Tucson Again, Easier This Time
Cleveland State48
Arizona31
- Game
- 2027 Week 10
- Date
- 2027-11-14
- Site
- Away
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 9-1
Vikings 48, Arizona 31. In Tucson. Nine and one.
Last year we won here by one point and Big Stan lifted me off the ground. This year we won by seventeen and Big Stan just nodded at me across the deli and said, “Good.” Just “Good.” That’s how you know a program has grown up, folks: the miracles turn into expectations.
Speaking of growing up, my Lakers’ season ended Saturday morning. We finished four and four, which is our best record in six years, and Leo Reyes, cornerback, age nine, recorded what the league officially lists as his first tackle. I’m told it was more of a hug. The referee ruled it a tackle because “the kid committed.” Leo says he’s going to be a Viking. He’s doing push-ups every night. Jess says most of them are still lying down.
Nine and one. Two road games left, then home for Utah after Thanksgiving. I’m not saying the word “playoff” yet. I’m just saying it to myself, in the car, very quietly, with the windows up.
Four pierogi, and a participation trophy for the referee.
A seventeen-point road win in Tucson. A year ago it was one point. That’s how you can tell the difference between a team that’s lucky and a team that’s good: the same trip gets easier.
I’ll say the uncomfortable thing: this team is nine and one, it beat Ohio by four touchdowns in Athens, nobody has figured out how to stop its offense, and the only blemish is a Halloween disaster that, statistically, was weather. I’m running out of reasons. I’ve been running out of reasons for three years, and I keep finding more, but the pile is getting small.
Oklahoma State is next, on the road. The Doom Model flagged it with a small orange icon, which I believe is its way of saying “a mild concern.” The Doom Model has softened. It’s been spending time with me, and I’ve been spending time with Teresa, so I assume it’s secondhand.
“Lil,” for the reader who caught me at the wedding: a calligrapher’s error. I’ve since learned it was not an error.
Back and forth
Nine and one, Kenny!
Don’t say the P-word.
I didn’t say it. I thought it. In the car.
With the windows up? Good. That’s the responsible way.
Tucson made easy, Leo’s first official tackle (a hug, ruled committed), and one doubter’s pile of reasons getting very, very small.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.