I won’t lie, I really struggled to find a topic worth writing about for this week’s issue of The Field Review which is why I’m publishing at 10AM MST instead of my usual EST.
I’m currently sitting in a hotel room in Boulder, Colorado looking out over the Flatirons as they stretch up into the sky outside my window. I just wrapped up a few days skiing in Aspen and am now here in Boulder for work, swapping ski boots for team meetings.
As my family and I made our way out to the Centennial State this week, connecting both ways through the Denver airport, I saw the familiar travel uniforms of those who wear their hometowns on their sleeves.
As someone who flies pretty often, I’m used to seeing college logos on sweatshirts, hometown hats, and luggage plastered with team stickers. It’s the reason why I often throw on my Ohio State gear when I travel. It’s not just comfortable; it’s a signal, a quiet nod to anyone else in the terminal who might share the same roots.
On this trip, I didn’t get the usual "O-H!" callouts, but I did catch a few knowing nods from others wearing the Block O or a Buckeye leaf. I also got some defeated glances from travelers sporting logos we left in our wake during our most recent—and ninth—national championship run last week. An Oregon "O" on a backpack, a Texas Longhorn hoodie, a Notre Dame crest stitched onto a duffel bag. And then, of course, there was the bum in the Michigan Block M hat, who locked eyes with me in what can only be described as the cold, bitter stare of a fan whose championship era was just wiped out by ours.
It’s subtle, but the decision to wear your hometown gear is a reminder that even when you’re far from home, you’re still part of something bigger.
The Shape of a Place
German-American psychologist Kurt Lewin argued that behavior is a function of a person and their environment. Who you are can’t be separated from where you’re from.
Your hometown—the place you grew up in—shaped your values, your routines, and how you see the world whether you like it or not.
For me, that’s Central Ohio.
In the Midwest, our culture runs on a steady rhythm. There’s a pace to life here that feels consistent and often comforting. You know the seasons not just by the weather but by what they bring with them.
Saturdays in the fall are as much a part of life as deer season in November. The crisp mornings, the sound of the band coming down the tunnel, the presence of scarlet and gray in every corner of every gas station and grocery store. Watching the first Script Ohio of the season is a feeling as distinct as the first frost.
Ohio State football is more than a game; it’s woven into the fabric of our region.
There’s a shared understanding that for a few hours every Saturday, an entire state presses pause to watch its team. It’s family, tradition, and pride all rolled into one.
And now, after winning our ninth national championship last week, it feels even more ingrained. Part of the natural order.
The Buckeye Standard
For me, Ohio State is about so much more than wins and losses on Saturdays. I didn’t grow up playing football, but I still watched every game with my family.
It was (and still is) a tradition.
Funny enough, I didn’t even know I wanted to go to Ohio State until my senior year of high school. I’d only been to campus a handful of times despite living only an hour away. But when I took a tour, something clicked.
It wasn’t just the size of the stadium or the energy of campus; it was the feeling that this was where I was supposed to be. By the end of that visit, I knew I wanted to spend the next four years there. And I loved it so much, I went back again a few years later to get my MBA.
Ohio State isn’t just a school or a football program to me. It’s part of who I am. It’s woven into the culture I grew up in and the way I see the world.
Some people might think Buckeye fans are crazy, and maybe we are because we often let the game on the field impact our emotions more than it should.
But it’s deeper than that. The reason we set such high standards—the reason “the standard is the standard”—is because Ohio State feels like an extension of ourselves.
When the team doesn’t live up to those expectations, it feels like WE didn’t live up to them.
For better or worse, that’s the mindset of a Buckeye. We strive for greatness on the field, but it’s just as much about achieving greatness in life.
It’s not about being perfect; it’s about holding ourselves to a higher standard and putting in the work to get the job done. That’s what being a Buckeye means to me.
The Truth About Home
I know that not everyone loves where they’re from. Some people can’t wait to leave. Others never get the chance. But whether you love it or resent it, your hometown shapes you.
It teaches you what matters, whether by giving you abundance or scarcity. It builds your routines and your perspective.
Ohio (and Ohio State) has taught me to appreciate steadiness. To value consistency. To find meaning in the small, familiar things, because they’re often the things that last.
Saturdays in the fall. A cold morning in a tree stand. The way snow covers a field in January, and maybe stays covered until April.
Those moments aren’t flashy, but they’re part of what makes life here meaningful.
Carrying It With You
As I sit here, staring at the Flatirons, I’m reminded that you can love where you’re from without being tethered to it. You can carry it with you and let it ground you, even as you explore new places.
I love spending time in the mountains. I like spending time at the beach. But I wouldn’t give up the rolling hills or corn fields in Ohio to live my life anywhere else.
Where you’re from doesn’t have to define you, but it does shape how you see the world and how you move through it.
Ohio is always with me, not because I’m trying to hold on to it, but because it’s simply part of who I am.
From My Desk:
What I’m Thinking About: January 2025 is almost at a close. If this is a sign of 2025 as a whole, I need to start doing more to keep up.
What I’m Doing: I just finished up a few days skiing in Aspen. I grew up skiing and snowboarding, but I’ve only been on the slopes twice in the last 15 years before this trip. Fortunately (or unfortunately) I fell back in love with it which means that I have yet another hobby to keep me busy in the colder months.
On Deck for Monday: As I mentioned, I have a few more work days ahead of me here in Boulder, Colorado. Looking forward to outlining a few more professional goals for the year ahead.
From The Field Review Archives:
The Field Review is a space for exploring the intersection of work, life, and the great outdoors. It’s about figuring ‘it’ out—whatever your ‘it’ might be.
Every Sunday at 10AM EST, I share ideas, insights, and conversations that help break through the noise, offering a real look at how we can all keep moving forward.
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Venture Onward,
Jack
As much flack as we get being from Ohio, I wouldn’t want to call anywhere else home!
I can’t tell you how painful it was as a Penn State alum to hit the like button. But I did.