Before Ohio Republican Jim Jordan became a polarizing political figure in Congress as a pugilistic performance artist and slavish follower of President Donald Trump, he was a four-time state wrestling champ and two-time NCAA national wrestling champ who, in 1986, brought his talents to Ohio State University as an assistant wrestling coach. The 18-, 19- and 20-year-olds Jordan coached through grueling practices and brutal matches respected his knowledge and skill, and as they put it all on the mat for Buckeye glory, they trusted Jordan to be there for them. On the sidelines. In their face. Through pins and takedowns. Injuries and infractions.
The 18-, 19- and 20-year-olds Jordan coached respected his knowledge and skill, and they trusted Jordan to be there for them.
But multiple OSU wrestlers say in the new HBO documentary “Surviving Ohio State” that when they were subjected to serial sexual assaults by the team doctor, Dr. Richard Strauss, Jordan wasn’t there for them. According to an independent investigation published in 2018, Strauss, who died by suicide in 2005, “sexually abused at least 177 male student-patients” at OSU over a 20-year period, including at least 48 men on the wrestling team. And several of Jordan’s wrestlers during his eight-year coaching stint at OSU have included themselves in that number.
Multiple wrestlers say Jordan (who coached at OSU from 1986 to 1994) knew Strauss (who voluntarily retired in 1998) was abusing them and did nothing. Dan Ritchie, who wrestled for Jordan from 1988 to 1992, alleges in the documentary that the assistant coach directly addressed his athletes about the allegations against Strauss with this crack: “If he ever did that to me, I’d snap his neck like a stick of dry balsa wood.”
In total, six wrestlers have said that they had conversations with Jordan about Strauss’ increasingly abusive groping, fondling, trauma-inducing exams and that he acknowledged their complaints. But in the same way he avoided being pinned down as a wrestler, he has avoided being pinned down by reports from wrestlers who say he didn’t protect him and that they weren’t able to count on him for help.
This isn’t a new scandal. When it broke in 2018, Jordan immediately disavowed knowing of anything untoward about the notorious team doctor and was adamant that if he had known about any type of abuse, “I would have done something about it.” And, after having suffered no obvious political consequences over the last seven years because of the explosive OSU story, he responded to the HBO documentary in essentially the same way as before: “Chairman Jordan never saw or heard of any abuse, and if he had, he would have dealt with it,” his office said in a statement.
In 2023, as Jordan was vying to become House speaker, a former wrestler known only as John Doe, told NBC News, “My problem with Jimmy is that he has been playing with words instead of supporting us.” That former athlete said, “None of us used the words ‘sexual abuse’ when we talked about what Doc Strauss was doing to us, we just knew it was weird and Jimmy knew about it because we talked about it all the time in the locker room, at practices, everywhere.”
Chairman Jordan never saw or heard of any abuse, and if he had, he would have dealt with it.
A statement from rep. jim jordan’s office
University personnel, along with multiple coaches, were aware of the abuse as early as 1979, according to an independent investigation commissioned by Ohio State. What Strauss was doing, multiple students told those investigators, was an “open secret” on campus that seemingly everyone shrugged off. That report found that 22 coaches, 18 student trainers and “five team physicians and/or Sports Medicine Fellows whose employment at OSU overlapped with Strauss” told investigators “they were aware of rumors or complaints about Strauss” going at least back as far as the early 1980s and extending at least into the mid-1990s. But no individuals were named in that report.
As the documentary “Surviving Ohio State” neared release this month, a spokesperson for the university gave a statement to WOSU public radio that WOSU said “expressed deep regret and apologies for Strauss’ actions” but emphasized how long ago the doctor’s abuse occurred. That spokesperson, Ben Johnson, said the university is “fundamentally different today than when Strauss was an employee” and added, “Over the past 25 years, Ohio State has made robust changes to its culture and policies to protect students, faculty and staff.”
In the HBO documentary, former wrestlers at OSU recall the excitement of being awarded full athletic scholarships to a legendary sports institution as naive youths at the top of their game. They are in middle age now and forever scarred by what Strauss did to them and others behind closed doors. The team doctor’s pattern of sexual abuse — from inappropriate genital exams to locker room voyeurism and rape — was bad enough. What made it worse for many who came forward was the cold indifference of the people they say they told.
You expect a coach to have your back. A good one cultivates trust with his athletes not only as someone who knows how to win but also as a teacher of discipline, a model of even-handedness, a confidant of players under pressure, a protector on the field and off.
When the OSU scandal became front page news, not only did Jordan deny knowing anything, but one of his former wrestlers said Jordan reached out to him and pressured him to discount his brother’s story that Jordan knew and did nothing about his abuse. That person also said Jordan had called and pressured other wrestlers to “flip their stories.” It was 2018, and Jordan, a founding member of the conservative Freedom Caucus, had just launched bid to replace then-House Speaker Paul Ryan, and the scandal threatened to end his political career. The scandal didn’t end Jordan’s political career. He has won three consecutive elections since. “Another lie,” Jordan’s communications director told The Washington Post. “Congressman Jordan never saw or heard of any abuse, and if he had, he would have dealt with it.” The scandal didn’t end Jordan’s political career. He has won three consecutive elections since — by his customary 2-to-1 ratio — in one of the most egregiously gerrymandered districts in Ohio. Jordan, who has never in his more than 18 years in Congress sponsored a bill that became a law, has ironclad job security in this red state. He also benefits from the fanaticism surrounding Buckeye Nation among Ohioans who bleed scarlet and gray and would rather not dwell on anything that detracts from the cultlike lore of OSU as a Midwest-proud powerhouse. He skated from the OSU scandal without a scratch or a smoking gun that proves he knew of the sexual abuse that OSU’s independent investigation said was ongoing the whole time he was there. If some of Strauss’ wrestling victims are to be believed, Jordan could have stopped the harm being inflicted upon them. But Jordan appears not to be the least bit worried about political repercussions for his reported cowardice. Why should he? To this point, there haven’t been any. In 2023, as Jordan was vying to become House speaker, a former wrestler known only as John Doe, told NBC News, “My problem with Jimmy is that he has been playing with words instead of supporting us.” That former athlete said, “None of us used the words ‘sexual abuse’ when we talked about what Doc Strauss was doing to us, we just knew it was weird and Jimmy knew about it because we talked about it all the time in the locker room, at practices, everywhere.”
Marilou Johanek
Marilou Johanek is a veteran Ohio print and broadcast journalist who has covered state and national politics in addition to early writing and producing stints at CBS News and CNN. The Ohio native has also analyzed policymaking and political players as a longtime newspaper editorial writer and columnist. She is currently a weekly columnist for the Ohio Capital Journal, which is part of States Newsroom, the nation’s largest state-focused nonprofit news organization. 
