Doc: Is Cincinnati part of Buckeye Nation?

We here in the Republic of Cincinnati, sequestered as we are in the far southwest corner of what the rest of the state knows as "Ohio," do not open our arms wide for Ohio State's football program. Indifferent wouldn't be a harsh description.

OSU – also known more accurately and possibly arrogantly as The Ohio State University -- plays Oregon Monday, for the first-ever definitive championship of the quasi-amateur football cosmos. The rest of "Ohio," with the possible exception of Athens, is in mad love with the Buckeyes. From Ashtabula to Youngstown, see the flags hung from the porches and the newborns dressed in swaddling scarlet and gray.

We in the Republic tend to shrug. If we had a first date with Ohio State football, we wouldn't have a second. It'd end with a handshake. We're not much like the rest of the state. And frankly, we don't give a damn.

This is a slight exaggeration, of course. More than 8,000 Ohio State graduates belong to the local alumni club. Bucknuts are obvious in local sports bars on Saturdays in the fall. They used to be vocal about the lack of local media coverage. Now, they find what they need online.

But overall, we're as indifferent as the rest of "Ohio" is raucous. A segment of UC fans in particular is scouring the aisles at Dick's as we speak, seeking Oregon gear. Play us in basketball, Luckeyes.

We're a Republic of immigrants, a melting pot of Bearcats and Musketeers, Wildcats and RedHawks and Hoosiers. We have our own problems, er, teams.

If geography is destiny, our fate is tied more closely to Louisville than Cleveland. Cleveland loves the Buckeyes. I have a hard time calling Cincinnati Midwestern; it's closer to Southern, in manners and terrain. Cleveland is Eastern. Columbus – flat and Big 10, with corn fields barely 10 miles outside its borders – is Midwestern. State fairs and Woody Hayes and all that.

We are different down here. The Republic doesn't embrace the future, because its citizens generally like things the way they are. If you don't, you're welcome to leave. Our insular nature is clear: If you're one of us, you can't be one of them. I was here 20 years before I felt like a local.

We're clannish, even within our own borders. East Side, West Side. Some Kentuckians don't like crossing the river. Some Ohioans wouldn't be caught dead living in Kentucky. Kentucky gets the views; Ohio pays the taxes. Meantime, some of us live in Indiana and still worship Bob Knight.

And you expect us to rally around Ohio State?

Ohio State is arrogant. That is a perception. THE Ohio State University big-times UC. Remember what former president Gordon Gee said in May 2013?

"Even though we love Cincinnati as a city, we want it to be an Ohio State city. They'd have to take Gene (athletic director Gene Smith) out and shoot him to let Cincinnati into the Big Ten.''

In that same speech, Gee offered this:

"You just can't trust those damn Catholics on a Thursday or Friday.''

A highly Catholic Republic such as ours might tell Gee to go cross himself. Politely, of course.

And even though the "The'' was included by the state legislature in 1878, when the school changed its name from Ohio Agricultural and Mechanical College, it imparts a swagger that can be off-putting, such as during player introductions on Monday Night Football. As reader Maria Keri noted, "Taxpayers support all the state universities. It is not OUR state university.''

There are too many local grievances, real and imagined, against The OSU to list here. Suffice to say, the Republic won't be gathering on Fountain Square Tuesday, should the Buckeyes win.

In reaction, local Buckeyes fans tend to roll their eyes and get on with it. Big brother takes the shoulder punch from little brother and brushes it off like dandruff. "It's disappointing,'' says Bill Broxterman, OSU '92 and also a Moeller grad, who edits the alumni club's newsletter. "But I've lived in this town long enough, I've gotten used to it.''

A friend of mine once threatened to cancel his Enquirer subscription when he saw Ohio State football on Page 1 of the Sunday sports page, and UC on Page 4. He won't be going to O'Bryon's Pub in O'Bryonville Monday night, to sing Carmen Ohio with the rest of the scarlet and grays.

You'd like to think our Republic would ease its ways for a night. I mean, who cares about a team of Ducks? The Republic won't, though. The Republic is what it is. We don't close our borders to Buckeyes. We just make it hard for them to become citizens.