Over the years I have come to recognize, without even looking, exactly what a buckeye sounds like as it tumbles from the washing machine, hitting the hardwood while clothes are being transferred to the dryer.
Here's to another fall of pregame traditions and cheesepuff consumption, full pockets and completed passes.
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Oh come let's sing Ohio's praise
And songs to Alma Mater raise
While our hearts rebounding thrill
With joy which death alone can still
Summer's heat or winter's cold
The seasons pass the years will roll
Time and change will surely show
How firm thy friendship ... OHIO!
I love those "JUNIOR BUCKEYES"!
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