Have you seen those commercials on TV for Nationwide Insurance where a woman is being rowed through the street of Venice with her dreamy Fabio-looking gondolier, and the second she opens her eyes and sees the reality of her situation, she looks up and her hot Fabio is really an aging decrepit Guido? The punch line of the commercial says 'Life comes at you fast.'

The Ohio State Buckeyes finally opened their eyes last night, and what can only be said is that life caught up with them last night and smacked them in the ass.

The irony of the parody is that Nationwide sponsored the Buckeyes all year with billboards around Columbus with that famous slogan, Life Comes At You Fast, as the undefeated Buckeyes pounced on their competition. Each week the Insurance Company would cross off another team on the Buckeye billboard, leading up to the national championship.

Florida ended that hazy dream, playing spoiler, with nothing to lose. They continued the trend set in the previous week by Boise State: the sexy new trend of the underdog.

Underdog has been around much longer than his 1964 debut on the NBC network, but he is proving to be the hottest thing in sports thus far and why wouldn't he? As an underdog, you can step out on to the field, fearless in your task at hand because no one holds any expectation for you except to attempting to survive. It's the best-case scenario for a team because if you lose everyone predicted it and if you win everyone is shocked and awed.

The BCS National Championship Game seems to be a breeding ground for underdogs. In the last five years, three underdogs have come out against over-sized opponents and silenced critics and doubting fans with thrilling victories.

This year alone, the BCS games seemed to indicate that teams who entered the game feeling entitled to win wound up walking home with "kick me" signs on their backs.

From my point of view, ever since Michigan learned they wouldn't get another shot at the title match, the Rose Bowl was a mere consolation prize. (I'm sure Ohio State would have welcomed facing Michigan if they could have foreseen their fate with Florida.) I'm sure the Wolverines are wishing they hadn't taken Pasadena so lightly after their walloping by the hands of USC.

Notre Dame, America's darling, should have bypassed the Bayou and opted for something a little lighter than the jumbo-sized LSU Tigers. I won't lie, as I sat in the bar last week and watched the Sugar Bowl, I was secretly thrilled that LSU dismantled the Irish, who always feel it's their destiny to win. Frankly, it looked more like a JV football team taking on a lower tier NFL team.

Then there's Boise State, the little team that could. Going in, we all thought they didn't stand a chance, that their season of smoke and mirrors was about to be exposed by the traditional powerhouse of Oklahoma. Sure, they were ahead all game, but we didn't expect them to win. Of course, their execution of the Fiesta Bowl is an instant classic and is the single greatest athletic feat in the history of Idaho.

As I woke up on Monday morning, all I thought was "I hope today's game doesn't end up like the ones from the previous week." While I'm not a fan of the Irish or the Maize and Blue, it's never fun watching your team get dismantled.

Now I know the feeling. The feeling of sitting in your chair and watching as your heart is severed from your chest, all vital organs crumple at the loss and the overwhelming sense of dread that there is no hope invades your mind.

That was me last night about half way through the second quarter of the BCS Championship game. There was nothing I could do to help my floundering team. Maybe I should take credit for the loss. I didn't watch the game at my usual spot; I ended up at a different bar so I could accommodate my large group of friends to help celebrate my "sure-fire win." I didn't wear my usual apparel; I wore my championship jersey, purchased just for the occasion. Finally, I left my secret weapon at home: my lucky Buckeye.

All fans are superstitious and I'm sure scads of Buckeye faithful are waking up today, nursing a raging hangover (because what else are you going to do when your Heisman winning quarterback looks like a third-string relief player in the big game?). Across the country, fans of all the losing teams are thinking 'how can this be?'

The answer is simple: you weren't wearing the uniform of the underdog and you got bit.