Six and Oh in the Cornfields, and the Lunch Table Is Losing Its Mind
Cleveland State24
Iowa State20
- Game
- 2025 Week 6
- Date
- 2025-10-18
- Site
- Away
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 6-0
Vikings 24, Iowa State 20. In Ames. Four points. Six and oh.
I drove out with two fellas from the counter council, Walt and Chester, which means I drove nine hours with a man who abstains from all conversation and a man who wanted to discuss the 1986 steel strike, in detail, through Indiana. Somewhere outside Davenport, Chester said his first full sentence of the year: “I think this team is the one, Mick.” I nearly drove into a cornfield.
And then the Vikings went into a tough building, against a tough team, and won a four-point game that felt like twelve rounds. Iowa State wanted it. Our guys wanted it more. And when it got close, the young quarterback didn’t blink.
Six and oh, folks. I haven’t been six and oh in my life. I’ve been six and oh on the Lakers. That’s different. That’s ten-year-olds.
Four pierogi. We stopped at a gas station on the way home and I bought Chester a corn dog to commemorate his sentence.
Four points in Ames. The kind of win that looks good in the standings and terrible on my blood pressure cuff.
Lunch at Big Stan’s this week was chaos. The counter council has started speaking in “if”s. “If we win at Colorado.” “If we run the table.” Big Stan has written a draft sandwich name on a napkin and taped it under the register “for when we go undefeated.” I’ve seen it. I’m not going to repeat it. It’s very confident and includes a word I’d prefer not to put in print.
I’ll say this: a team that wins one-score road games isn’t lucky, it’s practiced. The Vikings did it all last year and are doing it again. That’s a real trait.
But I’ve been here before. Not with this team; with this feeling. The undefeated October feeling. My grandfather used to say “never trust a lead,” and I’ve always thought six and oh is the biggest lead there is.
Colorado’s next, at altitude. We lost there last year by three. I’ve marked my calendar in red.
Back and forth
Chester said a sentence, Kenny. A whole sentence.
That’s the scariest omen in this whole thing.
Six and oh!
Six and oh is a lead. And you know what Pops said about leads.
Six and oh in the cornfields, Chester has spoken, and Big Stan has a napkin under the register that Ken is legally prevented from describing.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.