The Michigan-Ohio State football rivalry now includes who handles their trash better.
In the hallowed annals of college football, few rivalries burn as fiercely as that between the University of Michigan Wolverines and the Ohio State Buckeyes. For over a century, "The Game" has been a battleground of gridiron supremacy, dictating bragging rights, national championship aspirations, and the very identity of two proud states. Yet, in an unexpected twist that underscores the pervasive nature of this storied animosity, the competition has now spilled over from the stadium turf to the humble realm of waste management. Fans, faculty, and even environmental sustainability directors at both institutions are now locked in a new kind of contest: who can best manage the mountains of trash generated during game days.
This unique extension of the rivalry is no mere jest; it’s a serious, data-driven initiative fueled by a nationwide program known as the Campus Race to Zero Waste. This annual challenge mobilizes universities across the United States to meticulously track, reduce, and divert waste from landfills, specifically focusing on the massive quantities generated during home football games. The categories are clear: recycling, composting, and ultimately, the landfill diversion rate – the percentage of total waste that avoids ending up in a dump. For Michigan and Ohio State, this means transforming game day from a simple sporting event into a massive, live-action sustainability experiment, complete with "armies" of dedicated volunteers, intricate sorting protocols, and a healthy dose of competitive spirit.
Last season, the Buckeyes clinched not one, but two national titles: their impressive performance on the football field was mirrored by an equally dominant showing in the realm of waste management. Ohio State proudly announced a staggering 94% diversion rate for their game day waste, a figure that placed them firmly at the top of the national leaderboard in the Campus Race to Zero Waste. This meant that an overwhelming majority of the cups, plates, food scraps, and packaging left behind by over 100,000 cheering fans found new life through recycling or composting. Michigan, while still achieving a commendable 79% diversion rate, found themselves trailing their arch-rivals in this particular environmental contest.
Mary Leciejewski, Ohio State’s associate director of environmental sustainability, embodies this dual championship spirit. For her and her team, the satisfaction of a high diversion rate is as sweet, if not sweeter, than a victory on the field. "I mean, it just comes with the territory," Leciejewski remarked, acknowledging that the competitive fire inherent in the Michigan-Ohio State rivalry naturally extends to every conceivable metric. Her pride is palpable as she discusses the dedication required to achieve such a feat, highlighting the meticulous planning and execution behind every recycling bin and composting station.
Across the divide, Paul Dunlop, Michigan’s associate athletic director for facilities, while undoubtedly feeling the sting of coming in second to Ohio State, maintains a profound sense of accomplishment regarding Michigan’s sustainability efforts. For Dunlop, the message transmitted by stadium sustainability transcends mere competition; it’s a powerful lesson in civic responsibility. "I think if we can do it for over 100,000 people, you can do it at your house," he asserted, emphasizing the broader educational impact these large-scale efforts have on individual fan behavior. The commitment shown by a massive university community, he believes, serves as a potent example for personal environmental stewardship.
At the heart of both universities’ success are their passionate student volunteers. These young environmental champions are the unsung heroes of game day, working tirelessly behind the scenes and often directly engaging with fans. At Ohio State, Meredith Butt, an ecology student, dedicates her weekends to the stadium. Her role goes beyond mere collection; she actively educates fans at sorting stations, guiding them on how to properly separate recyclables from compostables. "So much of what we throw away doesn’t need to be thrown away, and it just feels really rewarding to be a part of that," Butt explained, articulating the deep satisfaction derived from preventing perfectly reusable or compostable materials from ending up in a landfill. Her hands-on experience at the stadium provides a practical application for her academic studies, reinforcing the tangible impact of sustainable practices.
Michigan’s approach offers a compelling full-circle narrative. The compostable waste collected from their stadium doesn’t simply disappear; it’s transported to the university’s campus farm. Here, the organic matter undergoes a transformative process, breaking down into nutrient-rich soil. This revitalized soil then nourishes the very produce that is eventually harvested and served back at the stadium, closing the loop in a truly regenerative cycle. This innovative system exemplifies the circular economy in action, where "waste" is reframed as a valuable resource. Mia Terek, a Michigan graduate student studying sustainability, eloquently captures the essence of this tangible impact. "For me, waste is a very tangible part of sustainability. You don’t really see emissions, but you see waste, you see litter on the floor," she observed, highlighting how the visible nature of waste makes it a powerful entry point for understanding broader environmental issues.
The dedication extends beyond sorting and composting. Achieving such high diversion rates requires meticulous planning, from sourcing compostable cutlery and plates to strategically placing clearly labeled bins throughout the stadium. Educational campaigns are launched before game days, using social media, campus announcements, and signage to inform fans about the waste sorting procedures. Volunteers often undergo training to identify different materials and answer fan questions, ensuring minimal contamination of waste streams. This comprehensive approach is vital, as a single contaminated bin can render an entire batch of recyclables or compostables unusable.
The rivalry’s embrace of sustainability also reflects a growing institutional commitment to environmental responsibility within higher education. Universities, as centers of innovation and learning, are increasingly taking leadership roles in addressing global environmental challenges. By making game day waste management a point of pride and competition, Michigan and Ohio State are not only reducing their own ecological footprints but also inspiring their vast alumni networks, local communities, and indeed, other universities to follow suit. The sheer scale of operations—managing waste for crowds equivalent to small cities—serves as a powerful proof of concept for large-scale sustainability initiatives.
Looking ahead, the "trash rivalry" promises to intensify. Ohio State will undoubtedly strive to maintain its dominant position, pushing for an even higher diversion rate, perhaps aiming for near-perfect zero waste. Michigan, on the other hand, will be fueled by the desire to reclaim bragging rights, not just on the field but also in the sustainability arena. This ongoing competition will likely spur further innovations in waste collection technologies, fan engagement strategies, and partnerships with local recycling and composting facilities. It could lead to more robust research into biodegradable materials, more efficient sorting processes, and deeper integration of sustainability principles into campus operations and curricula.
Ultimately, this quirky extension of the Michigan-Ohio State rivalry serves as a powerful metaphor. It demonstrates that even the most deeply entrenched traditions can evolve to incorporate new values, and that fierce competition can be channeled toward shared positive outcomes. While the roar of the crowd on game day will always celebrate touchdowns and tackles, there’s a quieter, yet equally significant, victory being sought in the diligent sorting of a compostable cup or the successful recycling of a plastic bottle. As Mary Leciejewski aptly summarized, for her team and the legions of volunteers, "It’s nice to be champions on the field, but for us, it’s all about the diversion rate." In this unique chapter of one of sports’ greatest rivalries, winning means a cleaner planet, one perfectly sorted bin at a time.
