Overwhelmed Stadium Squirrel Calmed With Concession Pretzels and Evacuated in Beer Box

What happened

According to UPI, law enforcement officers in central Ohio were summoned to Ohio State University’s football stadium on Saturday afternoon after an unexpected visitor wandered into the stands during the game against Ball State. A wild squirrel had somehow made its way deep into the crowded grandstands and promptly found itself trapped among the spectators.

The Perry Township Police Department shared details of the rescue on social media, describing the event as a rather unusual rescue. Responding personnel noted that the small animal had found itself inside the massive venue and was understandably scared and overwhelmed by the noise and the surrounding commotion. Spectators seated nearby noticed the rodent’s distress and attempted to de-escalate the situation by offering it stadium pretzels.

A police sergeant arrived at the seating section to take charge of the scene. Rather than deploying specialized tactical equipment, the sergeant utilized an empty cardboard beer box to contain the squirrel. The officer then transported the animal out of the facility and released it onto the surrounding grounds, where the department noted it was free to continue its day.

Dale Kowalski weighs in

I worked twenty-two years in local television news across the upper Midwest, and in all that time I learned one constant rule about municipal crisis management. When something goes wrong on a Saturday afternoon, somebody will inevitably attempt to solve it with whatever came in the trunk of a Buick.

Saturday at Ohio Stadium was a classic of the genre. The Buckeyes were playing Ball State. A football stadium on game day is not a quiet place. More than one hundred thousand people gather in concrete bowls to yell at students carrying leather balls. Into this environment wandered an ordinary tree squirrel. According to the Perry Township Police Department, the animal became overwhelmed. That is the police word for it. It is also an extraordinary piece of understatement. If you were four inches tall and found yourself surrounded by eighty vertical feet of screaming adults in red jerseys, overwhelmed is probably the baseline.

The reaction of the crowd is what gets me. Nobody called for an evacuation. Nobody ran. The people in the bleachers looked at a panicked rodent and decided the correct clinical response was concession pretzels. That is Midwestern hospitality at its purest. You do not ask how the guest got into the parlor. You just offer carbs. In Ohio, when a relative shows up unannounced and clearly in the middle of a personal crisis, you hand them a baked good and wait for the blood pressure to drop. It turns out this protocol applies equally to wildlife.

I once covered a high school basketball regional in Fort Wayne where a pigeon flew down from the rafters and landed squarely on the scorer’s table during the third quarter. The athletic director stood up, looked at the bird, and threw a warm hot dog bun at it. The bird ate the bun, stayed on the table for seven more minutes, and nobody stopped the clock. People think emergencies require a plan. Mostly they require baked dough.

Eventually, authority arrived in the form of a police sergeant. The department did not deploy an animal snare or a specialized tactical net. The sergeant found an empty cardboard beer box, placed the squirrel inside it, and walked it down the concourse. Every town in America runs on cardboard boxes that previously held domestic lager. They move our college freshmen into dorms. They hold our spare jumper cables in the garage. On Saturday in Columbus, one served as a municipal paddy wagon for an overstimulated tree rodent.

The police reported that the sergeant released the squirrel outside the gates so he could continue his day. I appreciate that phrasing. It suggests the squirrel had a schedule. Maybe an afternoon meeting behind the library. Maybe some lawn maintenance to finish before dinner. He sat through some college football, was offered some free salted dough, took a ride in a beer case, and went right back to his routine.

Nobody was hurt. Ball State lost, which everyone expected anyway. And somewhere near the Olentangy River, a squirrel is trying to explain to his family why his fur smells like draft Miller Lite and ballpark salt.

That’s the news. Somebody had to say it.