Inside the Pulse of the Defending National Champion Ohio State Buckeyes

COLUMBUS, Ohio — I am standing in front of a church, only it is no longer a church. It's now a makeshift Ohio State merchandise store with "Clinton Predestinarian Baptist Church" still etched in stone above its arched doorway.

Right now, 15 hours before Ohio State plays a scrimmage in front of nearly 100,000 people, four middle-aged gentlemen are sitting in front of a makeshift store, drinking makeshift drinks while sitting in makeshift chairs. National championship T-shirts, flags and swag hang proudly behind and above the magnificent architecture—the red brick matching the bright scarlet paraphernalia up for sale. The stadium is a little less than a mile away.

It is an unusual place to sell jerseys and other pieces of memorabilia, although in many ways it's football poetry. It's also an extension of the program it proudly backs: unexpected, magnificent and calm before a tremendous, inevitable storm eventually breaks up the celebration.

For at least one weekend, however, none of that mattered. Not the quarterback quandary. Not the inevitable No. 1 ranking. Not the hopeful rebirth of a rival. Not even the future, which is remarkably bright. This was a time for everyone—from the fans to the man overseeing it all—to catch his or her breath.

It's why 99,391 people willingly gave up their Saturday afternoon and watched a spring football game.

That warrants repeating. Nearly 100,000 people made the pilgrimage to Columbus to watch its football team, even without many of its superstars in action. The warm sun and high 70s didn't hurt this effort, although giving credit to local meteorologists and Mother Nature would be an injustice to their dedication.

Scalpers circled the stadium like sharks as an ancillary ticket market took shape—for a spring game. Ticket lines wrapped around buildings. Parking lots overflowed, and the traffic pattern looked more like that of a Michigan game than spring. Some said it was even worse.

Image via Bleacher Report

Tailgates were fully functional, and the intoxicating smell of grilled meats clouded the sky. A sea of bodies dressed in red consumed all lines of sight, while hot-air balloons hovered overhead.

This was no spring game; this was a statewide holiday. Actual football was, in fact, secondary.

"Ninety-nine thousand people," head coach Urban Meyer said following the game. "I think I heard that over the P.A. system. Not surprised but extremely grateful to come watch a scrimmage, at times not a very pleasant scrimmage."

As I made my way toward the stadium, I spoke with fans about the upcoming season ahead. Some were still puffy-chested, while others were still levitating. Confidence and optimism oozed out of each and every corner of the stadium.

When the topic turned to the quarterback battle, the conversation switched gears. It didn't turn negative—not in the least bit—but it was the only thing the 100,000 people in attendance didn't see eye-to-eye on, at least not yet. Even local media members chimed in, struggling to reach a consensus.

You have to play Cardale.

J.T. Barrett is the best quarterback on the roster.

Play them both.

Don't count out Braxton Miller.

Play all three.

For those keeping score at home, Cardale Jones came away with a slight edge in this informal public poll. But even with a flood of unique answers and differing stances, one constant remained: what a magnificent problem Ohio State has on its hands, at least right now.

The inquiries and observations trickled into the stadium as Ohio State's lacrosse team was wrapping up its undercard performance against Maryland. At first, it looked like the Buckeyes were in line for an impressive showing—maybe 80,000 people.

As the scoreboard countdown began and lacrosse gave way for football, however, the emptiness of a stadium that sits 100,000 easily began to dwindle away. Red consumed all.

Image via Bleacher Report

"The crowd today was unbelievable," senior defensive lineman Tommy Schutt said. "Ninety-nine thousand was just 'wow!' Having that many people at a spring game is really special."

The game that followed wasn't exactly revolutionary in nature, although expectations were reserved. Only one of the three primary quarterbacks suited up. Ezekiel Elliott, perhaps the Heisman favorite, spent much of the day on the sideline with a selfie stick and a GoPro rather than logging carries.

The rosters weren't without star power, although this was a watered-down, lite version of the product that will take the field in Blacksburg, Virginia, on September 7.

That was not unexpected. The head coach—who has openly expressed his moderate displeasure with these games—essentially stated as such beforehand. Still, this was a day that was not absent of excellence.

Cardale Jones flashed moments, uncorking more than 40 passes. He threw downfield often—cutting through the air with ease. Each time he did, an active crowd seemingly grew silent.

While more than half of his throws hit the turf, Jones provided a reminder of just how powerful and rare his right arm is, and more importantly, why he will be tough to beat out. He put an exclamation mark on this thought by unleashing a 74-yard throw to win a quarterback skills event over J.T. Barrett at halftime—along with former Buckeyes great Troy Smith.

"My arm was kind of tired," Jones said. "I probably throw it a little further."

Although Braxton Miller was idle during the throw-off as he works his way back from a shoulder injury, he did participate. During the game, he was standing 10 yards behind the offense, often times shoulder-to-shoulder with Meyer or Barrett. At the half, he also provided a reminder that he still has incredible athletic gifts.

Miller joined Elliott during the intermission in the annual race against the fastest students. Both prepared by removing their shirts and tossing them aside—a sign of business—which drew a massive applause. When the sprint had ended, Elliott barely edged the quarterback, who made up ground late. Both gobbled up open field with ease.

The second half featured a running clock as a full stadium leisurely began to lose its red. As the fourth quarter began, the excitement moved back outdoors—back to the tailgates and the cooked meat and the open air.

Gray edged Scarlet 17-14, for those interested in such things. Those in attendance weren't the least bit flustered or consumed by the score. This was never about points or even final spring impressions; this was about staying healthy—above all—and celebrating a historic time for the program.

It was a day when the nation's most discussed quarterback competition—one that will pick up intensity as August nears—took a backseat in the name of entertainment. And somehow, in some unusual and unfamiliar way, it all made perfect sense.

At some point in the next six months, the gluttony of quarterbacks will reach a boiling point. But on Saturday, the three showcased a wide range of potential while doing so with smiles.

"There's going to be a lot of people interested," Meyer said on the quarterback race. "I know you [media], but the families and the player, much more. I want to be able to look those people in the eye and say this is where we're at and not be a shocker when it happens."

Image via Bleacher Report

As I walked out of the stadium and past the sea of red—past the areas where scalpers unexpectedly clustered just a few hours earlier—the celebration began to slow. Sunburn showed on those who had refused to take the April sun seriously. Cars chugged along in game-day traffic.

I migrated back to where I started, to the redbrick structure with "Clinton Predestinarian Baptist Church" plastered on the front and "O-H-I-O" embedded on the side.

The crowd had grown in size since the night before as a tailgate broke out. Buyers shuffled out of the front doors, national championship merchandise in hand. Like the stadium only hours earlier, open seats were hard to come by.

Sitting in makeshift chairs, enjoying makeshift drinks, the group in place didn't talk about the impending quarterback dilemma. It didn't strain over the expectations to repeat. Jim Harbaugh's name never surfaced.

Those moments are coming. They are unavoidable. The burden that comes with being king will hit the head coach and work its way down to the quarterbacks and eventually to the nearly 100,000 people who visited the Horseshoe on an April afternoon.

But not then, not on Saturday. It was a celebration, after all.

Adam Kramer is the College Football National Lead Writer for Bleacher Report. Unless noted, all quotes were obtained firsthand.