BUCKEYE BUZZ: Urban Meyer Still Haunted by Tattoogate, Jeremiah Smith Flips $10K Jeans, and Kids Ruthlessly Boo Michigan Star Mason Graham at Browns Youth Camp

The echoes of college football’s most controversial moments continue to reverberate through Ohio State, even years after the fact. One such saga, forever etched into the scarlet and gray tapestry of Buckeye lore, is the infamous Tattoogate scandal that cost a powerhouse team its postseason dreams, a revered head coach his job, and the program its spotless image. While much has changed since then—new players, coaches, and championships—the lingering bitterness remains alive in the hearts of those most affected, particularly Urban Meyer, who continues to voice his frustration about the NCAA’s handling of the ordeal. In a recent reflection, Meyer reignited the firestorm by candidly stating that Ohio State “paid too harsh a price,” laying bare the wounds that still fester over a decade later.

Tattooed in the history books, the scandal involved several Buckeye players—most notably quarterback Terrelle Pryor—exchanging memorabilia for tattoos, which the NCAA deemed a violation of amateurism rules at the time. While the offenses seem almost laughably minor in today’s NIL-friendly world, they led to stiff penalties including vacated wins, a bowl ban, and the resignation of head coach Jim Tressel. For Urban Meyer, who took over a bruised program and restored it to national prominence, the shadow of Tattoogate still looms large. He expressed frustration not just for the impact it had on Ohio State, but for what he perceives as an inconsistent and punitive system that punished players for actions that would now be perfectly legal under modern NCAA guidelines. For Meyer, the moral dissonance of the NCAA’s decision has yet to find closure. His disappointment isn’t just retrospective; it represents a critique of institutional injustice, a deep frustration with a system that failed the players and the university alike.

While Meyer continues to grapple with the ghosts of the past, the new generation of Buckeye talent is carving a new legacy—sometimes in surprising, even humorous, ways. Enter Jeremiah Smith, Ohio State’s prized wide receiver recruit, who made headlines not just for his athletic prowess but for a fashion-forward hustle. In an eyebrow-raising move that’s quickly gone viral, Smith resold a pair of jeans worth a staggering $10,000. The jeans, reportedly from a luxury streetwear brand with a cult following, were gifted to him through an NIL collective partnership. Rather than wear the high-priced denim, Smith decided to flip them for a profit, showcasing a sharp business acumen and an understanding of his value in today’s NIL landscape.

The moment was equal parts amusing and indicative of a shifting paradigm in college athletics. Today’s athletes are not just gridiron gladiators but also savvy entrepreneurs. Smith’s maneuver was not just a resale; it was a declaration that players now understand their market worth—and they’re not afraid to capitalize. While older generations may raise eyebrows at a 19-year-old turning fashion into financial opportunity, younger fans praised the move as smart and strategic. To them, this is the new norm. Players like Smith are now brands, and every asset—from cleats to jeans—can be monetized. It’s a far cry from the Tattoogate era, and perhaps even more frustrating to figures like Urban Meyer who recall the harsh consequences once levied on players for far less.

But not all recent Buckeye-related stories have been celebratory. In a hilarious and unexpectedly savage turn of events, Michigan defensive lineman Mason Graham got a cold and vocal reception at a youth football camp hosted by the Cleveland Browns. The moment, caught on video and quickly circulated on social media, featured a chorus of young campers booing Graham the instant he was introduced. To anyone outside the intense Ohio State-Michigan rivalry, it might have seemed over-the-top or even inappropriate. But within the Midwestern football battleground, it was just another display of the passion, pettiness, and loyalty that defines the greatest rivalry in sports.

Graham, to his credit, took the jeers in stride, laughing it off and even engaging with the kids afterward. But the moment underscored just how deeply rooted the rivalry runs—even into the hearts of elementary and middle schoolers. These weren’t just any kids; they were young Buckeye loyalists raised in homes where “Beat Michigan” isn’t a phrase—it’s a commandment. For many of them, Graham’s maize and blue jersey might as well have been a red cape waved in front of a bull. In that sense, the boos weren’t personal. They were cultural, a rite of passage in a region where the line between college football and religion is almost indistinguishable.

This dynamic illustrates a greater truth about the Buckeye Nation. Whether it’s Meyer revisiting old battles with the NCAA, Smith navigating the complexities of NIL with a streetwear flair, or youth campers booing a rival player with gusto, the Ohio State community is as vibrant, vocal, and unyielding as ever. Its history is layered with both triumph and turmoil. And its future is being shaped by a generation that embraces both the power of tradition and the freedom of modernity.

Urban Meyer’s ongoing lamentation over Tattoogate isn’t just about the past. It’s a warning about the cost of inconsistent governance and the human toll of bureaucratic overreach. It’s also a reminder of how far the sport has come—and how far it still needs to go in achieving true fairness and perspective. For Meyer, the pain lies not just in what happened but in what could have been. Had the NCAA shown a modicum of foresight or empathy, perhaps the Buckeyes wouldn’t have been punished so harshly for what would now be seen as trivial infractions. It’s a case study in how quickly the goalposts can move, and how yesterday’s crimes can become today’s business models.

Meanwhile, Jeremiah Smith represents a new archetype: the athlete-entrepreneur. His denim deal may seem frivolous on the surface, but it symbolizes a tectonic shift in college athletics. No longer beholden to outdated concepts of amateurism, today’s players are empowered, self-aware, and financially literate. They’re making moves both on and off the field, leveraging their influence in ways that would have been unimaginable a decade ago. Smith’s savvy shows that NIL is more than just endorsement deals; it’s about control, independence, and a redefinition of value.

And then there’s Mason Graham—caught in the crossfire of youthful tribalism that serves as both a bonding agent and battleground for future generations of fans. His booing wasn’t mean-spirited so much as ceremonial. It’s the sound of legacy, a youthful affirmation that the rivalry is alive and well. Even in the offseason, even at a camp meant for fun and development, the Michigan-Ohio State divide refuses to sleep. For Buckeye fans, especially the young ones, every opportunity is a chance to remind their rivals who runs Ohio.

Together, these stories form a compelling snapshot of Ohio State’s cultural ecosystem—a world where past grievances still sting, where young stars command fashion empires, and where even children wield boos like battle cries. It’s a vivid blend of reflection, evolution, and enduring identity. The Buckeye brand is one of resilience, adaptation, and pride. It’s steeped in history, yet constantly evolving with the times. From Meyer’s sense of injustice to Smith’s modern maneuvering to the kids’ raw, unfiltered passion, Ohio State’s present is as dynamic as its storied past.

College football has always been more than just a game in Columbus. It’s a narrative, a lifestyle, a community with deep roots and wide-reaching branches. It’s where tradition and innovation coexist, sometimes clashing, sometimes collaborating, but always moving forward. As the sport continues to transform, as the rules change and the players gain more agency, Ohio State remains both a witness and a leader in that evolution. The Buckeyes are not just reacting to the times—they are defining them.