Urban Meyer needed to watch film.

That isn't unusual for the Ohio State coach in late December, particularly when he’s just a couple days shy of packing up his team and heading out to compete for a national championship.

But these sessions in the gap between his team’s last practice and the end of the holiday break are decidedly different for Meyer these days.

He has traded the office for his daughter’s house nearby, where she started living in November, just a couple minutes' walk down the road from Meyer's home. He isn't surrounded by coaches, and he doesn’t need to hold a laser pointer, having replaced the former with his kids and the latter with a new grandchild. Meyer has already built a reputation for hogging him from the rest of the family.

And of course, instead of watching Clemson to get ready for the College Football Playoff semifinal at the PlayStation Fiesta Bowl, he’s watching Mark Wahlberg in “Deepwater Horizon.”

“That was a terrible tragedy,” Meyer said. “But it was a great movie.”

Hollywood blockbusters instead of defensive cutups?

Afternoon strolls around the neighborhood and extra babysitting sessions?

Keeping the schedule clear for family time so close to the College Football Playoff?

“It’s not hard to believe it now,” his wife, Shelley Meyer, said. “But if you would have asked me five years ago, I would have said that I have to see it to believe it. I’ve got to see it first -- because I hadn’t seen it.

“When we first started here, I didn’t know if he was going to follow the contract, as he said he would. I didn’t know if he could.”

Five years later, any of those doubts have disappeared. The brand-new grandpa of a growing family won’t need to renegotiate any terms to live up to his end of the bargain.

***

Nicki never expected the list of 10 expectations for her dad to be taken so seriously.

Even the color of the contract was something of a joke, with the pink notebook paper and her request for an iPad reflecting her sense of humor and a way to lighten up some intense family discussions as Urban weighed a return to coaching late in 2011.

But Nicki helped take the lead on the conversation, the famous terms eventually became public, and the framed sheet still hangs in an office at the Woody Hayes Athletic Center as a daily reminder of what should be important to her father.

“I knew my dad would get it, and I expected him to take it seriously, whether I was being as serious about it as the media made it sound or not,” Nicki said. “I tried to kind of be silly with it, but deep down, I did expect him to look at that and know I was serious and know that if he ever was going to go back to coaching, those were the rules.

“I’m really thankful that he took it as seriously as I had hoped. We are together all the time, he makes time for friends and family, and he’s just really doing an awesome job.”

That was obviously the expectation, but as is the case with any game plan, Urban still had to execute.

Although he’s as relentless as ever at work and his trademark intensity hasn’t waned at all as he built an Ohio State juggernaut that has gone 61-5 since his arrival, the key has been figuring out when it’s time to punch the clock and take on a different role.

That means turning down speaking engagements in the offseason, when they interfere with the baseball schedule of his son, Nate. Or it means hopping in the car to drive a couple hours to watch his daughter Gigi compete as a wakeboarder. Or it means making sure Shelley is on the sideline after games, so he can wrap an arm around her and sing “Carmen Ohio” after victories.

While the relative lack of losses might help Meyer relax, it’s also distinctly possible that all those victories are the product of a different mindset.

“Urban works just as hard as he ever did,” Shelley said. “I think he’s learned to enjoy his down time, and I think he enjoys it more now because he also knows he needs it. His whole focus used to be just on work, work, work, work, and he had to have a new attitude in order for us to allow him to take this job.

“I mean, that’s his daughter telling him that: ‘You can’t do this job unless you chill out a little more and do these things to stay healthy.’ He did have an attitude adjustment -- a huge attitude adjustment. That doesn’t mean his intensity is any less, but I think he has learned to manage it.”

Now he’s carving out even more time away from football because it turns out he loves being “Buddy” Meyer.

***

The nicknames were picked out before Dec. 4.

Shelley was going to be “Mimi” because Nicki didn’t want her mom to sound like an “old grandmother.” Urban wanted something to pay tribute to his father, Bud, so he requested that his first grandchild call him Buddy, like his sisters used to call his dad.

Then, on the Sunday the playoff pairings were announced, the committee confirmed the Buckeyes, and Nicki made those titles official on an emotional, busy day in the Meyer family.

“It was a really great day,” Shelley said. “Of course, we didn’t know everything was going to happen in one day, since [Nicki’s new son] Troy was a month early. He wasn’t supposed to be born then, but he’s our Selection Sunday baby.

“Of course, six hours later, we find out we did make it into the playoff. I don’t know, that just made it the best day ever. Having our first grandchild was the best day ever, and then getting some good career news was awesome too. He was so excited about the baby.”

Meyer watched the unveiling of the bracket from a waiting room in the maternity ward at a local hospital. Eventually, he arrived at the practice facility to start preparing for Clemson while wearing a grin that seemingly still hasn’t faded.

He has installed himself at the top of the depth chart for holding Troy, surprising even Shelley with the way he has embraced being a grandfather.

“Oh, yeah, because my time is limited,” Urban joked. “So I make sure that there are only two people who can really take him from me, and that’s his mom and dad. Grandma can’t, aunt and uncles can’t. It’s special. I tell you what: It’s unbelievable.

“When it happened, it was like someone hit you right in the jaw -- in a good way.”

The tap from the selection committee a few hours later was certainly a nice bonus as well.

***

The first meeting was at a fraternity party, just like when Urban met Shelley in college. Nicki giggles at the location now as she recounts meeting her husband, Corey Dennis, when the two were student-athletes at Georgia Tech.

But the biggest laugh is reserved for remembering the look on Dennis' face when he realized who her father was.

“He told me, by the way, that he wanted to coach before he even knew who I was, before he had any idea who my dad was for the longest time,” Nicki said. “I remember hearing him say that and thinking, ‘That’s weird.’

“I had some friends over at my apartment one day, and my dad is my best friend, so there was this whole wall of pictures of us and him and his accomplishments and all that great stuff. Corey went to use my bathroom and came out like he had seen a ghost. ‘Oh my gosh, I didn’t know who your dad was. I feel like such an idiot.’”

Dennis certainly knows Meyer better now, having gone beyond joining the family by also becoming a graduate assistant for the Buckeyes and helping coach the wide receivers. Meyer is not just spending time with the family outside the office. He’s also working alongside a son-in-law and taking his famed family nights to a whole new level.

The Meyer tradition, which dates to his time as an assistant at Colorado State and has become a staple of his programs since he first landed a head-coaching job at Bowling Green, has grown over the years, from the wives and kids of his staff bringing candy bars to practice on Thursdays to full-blown events that draw former players back to campus. The food isn’t too shabby, either.

“Now, boy, back in the old days, that was a really skimpy dinner,” Shelley said. “Now, [former Ohio State tight end] Jeff Heuerman came back this year and went to family dinner with us on a Thursday night, [and] he’s like, ‘Wow, this is nothing like what we had.’ And he’s only been gone two years.

“We have great meals together. We talk to the players. Urban’s thing has always been that coaches really grind these guys so hard, they work so hard, and it’s just nice for the players to see them with their own children, with their wives, being dads, being husbands, being real people and not just these ogres that they are sometimes on the field.”

Soon there will be a new little boy on the sideline after practice, waiting for both his Buddy and his daddy.

That time almost arrived last week, before Nicki panicked about flu season and the crowd of people and delayed Troy’s first chance to take part in the kind of family-first setting that seems more important to the Meyers than ever before.

“I can’t wait for that,” Nicki said. “I know Corey can’t wait, either. He always mentions [defensive coordinator] Luke Fickell. Corey is just so sweet, and it gave me chills when he said: ‘I love seeing Coach Fickell run off and have all six of his kids running around. I just can’t wait to have one of my own run up to me after practice.’”

Corey Dennis might have to take a number, though.

“Buddy” Meyer has been known to skip to the front of the line.