A Wedding, a Kazoo and a 29-Point Win in Lubbock
Cleveland State42
Texas Tech13
- Game
- 2027 Week 6
- Date
- 2027-10-17
- Site
- Away
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 6-0
My daughter got married last Saturday, folks, and I’ll tell you everything, because this column is my diary and you’re all family.
Kate wore her grandmother’s veil. Sam cried before she even got down the aisle. Bridget drove up from Athens and gave a reading so beautiful that even the Ohio fans in the pews (Sal came, in a suit, which I’ve never seen) got misty. My toast had one football reference, I swear on the cape, and that reference was a sandwich, which Stan says doesn’t count.
And at the reception, after a few glasses of my brother-in-law’s homemade wine, I borrowed a kazoo from a ring bearer and played the Vikings fight song. Badly. The whole room sang along. Sam’s grandmother, who is from Toledo and has never watched a football game, sang along. Kate laughed so hard her veil fell off. It was the best moment of my life, and I’ve seen us win a Liberty Bowl.
Then a week later our guys went to Lubbock and won 42-13. Six and oh. Twenty-nine points of daylight. What a week, my people.
Five pierogi. One for the bride.
A twenty-nine-point road win in Lubbock. I’ve now watched the Vikings go from losing there by four in 2024, to winning by fourteen in 2026, to winning by twenty-nine this year. That’s a trend line so steep it needs a guardrail.
The wedding. I’ll be brief, because Mickey has said enough for both of us. Kate was beautiful. Sam was a mess. The kazoo was a war crime. And Teresa, who doesn’t care about football, sang the entire fight song along with everyone else, with the wrong words, at full volume. When I asked her how she knew the tune, she said, “Kenny, it’s been playing in your apartment every Saturday for a month.” I didn’t know I’d been playing it. Apparently I hum it.
At the reception, Mickey introduced me to his cousin Walt as “the guy who’s going to marry that nurse someday.” I choked on a pierogi. Teresa patted my back. Professionally.
My place card said “Lil Ken.” I don’t know who wrote it. Mickey denies it. Donna won’t make eye contact.
Back and forth
Best wedding ever, Kenny.
It was. The kazoo will haunt me, but it was.
Teresa sang the fight song!
Wrong words, full volume. I’ve never been prouder of anyone.
A daughter married, a kazoo fight song for the ages, a twenty-nine-point win in Lubbock, and a place card nobody will admit to writing.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.