Before Ohio State-Michigan Dominated, the Big Ten Had a Different Big Two Until Realignment and Rivalry Shifts Changed Everything Forever
Long before “The Game” between Ohio State and Michigan became the defining rivalry of the Big Ten Conference—and arguably all of college football—the league was shaped by a very different power dynamic. While Buckeyes and Wolverines now command the national spotlight every November, there was a time when neither dominated the conference alone. Instead, the early decades of the Big Ten told a different story: one centered around a different “Big Two,” whose influence and legacy have been quietly overshadowed by today’s era of mega-rivalries and modern realignment. But it wasn’t just time that changed things. The evolution of the Big Ten’s internal rivalries was also shaped by program choices, shifting landscapes, and, some would argue, outright betrayal.
To truly appreciate how much the balance of power has shifted in the Big Ten, one must look back to the early-to-mid 20th century. During this time, it was not Ohio State and Michigan who routinely dominated the conference—it was Michigan and Minnesota. Yes, the Golden Gophers were once the standard of success in the Big Ten. Under legendary coach Bernie Bierman, Minnesota built a football dynasty, winning five national titles in the 1930s and early 1940s. Bierman’s teams were known for their punishing single-wing offense and suffocating defense, earning them admiration and envy across the Midwest.
Michigan, meanwhile, had its own dynastic periods, but it shared the Big Ten’s spotlight with the Gophers. Their matchups were must-see contests, filled with regional pride and national implications. The rivalry was further cemented with the creation of the Little Brown Jug, one of college football’s oldest rivalry trophies. For decades, Michigan vs. Minnesota was one of the most important games on the Big Ten calendar—often deciding the conference championship.
Ohio State, for all its modern dominance, didn’t truly emerge as a consistent powerhouse until the arrival of Paul Brown in the 1940s and later Woody Hayes in the 1950s. While the Buckeyes had occasional spurts of success earlier, they were not always considered a pillar of the conference’s elite. It was only after World War II that Ohio State began to ascend the ranks with regularity, shifting the axis of power in the Big Ten.
Meanwhile, another early Big Ten titan—Illinois—also deserves mention. With coaches like Bob Zuppke, Illinois captured multiple national championships and produced gridiron legends like Red Grange. The Fighting Illini were formidable opponents during the conference’s formative years, battling it out with Michigan and Minnesota for supremacy. But over time, Illinois faded into the middle of the pack, eclipsed by the rise of schools with larger recruiting bases, more robust facilities, and later, TV visibility.
By the 1960s and 70s, the Big Ten was firmly in the grip of what would become its most iconic rivalry: Michigan vs. Ohio State. Fueled by the infamous “Ten-Year War” between Woody Hayes and Bo Schembechler, the game became more than just a conference battle—it was a national spectacle. Nearly every year during that stretch, the winner of the Ohio State-Michigan game went on to the Rose Bowl and had a shot at the national championship.
This was the moment the Big Two truly emerged—but it came at a cost to the rest of the league. Programs like Minnesota, Illinois, Iowa, and even Wisconsin fell into long droughts. What had once been a competitive and balanced league became top-heavy. The intense focus on the Ohio State-Michigan rivalry essentially pushed other traditional rivalries—like Michigan-Minnesota, Minnesota-Iowa, and others—to the periphery.
But it wasn’t just on-field performance that reshaped the Big Ten’s internal structure. In recent decades, the forces of realignment, expansion, and TV revenue transformed the conference further. Penn State’s entry in 1993 marked the beginning of the Big Ten’s expansionist mindset, eventually bringing in Nebraska, Maryland, and Rutgers. These moves were driven not by traditional rivalries or geography, but by the financial promises of larger television markets and broader brand exposure.
Then came the real upheaval. In 2024, the Big Ten welcomed USC, UCLA, Oregon, and Washington from the crumbling Pac-12—a move that shocked the college football world. This expansion, while strategic in terms of media value, fundamentally altered the DNA of the conference. The inclusion of West Coast teams not only expanded the Big Ten from a regional league into a national one, but also disrupted the historical rhythm of its rivalries.
In particular, traditional matchups that had long anchored the Big Ten schedule became diluted or sidelined entirely. Annual rivalries were sacrificed to accommodate divisional balance and television contracts. Michigan and Minnesota no longer played each other regularly. The once-celebrated Little Brown Jug was relegated to an occasional cross-divisional contest, stripped of the yearly tradition that made it great. Many longtime fans felt betrayed, as the soul of the conference seemed to be bartered away for broader exposure and bigger TV deals.
The shift was even more painful for programs that once held elite status but were now viewed as also-rans. Minnesota, for example, hasn’t won a Big Ten title since 1967. Illinois hasn’t been relevant on the national stage in decades. These programs, once central to the Big Ten’s identity, are now often footnotes in a league increasingly dominated by Ohio State and Michigan—and to a growing extent, Penn State.
Even the Big Ten Championship Game, introduced in 2011, became emblematic of the rivalry imbalance. Michigan and Ohio State were initially placed in separate divisions to preserve the chance of a “Game” rematch in Indianapolis. Yet even with realignment in 2024 to remove divisions altogether, the conference’s scheduling still favors marquee matchups, often at the expense of historical equity. For many programs, the path to relevance is now far more difficult.
And then there’s the cultural shift. Rivalries, once built on proximity, familiarity, and shared history, are now being manufactured based on TV metrics and branding potential. Can USC and Rutgers ever truly have a meaningful rivalry? Can Oregon vs. Maryland become anything more than a geographically absurd scheduling oddity? These are the new realities in a Big Ten that no longer resembles the tight-knit Midwestern league of its early years.
Of course, Ohio State and Michigan deserve credit for maintaining elite programs through decades of change. Their recruiting, coaching, and financial commitment have set the standard in the conference. But their rise came at a cost—not just to Minnesota or Illinois or other early titans, but to the very identity of the Big Ten as a broad and balanced league.
What once was a conference defined by a shared sense of regional pride and tradition is now a sprawling coalition of markets, networks, and playoff ambitions. And while that evolution has brought massive financial windfalls and increased national relevance, it has also hollowed out some of the soul of the Big Ten.
For fans of college football history, the shift is bittersweet. They remember when Michigan-Minnesota mattered just as much as Ohio State-Michigan does today. They remember when rivalries weren’t made in boardrooms or shaped by TV executives. They remember the real “Big Two”—and they wonder what might have been had loyalty, tradition, and balance held firmer against the forces of change.
As the 2025 season approaches, the Big Ten is more powerful and far-reaching than ever before. With 18 teams, coast-to-coast reach, and billions in revenue, it stands as a titan of modern college athletics. But within that expansion lies a quiet loss—the fading echo of a time when different programs carried the banner of greatness. Before the Game ruled all, before the new era of realignment, the Big Ten belonged to more than just two schools. It was, for a time, a truly shared legacy.
