Allow me to preface my brief ramble with this: there are few people who have spent more time at the Jerome Schottenstein Center than myself. Aside from the athletes and coaches themselves, you’ll be hard-pressed to find someone who has spent more hours inside that concrete monster on the corner of Lane Ave and Olentangy River Road than I have.
When I was a freshman at Ohio State in the fall of 2015, still wide-eyed and wet behind the ears, I was looking for part-time work to fit between my class schedule. Something to cover weekend expenses and my cell phone bill, and not much more.