is that what the Buckeyes want? To become the bad guys? But to accept Whittingham’s commitment to kumbaya is to diffuse the loathing that helps make the rivalry so riveting.
A confession: I am not innocent here, having revved up the rivalry with sometimes hyperbolic writing that, among other jabs, questioned Jim Harbaugh’s sanity. (Note: I have also gone double barrel on Michigan for being cheaters, for which I make no apology, as it falls under the previously mentioned heading of righteous indignation). In that regard, I tip my cap to Whittingham for providing needed perspective to The Game.
Hot take, based on anecdotal evidence: My fellow Boomers, joined by Gen X, are more guilty of playing the overheated hate Michigan card than the younger crowd. I recently listened to a podcast in which the guest described Gen Z as the kindest collection of humans in history. I’m not sure about that, but my experience is that 20-somethings are less prone to flame-throwing, at least face to face, than their elders.
Gen Z brings kinder hatred to Ohio State-Michigan rivalry
Needing research to test my conclusion, I contacted two members of Gen Z – my 29-year-old twins – to drill deeper.
“Young people don’t get this thing of making hatred your whole personality,” my son said. “I definitely get the ick seeing Gen X/Boomers actually seeming to be invested in making sure the rival team knows how much they suck.”
Addressing the cesspool that social media can be, my son admitted that younger people can be cruel online, but “I do think Gen Z has seen the depths of what people stoop to online, and the majority of them want nothing to do with that.”
My daughter chimed in, “What Gen Z loves, though, is ‘the tea.’ A more gentle version of taking someone down to their face with cursing/rage is to gossip about them behind their back, either in person or online. It’s more satisfying to have a juicy story about the head coach or a player than to just cuss him out.”
Then something funny (to me) happened. Both of my kids made sure to add, “I hate Michigan.”
“But I wouldn’t take to the stands and [attack UM players] at a game with colorful language. It more lives inside my heart.,” my daughter clarified.
“I want OSU to win 72-0 and make those losers feel the humiliation they deserve, but in a strictly sports-related, competitive way,” my son emphasized.
Interesting. Again, how to define hate? And what is acceptable as it relates to sports rivalries? Maybe this? Despising your “enemy” in an embellished, non-foulmouthed, almost wink-wink way is clean fun, but to want them to suffer eternal damnation and feel intense pain is taking things too far.
I think that’s what Whittingham was getting at. And now the Buckeyes and their fans are on the clock. Give peace a chance? Or burn down the Big House? What’s it going to be?
This article originally appeared on The Columbus Dispatch: Ohio State fans say they hate Michigan, but what exactly do they mean?
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Reporting by Rob Oller, Columbus Dispatch / The Columbus Dispatch
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By Rob Oller, Columbus Dispatch | USA TODAY Network
