Glory days.

Still alone. Still bored. Still watching Kourtney and Kim.

But I figured since I’m alone, I might as well try and do something productive. I realized in one of my earlier posts, I stopped talking about my past before I got to the best part. My glory days. College.

After rising to prominence as one of the top high school football players in Ohio, I had college recruiters swarming me, looking for my signature. Of course, there was only ever one school that I was going to commit to. Ohio State. And luckily, they were interested (of course they were), and granted me a four-year scholarship. Growing up, going to an Ohio State football game was one of the few luxuries my father afforded me. The Horseshoe was about the closest thing to a church I ever stepped foot in. All of the greatest memories from my childhood took place in that stadium. Eddie George shedding tackles in ’95. Breaking the losing streak against Michigan in 1998. The undefeated season in 2002. Hell, the first time I ever got laid was at a Metallica concert that came through there in ’03.

(Me at said Metallica show, with said first lay)

Of course, not all of my memories are as a fan. I played for the Buckeyes from 2005-2008. Over the course of that time, we went undefeated against Michigan, won four-straight Big 10 Championships as well as attended four-straight bowl games… Those fucking bowl games. Getting embarrassed by Florida in ’07 was one thing, but we had those pricks from LSU. 2008 should have been our year! And it would have been if that piece of shit didn’t eject me midway through the 2^nd quarter. That shit still haunts my dreams today.

Whatever. So I graduated from OSU and immediately went into the 2009 Draft. There, I was a first round choice (obviously), selected by Kansas City. You hear a lot of professional athletes talking about playing sports as “their dream”. Egomaniacs. My biggest dreams as a child was my old man dying, me getting his life insurance policy, and moving Cincinnati to open a car dealership. Cars have always been my real passion.

(One of my babies)

So there you have it. You’re now effectively caught up on the life of Blake Sawyer. And look, that killed… FUCK. Only 20 minutes? God damnit.