Eric Boggs
As an Ohio State fan, when I think about Jim Tressel, I don’t just think about wins and losses — I think about leadership, belief, and one defining night that forever shaped my love for Buckeye football. Jim Tressel is my favorite Ohio State head coach of my lifetime, and the 2003 Fiesta Bowl national championship is the moment I choose to remember him by. Calm, composed, and utterly unshakable in his sweater vest, Tressel built a team that reflected his own character, and on that January night in Tempe, he authored one of the greatest stories in college football history.
Twenty plus years later, the emotional high of that victory still resonates with every Ohio State fan. The Buckeyes were massive underdogs facing a Miami program riding a 34-game winning streak, loaded with future NFL stars, and widely considered untouchable. Yet from the Scarlet and Gray perspective, that night was never about hype or reputation. It was about toughness, belief, and a team that had been forged in the image of its head coach — disciplined, fearless, and prepared for every moment.
The buildup to kickoff was filled with anxiety and hope. National voices dismissed Ohio State, some even predicting a blowout. But Buckeye fans carried a quiet confidence rooted in what we had watched all season: a group of players that simply refused to break. For four quarters and two overtimes, the game became an emotional marathon, the kind that leaves your heart racing and your voice hoarse, where every snap felt like it carried the weight of history.
Early adversity arrived when Sean Taylor intercepted Craig Krenzel, a moment that felt like the nightmare scenario. Then, in an instant that still defines the soul of that team, Maurice Clarett chased down the returner, stripped the ball, and gave Ohio State life. That single play embodied everything Tressel had built — accountability, effort, and belief when everything seemed lost.
As the game stretched deeper into the night, the Buckeyes kept answering every challenge. None was bigger than Krenzel’s fourth-and-14 completion to Michael Jenkins in overtime, a 17-yard strike that saved the season. Much like the “Holy Buckeye” earlier that year, it was a moment where time seemed to slow, where Buckeye Nation collectively held its breath and then exploded in disbelief. Without that throw, none of what followed would exist.
Then came the moment that would echo through college football history. On a critical fourth down in the first overtime, the pass toward Chris Gamble drew a late flag for pass interference. Miami’s sideline had already begun celebrating, but the officials ruled Glenn Sharpe’s contact illegal. Nationally, the debate ignited instantly. Some analysts blasted the timing of the call; others defended it, later supported by conference review confirming multiple infractions. From our seats as Buckeye fans, it was simple: the rule was applied correctly, and Ohio State was given the chance it had earned.
With the ball at the two-yard line, Maurice Clarett powered into the end zone and sent the game to a second overtime. The emotional tide had completely turned. When Miami’s final drive ended with Ken Dorsey’s desperation throw falling incomplete, the explosion of joy that followed felt almost unreal. Fans flooded Ohio Stadium back in Columbus in freezing temperatures, strangers hugged, grown adults cried, and an entire fan base exhaled together.
The controversy never faded, and perhaps it never will. Yet that only adds to the legend. The game is still celebrated nationally as the “Game of the Decade,” a classic that altered the trajectory of two powerhouse programs. For Ohio State, it launched an era of sustained national relevance. For Miami, it marked the beginning of a long championship drought. History has a way of confirming what we felt that night: this was no fluke — it was a program announcing itself under a coach who believed before anyone else did.
Two decades later, the 2003 Fiesta Bowl remains one of the purest expressions of what Ohio State football represents. Grit, resilience, unity, and unwavering belief — the very qualities Jim Tressel lived by and instilled in his players. When I remember Tressel, I remember that night, that team, and that moment when Ohio State stood atop the college football world. And I always will. Go Bucks.
