Fish and Chipps: The Ohio State of Mind

As I walked into my parents’ new house in Charlotte, North Carolina, last May, I couldn’t help but think of home.

I had just returned to the United States after an amazing experience studying abroad in London and traveling in Europe, and all I wanted was to sit on my lumped and broken green couch with my two dogs and chill at home.

But something was different. I had my family, the world’s two best dogs (Apollo and Winnie), the same funny laughs and good times, but something was off and I could sense it.

The famous green couch was nowhere to be found, and as I stumbled to try and figure out how to replace my go-to chill spot, it all hit me: This isn’t home.

Home is where the heart is, and my heart is, and will always be, in Ohio.

Ohio doesn’t seem like much of a place from an outsider’s perspective, but she means so much to me.

You probably don’t know much about greatest state in the United States, so let me explain.

It’s the place you’ve heard of, but have never actually been to. It’s the place where your second cousin twice removed went to college and your great uncle worked at in a steel mill for 25 years until he got laid off.

That’s where I’m from: O-H-I-O.

I’m an Ohio kid. I was born there, raised there, bred there and tailor-made there. Being from Ohio doesn’t encapsulate me, but it made me.

She polished me and tutored me. She taught me how to find purpose and how to do the right thing. She held my hand as I knocked off all the “firsts” on my bucket list. She saved me and scolded me. She was loyal to me even when I didn’t deserve it.

Scarlet and grey is what bleeds out of me, because the 614 is what molded me. It’s where I discovered my love for writing. It’s where I learned I was the furthest thing from perfect, and it’s where I learned that humbleness is a much more desirable quality than stubbornness.

No one ever plans to live in Ohio, but I’m thankful I did. Columbus, Ohio, will never jump out at you on a map, but she sure will sure take good care of you if you happen to land there. No one comes to Ohio thinking they’ll stay there forever, but I sure wish I could.

I love Ohio, and I know she loves me too.

Ohio is the underdog kid of this great nation. You don’t expect much from us, but we always exceed expectations. We’re the overachievers who got picked last in the backyard football game and surprisingly put the team on our backs. We’re the good guys who always hold the door open for the older woman and ask how your day is going at the Starbucks counter.

We say please and thank you. We never leave a fellow Ohioan behind. And we always buy the first round.

We don’t complain, give excuses, or “talk” about doing something.

You hear those New Yorkers always complaining about how much work they have to do? Oh yeah? We just do the work.

We rise and grind every single day because we don’t know any other way. What’s a half-day? I’ve never heard of one of those things before. Sounds like something those California folk invented to go surfing on Wednesdays. Did you know you can surf in Ohio? Lake Erie has killer waves, brah.

We don’t envy those ungrateful and spoiled Boston sports fans. We know the bond with our sports teams goes deeper than winning or losing. It’s family. We don’t put our last names on the back of the jerseys because no one player is bigger than the team. We believe in curses, second chances and the Cleveland Browns because we have the greatest characteristic of any naive sports fan: hope.

It’s why we’ve been waking up at 7 a.m. every Saturday for the last 25 years to tailgate in the same parking spot for Ohio State football games. It’s why, when Craig Krenzel threw up that Hail Mary pass to Michael Jenkins on fourth-and-one against Purdue in 2002, we held our breath. It’s why we still believe that Andy Dalton is the Cincinnati Bengals’ “quarterback of the future,” even though he’ll probably single-handedly lose the Bengals’ next playoff game.

We invented the phrase, “There’s always next year.”

It’s why we sing Carmen Ohio at the end of every Ohio State football game.

“The seasons pass, the years will roll.

Time and change will surely show.

How firm thy friendship: O-HI-O.”

We win together, we lose together and we fight together. It’s the Ohio state of mind.

Most people don’t understand why I rep Ohio all day everyday, and I get it. You’ve probably never had Graeter’s Ice Cream or eaten a corned beef sandwich from Katzinger’s before. You’ve probably never seen how magical “The Horseshoe” can become when 100,000 people unite to watch the Ohio State vs. Michigan game. You’ve probably never had that world famous Ohio hospitality or that terribly mediocre Donatos pizza.

You’ve probably never even been to Ohio before, so this whole thing may just be a bit too Ohioan for you.

But this is me, and it’s who I’ll always be.

O-H-I-O.

Home is where the heart is, and my heart is, and always will be, in Ohio.

(P.S. If you don’t like it, that’s fine — people from the state up north aren’t too fond of our kind anyway.)