Sorry, Dad: The Bobcats Came, Saw and Kept Scoring
Cleveland State24
Ohio49
- Game
- 2024 Week 9
- Date
- 2024-11-09
- Site
- Home
- Result
- Loss
- Record
- 5-4
I need to tell you about my phone at 7:14 p.m. Saturday.
It was a text from my youngest, Bridget, who works in the athletic communications office down at Ohio. She’s good at her job. She’s proud of her school. She loves her father. The text said: “sorry, Dad.” With a little green heart.
Ohio 49, Vikings 24. In our own building. Tim Slocombe’s Bobcats came up the road and played like a team that had been waiting all year to ruin my Saturday, and they ruined it thoroughly, with excellent fundamentals and my own daughter working the press box.
We’re 5-4. And here’s where I’ll be the believer you pay me to be: this was the first time the Dolan Vikings and the Slocombe Bobcats met in this new chapter, and every great rivalry starts with somebody being the “before” picture. This year, it was us. The “after” picture is going to be glorious.
Monday I go to Sal’s. Sal has a pennant. I already know which way it’s facing.
Zero pierogi. I wrote back “proud of you, kiddo.” Then I lay down on the kitchen floor for a while.
There are losses, there are lessons, and then there’s whatever that was.
A twenty-five-point loss at home to Ohio. The Bobcats are living rent-free in my spreadsheet, and I’m not even mad, which is the scary part. They’re organized. They looked like a program that knows exactly who it is, and the Vikings looked like a program still introducing itself.
I called my father Sunday. It was one of the clearer days. He said, “Ohio’s always tough, Kenny.” I said, “Not always, Dad.” He said, “Always,” with the certainty of a man who has watched a lot of football in Ohio. I didn’t argue. You don’t argue with the good days.
This is how it starts, by the way. A hot start, a few close wins, and then a disciplined rival walks in and reminds everyone of the order of things.
The Doom Model called this one by a lot. I’m not celebrating. I’m updating the spreadsheet with appropriate solemnity.
Back and forth
Every rivalry starts with a loss, Kenny.
Most rivalries start with a game. This was a seminar.
My own daughter, Kenny. In the press box.
Call her. Tell her you’re proud. Then never speak of this again.
Ohio taught the class, the Vikings took notes, and Mickey’s daughter is now, officially, the enemy he’d give his life for.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.