NCAAF
Ohio State didn’t lose the Big Ten Championship because of one play.
They lost it because the night felt wrong.
The rhythm was off. The aggression never showed up. The Buckeyes played not to lose — and somehow still managed to do exactly that. A 13–10 loss to Indiana that felt less like a football game and more like a slow leak in a tire you didn’t realize was flat until the car was already in the ditch.
And now, weeks later, with the College Football Playoff looming and the program supposedly unified, Brian Hartline just tossed a match into the locker room.
On his way out the door to become the next head coach at South Florida, Hartline extended a scholarship offer to Angelo Smith — an Ohio State commit, a three-star safety, and, oh yeah, the younger brother of Jeremiah Smith, the most important offensive player in Columbus.
That’s not just awkward.
That’s not just “weird timing.”
That’s a flashing red light that Ohio State should not ignore.
Let’s be clear: recruiting is messy. Coaches leave, players flip, assistants line up future jobs all the time. That’s college football in 2025 — transactional, ruthless, and increasingly shameless.
But there’s still an unwritten code.
You don’t recruit against the program you are actively coaching.
You don’t dangle scholarships to commits you helped secure.
And you absolutely don’t mess with the family ecosystem of your current star player while you’re still wearing the same headset on Saturdays.
Yet here we are.
Hartline — still Ohio State’s offensive coordinator, still calling plays, still prepping for the CFP — offered a scholarship to Angelo Smith, who committed to the Buckeyes back in September as part of the 2027 class. Angelo isn’t a receiver. He doesn’t play Hartline’s position group. There’s no schematic overlap. No developmental pitch. No logical football reason this move needed to happen now.
Which is exactly why it looks the way it does.
Ohio State’s 13–10 loss to Indiana already put Hartline under a microscope.
This was his first season as the primary play-caller, and the Big Ten Championship became Exhibit A for his critics: conservative sequencing, predictable tendencies, and a fourth quarter that felt like it was sponsored by punting on your own ceiling.
After the game, Ryan Day publicly backed Hartline, saying he would continue calling plays. But let’s not pretend that endorsement erased the frustration. The Buckeyes didn’t lose because they lacked talent. They lost because the offense never seized control — and in a program with championship expectations, that matters.
So when the same coordinator whose play-calling just face-planted on a national stage is now making self-serving recruiting moves for his next job, it forces an uncomfortable question:
Is Brian Hartline fully invested in Ohio State’s success — or already mentally checked out?
On paper, the offer doesn’t even make sense.
Angelo Smith is a three-star safety from South Florida who chose Ohio State over Miami and Oklahoma State. He’s not projected to play with his brother. He’s years away from seeing the field. And the odds of him flipping to USF — a Group of Five program in rebuild mode — are microscopic.
Which means this isn’t about roster building.
This is about leverage.
By offering Angelo, Hartline inserts himself into the most sensitive relationship Ohio State has right now: the Jeremiah Smith orbit. Families talk. Recruits talk. Agents talk. Even if no flip ever happens, the seed is planted.
And planting that seed while you’re still on Ohio State’s payroll is the part that should alarm athletic director Ross Bjork the most.
It’s not just bad optics.
It’s conflicted behavior.
Imagine an NFL offensive coordinator, weeks before a playoff run, quietly recruiting a depth player to join him at his next job — while still game-planning for his current team.
That coordinator would be walked out of the building before lunch.
College football shouldn’t get a pass just because the rules are looser. The stakes are just as high. Ohio State is chasing a national title, not playing out the string in the Music City Bowl.
And every assistant coach in that building now has to wonder:
Is our OC coaching for us — or auditioning for Tampa?
Hartline is building his USF staff. He’s preparing to run an entire program. That’s understandable. But the timing of this move is what turns suspicion into scrutiny.
If this offer went out after Ohio State’s season ended, it would still be questionable — but defensible. Right now, it feels like someone packing boxes before the lease is up.
Ohio State doesn’t need that energy heading into the CFP. They need clarity. Alignment. And a coaching staff rowing in the same direction.
Instead, they’re stuck managing potential awkward meetings, strained trust, and a storyline that didn’t need to exist.
This isn’t about whether Hartline is a good receivers coach. He is.
This isn’t about whether he deserves a head coaching job. He probably does.
This is about boundaries.
If Ohio State allows an assistant coach to actively recruit against its own commitments while still calling plays, it sets a precedent that erodes internal trust. It tells players that loyalty is optional and timing doesn’t matter.
And for a program that sells “The Brotherhood” as a brand, that’s dangerous.
At minimum, Hartline should be removed from recruiting responsibilities immediately. At maximum — and frankly, more appropriately — Ohio State should seriously consider whether he should be calling plays at all the rest of the way.
Because when a coach starts acting like he’s already gone, sometimes the best move is to help him finish packing.
Ohio State doesn’t have a Brian Hartline problem.
They have a moment-of-truth problem.
Elite programs are defined by how they handle gray areas. This one isn’t black-and-white — but it’s close enough that pretending it’s fine feels negligent.
Hartline may be headed to Tampa.
But until he is, Ohio State deserves a coordinator who isn’t looking over his shoulder — or reaching back into the pantry on the way out.
If the Buckeyes want to win a national title, they can’t afford divided loyalties. Not now. Not ever.
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