46-45. That's It. That's the Headline.
Cleveland State46
Miami (OH)45
- Game
- 2024 Week 12
- Date
- 2024-11-30
- Site
- Away
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 8-4
I’m typing this with one hand, because the other is still holding a towel I waved for four straight quarters.
VIKINGS 46, MIAMI (OH) 45. In Oxford. On the road. The Saturday after Thanksgiving, against Joe Snyderwine’s RedHawks, who score points the way I eat leftover stuffing: constantly, and with no plan to stop.
Thanksgiving was at our house. Bridget drove up from Athens, still wearing a green lanyard she swears she forgot about. Kate came with her boyfriend. And Kenny came, like he does most years, and sat at the end of the table and told Donna her pierogi were “statistically excellent,” which is the warmest thing he’s ever said to a human being.
Then Donna, who has been to four games in thirty-one years of marriage, said, “I’m coming to Oxford.” And she did. She stood for the final play, gripped my arm and said, “Michael, I think I understand now.” I wept, folks. Openly. In a parking garage.
One point. We’re 8-4. Five pierogi. The full Index. Bury the time capsule under the lake.
Ninety-one points in one game. I’ve reviewed the arithmetic and, regrettably, it’s correct.
One-point wins make me honest, the way cold water makes you awake: I yelled. In the press box. Out loud. A colleague from Dayton looked at me as if I’d been replaced by a pod person.
The analysis is short: the Vikings went on the road against an offense that can score on anybody and outscored it. That’s not a fluke; that’s an offense that can trade blows and a team with the nerve to take the last punch.
Postscript for the Lantern Room: Nadia and I had a standing bet on this game. The loser pours the other a drink and says, out loud, “Your team is better than mine.” Monday night I’ll be collecting. I’ll be gracious. I’ll be so gracious.
“Lil”? I’ll explain another week. I’m currently climbing out a window for unrelated reasons.
Back and forth
Kenny. You yelled.
I cleared my throat loudly. It’s a medical condition.
Donna understands football now!
Then she’s ahead of the Doom Model, which has filed a formal complaint.
One point, five pierogi, one converted wife, one bet to collect from Nadia, and a doubter who will deny yelling until the end of time.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.