Michigan football has entered a season that feels unfamiliar to many who have followed the program closely over the past decade. For a team with as rich a history and as strong a cultural presence as the Wolverines, the narrative surrounding them this fall has not been one of dominance, swagger, or playoff expectations. Instead, Michigan finds itself in a position where critics are louder than ever, the team appears vulnerable, and rivals are quick to celebrate every misstep. Yet for all the talk that Michigan may be down, and for all the gloating that inevitably comes from fans in Columbus and elsewhere, history and football psychology remind us that mocking a wounded rival can sometimes be the worst mistake. Ohio State, no matter how tempting it may be, would be wise not to take Michigan’s current struggles as a final statement of where the Wolverines are headed. Because if there is anything more dangerous than a rival on a winning streak, it is a rival playing with nothing to lose, backed by rage and the desperation to prove doubters wrong.
The rivalry between Michigan and Ohio State has never been about simple wins and losses. It has been about identity, pride, and proving supremacy in one of the fiercest battles in college football. For Michigan, the years of struggling under coaches who failed to break through against Ohio State were crushing, and yet even in their darkest times the Wolverines never completely surrendered. They might have lost games, but the passion in Ann Arbor never went out. Fast-forward to the recent era, where Michigan finally found its stride again, snapping streaks and proving it could stand toe-to-toe with the Buckeyes. Those victories shifted the entire rivalry’s tone. The Wolverines were no longer the program that Ohio State simply penciled in as a late-season victory; they were back to being a legitimate threat on the national stage. That’s what makes the current downturn sting so badly for Michigan fans. After climbing so high, seeing the program stagger again feels like an emotional freefall.
But perspective is crucial here. Programs the size of Michigan rarely stay down for long. They may struggle, they may face off-field controversies, or endure roster turnover and staff shake-ups, but the foundation is too strong, the recruiting base too deep, and the resources too vast to vanish from the national conversation. Ohio State knows this. The Buckeyes, as dominant as they have been over Michigan in stretches, also know the sting of underestimation. They’ve been in positions where national media doubted them, where critics questioned their toughness or discipline, and they responded with performances that silenced everyone. To assume Michigan won’t do the same is to misunderstand the nature of rivalry football.
For Ohio State players and fans, it’s easy to feel that the current state of Michigan is reason to celebrate. The Buckeyes have been impressive, the talent pipeline looks strong, and Ryan Day continues to reload rather than rebuild. Their offense remains explosive, their defense continues to harden, and they look like a team poised to contend again for Big Ten and playoff glory. It feels almost natural for Ohio State supporters to see Michigan floundering and think the rivalry has swung back into their permanent favor. Yet rivalries are not decided by trends on paper alone. They are defined by raw emotion, by who channels pressure and passion most effectively on that one Saturday in late November. And if Michigan enters that game with a chip on its shoulder, tired of ridicule, and desperate to salvage pride, the Buckeyes may find themselves in the fight of their lives, regardless of what the win-loss columns suggest.
Consider the psychology of athletes in rivalry settings. When a team is celebrated and expected to dominate, pressure can weigh heavily on them. Every mistake feels magnified. For Ohio State, being the favorite often comes with an added burden of perfection; Buckeye fans are notorious for having little patience for anything less than victory, particularly against Michigan. On the flip side, when a team like Michigan enters a matchup being counted out, the weight of expectation disappears. They can play looser, take risks, and unleash a level of physicality and aggression that may catch even the most prepared opponent off guard. That’s the danger Ohio State faces if it chooses to see Michigan as already defeated.
The narratives surrounding these two programs have always shifted dramatically from year to year, and sometimes even within a season. Michigan’s recent ability to dominate Ohio State on the ground, to out-muscle and out-discipline a program that prided itself on talent and finesse, was a testament to how quickly the rivalry can swing. The Wolverines were dismissed as too soft, too predictable, and unable to close the gap. Then, in back-to-back years, they flipped the script and showed that their style of football could dictate terms against the Buckeyes. Now, as Michigan faces its slump, there’s a temptation to believe that era has ended, that the Wolverines are once again fading. But the memory of those victories should serve as a cautionary tale to anyone in scarlet and gray who thinks mocking Michigan is a wise move.
Another layer to consider is the recruiting battle. When Michigan looks vulnerable, Ohio State gains an advantage in selling itself to top talent. But the inverse is also true: when Ohio State underestimates Michigan, it opens the door for the Wolverines to pitch themselves as fighters who thrive when doubted. High school athletes who see Michigan being ridiculed by rivals may actually buy into the narrative of being part of a turnaround. Rage and hunger can be powerful motivators in sports, and nothing motivates quite like being told you’re finished. For every recruit Ohio State thinks it secures by highlighting Michigan’s struggles, there’s another who sees opportunity in helping restore the Wolverines’ pride.
Even beyond recruiting, there’s the cultural weight of this rivalry. Michigan football carries with it the pride of generations, the history of The Big House, and the legacy of names that shaped college football. That pride does not vanish because of a bad season. If anything, it festers, it grows into a burning desire to restore honor. Every practice becomes more intense, every game becomes more critical, and every mention of Ohio State becomes more personal. By the time the rivalry game arrives, Michigan may be playing with a level of ferocity that only comes from being publicly doubted. Ohio State, riding confidence, may not be prepared for the sheer force of that energy.
There’s also the fact that no rivalry game is played in isolation. Every stumble, every injury, every sideline drama leading up to The Game adds fuel to the fire. Michigan may enter limping, but limping teams can be the most dangerous because they know they have nothing to lose. The Wolverines have been here before. They’ve heard the laughter, endured the memes, and listened to rivals write them off. And they’ve responded before with performances that shocked the nation. The rage that comes from being mocked does not just stay in the locker room; it translates into hits, into runs that break tackles, into defensive stands that leave opponents stunned.
Ohio State fans, understandably, will celebrate every Michigan setback. It’s what rivalries are built on—schadenfreude, the joy of seeing your rival in pain. But if the Buckeyes take that too far, if they start believing that Michigan is permanently finished, they risk walking into a storm. History tells us that this rivalry is cyclical. Michigan was down, then surged back to prominence. Ohio State dominated, then was humbled. The pendulum always swings, and rage is often the force that pushes it.
So, while Michigan may be down right now, and while Ohio State has every reason to feel confident in its own trajectory, the celebration should be cautious. A wounded Michigan is not a harmless Michigan. A mocked Michigan is not a powerless Michigan. Instead, it is a program gathering energy, storing every insult, and waiting for the moment to unleash it all on the field. When that moment comes, it will not matter what the rankings say, or who the favorite is, or what the statistics predict. What will matter is that one of the greatest rivalries in sports will once again remind everyone that pride and rage can level the playing field in an instant.
The lesson for Ohio State is clear: celebrate too loudly at Michigan’s expense, and you may find yourself staring into the eyes of a rival that has transformed humiliation into fuel. And on that late November afternoon, rage may prove more powerful than any celebration that came before it.
