One Game Into the Dolan Era, the Counter Council Has Already Voted
- Game
- 2024 Week 1
- Date
- 2024-08-02
- Site
- Away
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 1-0
Friends, I have waited thirty years to write this sentence: the Josh Dolan era is undefeated.
I watched it at Big Stan’s in Slavic Village, where the counter council (six retired steelworkers and one guy named Chester who just likes the soup) took a vote at halftime on whether this new coach is “the real thing.” It was six to one. Chester abstained. Chester always abstains.
Then our guys went down to New Orleans, on a sticky August night, and walked out with a 24-21 win over Tulane. Three points! That’s the width of a hot dog, folks. That’s the difference between a long bus ride and a singing one.
And when I got home to Old Brooklyn, there was a moving truck next door. A young family from Phoenix, the Reyeses. Their boy Leo is six. He saw my horned helmet on the porch and asked if I was a pirate. Leo, my son, you are about to learn so much.
Three pierogi. Jersey number thirty-one goes in the closet. Put it in the time capsule.
Respectfully, no.
We beat Tulane by a field goal. That’s not a coronation; it’s a coin flip that landed heads in humid weather.
I watched at the Lantern Room in Ohio City, where Nadia, the bartender, keeps a Miami (OH) RedHawks bobblehead next to the taps and greets every Vikings fan as “my little underdogs.” She asked how I felt. I said, “Cautious.” She poured me something called the Hopeful Lager. I sent it back.
The Doom Model, my projection spreadsheet, had this one as a loss. It’s a cautious instrument. One game is a sample size of one. One game is a rumor.
What I’ll grant: a team that closes out a three-point game on the road in August might, theoretically, close one out in November. Might.
A reader asked why I’m called “Lil.” A youth-league coach couldn’t pronounce “Kenneth.” It’s not interesting. Moving on.
Back and forth
Undefeated, Kenny. Say it with me.
One and oh. That’s a record, not a personality.
The counter council voted six to one!
Chester abstained. Chester’s the only one I trust.
One down, one new neighbor recruited, and Ken’s respect currently measured at three points and one returned lager.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.