COLUMBUS, Ohio – Over the last year, Northwestern has proven that it’s a second-half team.

Game after game, the Wildcats have pulled off miracle finishes, the last coming just more than a week ago.

But what those miracle finishes have hidden is now all too obvious following an embarrassing blowout loss to Ohio State. When opportunity knocks in the first half, the Cats must jump on it — or else they can expect to get beaten badly by good teams.

It happened last year in the Alamo Bowl and it happened again on Saturday night. The Cats made mistakes that the opposition managed to capitalize on — and it cost them dearly.

Be it a Damien Anderson fumble-turned-Ohio-State-touchdown or two Zak Kustok overthrows to wide-open targets downfield — the second going for an interception — NU blew a number of chances to win a winnable game.

Basically, this is a team that is good enough on paper to beat up any team on its schedule. But on the field, it’s a different story.

So now head coach Randy Walker faces an interesting dilemma. The preseason favorite in the Big Ten can’t come out of the gates quickly when it needs to, and his team will suffer the consequences if it can’t find a way to change things quickly.

Now what?

There will be the temptation to forget this game completely and move on, enjoying what will probably be easy wins at home over inferior opponents in the next two weeks.

But if the Cats do so, they shouldn’t expect to win games against teams that can play with them — barring the occasional miracle.

If they want to be a really good team this year (read: not losing more than one additional game this year and having a shot at a BCS bowl game), they have to take some important lessons out of this ugly contest.

First of all, games last 60 minutes. It helps to show up for the first 30.

Second, the Cats can’t play the cardiac game forever. When they get chances to score, no matter if it’s the first minute or the last, they have to score. Letting games stay close just doesn’t cut it. Not anymore. One play that goes the wrong way — Mike Doss’ first-quarter touchdown being last Saturday’s prime example — and things can get out of hand awfully quickly.

Most importantly, NU must understand that the team can’t pass off a loss like this as an anomaly. Fact of the matter is that it’s not the first time mistakes like this have cost NU a football game in ugly fashion.

“That wasn’t NU football as we know it,” Walker said. “It wasn’t us. It wasn’t Northwestern.”

Walker couldn’t have said anything further from the truth if he tried. And his team knows it.

“Obviously we played like trash,” senior linebacker Billy Silva said. “Some people say that wasn’t us, that wasn’t Northwestern.”

Then he paused.

“That was us.”

Until the Cats accept this fact — that it is fully in their nature to put up an absolute joke of an effort, even in the games that count the most — you can forget about any major-bowl hopes.

Until they accept that fact, the only thing they will do consistently is play inconsistently.

And that’s the most frustrating thing about this football team. In a game that’s been circled on the calendar for months, NU shouldn’t have even bothered to get off the bus. For most teams, it would have been the most disgusting letdown in years. For NU, it seems to happen about every three weeks.

So don’t be surprised if the Cats come out and beat up on Minnesota six days from now. But don’t be surprised if they fall behind by three touchdowns at halftime, either.

These Cats certainly do trust one another; there’s no way they would win so many close games if they didn’t. Credit Walker and his staff for that.

Still, this team isn’t ready for the big time. Saturday night served as painful proof. For some reason, NU just hasn’t matured to a point where it can consider itself a legitimate top-10 or top-15 power.

The 2001 Cats have shown themselves to be identical twins of last year’s team. They are good, better than most. They are not the best, and more often than not that’s because of themselves, not their opposition.

It’s a sign of a team that isn’t ready to shake the loser label, even if it should be. And it won’t until every player and coach can truthfully say, “That wasn’t us,” when they play so pitifully.

The Cats should be the best bunch in the Big Ten. They’re not.

But that’s just them.