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Columbus sports scene has turned professional since Bicentennial year The extent to which Columbus sports fans knew soccer existed in 1976 can be summarized in two syllables: Pele.
That was it.
Even then, the only thing known about the Brazilian superstar was he liked leaping into the arms of teammates, and we only knew that because of a five-second video clip during the opening montage of ABCs Wide World of Sports.
Otherwise, soccer was a game played over there, meaning everywhere but the United States.
Plus, Columbus was too busy celebrating the nations 200th birthday to care about glorified kickball.
I mean, where were the wooden bats? The oversized shoulder pads? The Dr.
J Converse high-tops? Likewise, for most Cap City residents, hockey was a niche sport with only a handful of recognizable athletes.
Bobby Orr, Phil Esposito, Bobby Hull.
A tiny fraction of fans showed up for IHL games at the Ohio Expo Center Coliseum, home of the Owls, but mostly hockey belonged to our Canadian neighbors, back when Montreal owned the Stanley Cup.
The nearest city to catch a game was Cleveland, to watch the Barons.
Crew, Blue Jackets turned Columbus into major-league city Much has changed in the Columbus sports scene over the past 50 years, beginning with soccer and hockey entering the Arch City zeitgeist with the Crew (1996) and Blue Jackets (2000).
The arrival of MLS and the NHL helped reframe the citys sports narrative, from trash sport mecca into the mainstream.
Even if TV networks felt obligated to follow Columbus with Ohio, it still was cool to see our citys teams scroll across scoreboard tickers.
The Crew arrived in 1996, taking up residence in the first soccer specific MLS stadium (now called Historic Crew Stadium) before moving to a sleek steel and glass Taj Mahal located Downtown.
Columbus nearly lost the Black and Gold to Austin, but Save the Crew showed the world that protest and pushback are not exclusive to political causes.
The Blue Jackets, meanwhile, made Nationwide Arena their home, beginning in the 2000-2001 season.
The CBJ continue to stumble one step forward, two steps back, but only the dumb and dumber would deny that at least the Jackets have a chance.
In 1976, no such opportunity existed.
Lets not forget the Clippers, who arrived in 1976 to end a six-year drought of minor-league baseball in Columbus.
Granted, Triple-A baseball was not the big leagues, but for decades the Clippers were the only professional team in town that actually attracted decent crowds.
Playing home games at Franklin County Stadium, renamed Cooper Stadium in 1984, the Clippers became more ingrained in the citys sports fabric when they moved to their Downtown digs, Huntington Park, in 2009.
And soon we will welcome the best of womens professional soccer as the NWSL begins play in 2028.
In 1976, womens sports in Columbus amounted to watching 14-year-old Romanian gymnast Nadia Comaneci score perfect 10s on the way to winning three Olympic gold medals.
But enough about Columbus secondary sports.
I say that only half kidding, because the citys No.
1 follow remains the football Buckeyes.
It would be wrong to suggest Ohio State football is more important than it was in 1976.
It feels bigger, due to the reach and reaction of social media, but losses were just as painful to Buckeye Nation, before it was called that, and as damaging to national championship hopes as they are today.
Ohio State football fans still expect Buckeyes to win every game The expectation then, as now, was for Ohio State to win every game, which is why the bicentennial year marked the beginning of the end for Woody Hayes.
The legendary OSU coach was still two seasons shy of punching Clemson nose guard Charlie Bauman during the 1978 Gator Bowl, a roundhouse that cost Hayes his job.
But cracks already were forming in the foundation of fan support.
The Buckeyes finished 9-2-1 in 1976, one year after going 11-1 and playing for the national title, and Hayes suffered the first of three consecutive losses to Michigan.
More than one critic fumed that Woody must go.
Sound familiar? History has a habit of repeating itself, much to the chagrin of Ohio State coach Ryan Day, who matched Hayes three straight losses to UM and then did the Old Man one worse by losing four in a row to the Wolverines from 2021-2024.
Many fans wanted Day sent packing after the 2024 debacle, but the Buckeyes rebounded to win the national championship and complete a task that 50 years earlier was more goal than requirement.
To understand how expectations have changed in the Horseshoe over the past five decades, start with the current notion that the season is a bust if the Buckeyes dont beat Michigan and play for the national championship.
Such was not the case in 1976, when the poll voting system meant teams did not always control their destiny, especially if they entered their bowl game with a loss or two.
Todays 12-team playoff offers a more direct path to championship certainty.
Clearly, with a poll system it was whoever looked the best at the end of the season got the [No.1] nod, said Bruce Ruhl, a defensive back on OSUs 1976 team.
We knew we were probably better than teams we lost to, but thats the way the game goes sometimes.
Thats not the way it goes in 2026, at least not on social media.
Armchair quarterbacking in 1976 was a private act that happened at home with Dad yelling at the TV.
Today, criticism comes from everywhere, and everyone, with the click of a mouse or press of a button.
Everybody was serious about winning back then, Ruhl said.
But we werent on TV as much and there werent the [hot take] talk shows.
And everybody has a phone now.
One of the biggest differences is in communication.
Its instant.
No question.
And instant opinions lead to increased fan ferocity.
As has been the case for decades, athletes get about 10 minutes after games to cool off before speaking with the media.
Fan frustration, meanwhile, happens immediately, and in real time, resulting in loss of perspective and knee-jerk reactions that go viral.
Fuming fans aside, college sports have become almost unrecognizable compared to 1976.
Outside the lines, anyway.
The games themselves are mostly what they always were, albeit with stronger, bigger and faster athletes.
What has changed, almost beyond belief, is the professionalization of it all.
It would have been unimaginable 50 years ago for college basketball players to legally make $2 million at their school, as OSUs Bruce Thornton reportedly did last season.
Or for athletes to transfer willy-nilly without the penalty of sitting out a season.
But the amateur label no longer applies as it once did.
In that way, Ohio State athletics have become as professionally-oriented as the soccer and hockey teams that helped turn Columbus from sports cow town into the big leagues.
What will the next 50 years bring? More MLS championships for the Crew? A Stanley Cup trophy for the Blue Jackets? (Hey, there is no law preventing it).
A WNBA franchise? One thing for certain: Ohio State fans still will be complaining about the Schottenstein Center mausoleum and dismissing the merits of Michigan football.
When it comes to the Buckeyes, the more things change the more they stay the same.
Sports columnist Rob Oller can be reached at [email protected] and on X.com at @rollerCD.