Anyone know where a traveling American might be able to watch the Ohio State – Michigan game (this years World’s Most Biggest Game Ever) in Dublin. It’s Saturday at 3:30 E.S.T.
I have no idea…
…but…
O H
Ahem.
GO BLUE!!!
Not to hijack the orignal post, but have you tried looking for an ESPN Zone or similar sports-themed bar/restaurant? They’re everywhere these days, it might be possible to find something like that in Dublin.
I O
There’s also a pay for view thing on OSU’s website. Tom was thinking about it when one of the games wasn’t broadcasted here, but he’s not THAT die hard of a fan.
Don’t MAKE me trot out my Michigan jokes.
Tin soldiers and Nixon comin’.
We’re finally on our own.
This autumn I hear the drummin’.
Four - zip in Ohio. 
djm
Though I’m not a football fan by any stretch the excitement is contagious. Michigan usually loses so I expect nothing less.
Ohio’s mascot is a Goomba?
no,no,no
That’s Brutus the Buckeye.
He’s a buckeye nut - kinda sideways.
Not to be mistaken with the buckeye candy, which is peanutbutter and chocolate.
You have to be here…
Actually, Ohio’s mascot is a bobcat. Ohio State’s is the buckeye.
We Ohio State fans amuse ourselves by scaring every Michigan fan we see strutting down the street with that obnoxious maize and blue “M” on his shirt.
We would swerve our vans as if to hit them, and then swerve back just missing them.
One day, while driving along, I saw a priest.
I thought I would do a good deed, so I pulled over and asked the priest, “Where are you going Father?”
“I’m going to give mass at St. Francis Church, about 2 miles down the road,” replied the priest.
“Climb in, Father! I’ll give you a lift!”
The priest climbed into the rear passenger seat, and we continued down the road.
Suddenly, I saw a Michigan fan walking down the road, with that “M” shirt on and I instinctively swerved as if to hit him.
But, as usual, I swerved back into the road just in time. Even though I was certain that I had missed the guy, I still heard a loud “THUD.” Not understanding where the noise came from, I glanced in my mirrors but still didn’t see anything. I then remembered the priest, and turned to the priest and said, “Sorry Father, I almost hit that Michigan fan.”
“That’s OK,” replied the priest, “I got him with the door.”
You’re telling us you’re in Dublin Ireland and can’t find a sesiun
so second best is watching tv?
42-39…well, your boys deserve to play for the national championship…Good work and congratulations to your team and its fans.
But we’re gonna beat you like dogs next year, count on it!
Hail to the Victors and Go Blue!
I don’t like football.
WOOHOO - YEAH BUCKS!!!
Well, then f*** off. No one asked you. What are you, a Maoist?
I like football somewhat, but the only teams I like enough to watch are the Bears and Notre Dame.
I’m not Maoist. To prove it, here’s a poem that involves football.
Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio
In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.
All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like starved pullets,
Dying for love.
Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other’s bodies.
James Wright