Kent State, Ken's Alma Mater, Gets the Bad News in Person
Cleveland State56
Kent State19
- Game
- 2028 Week 2
- Site
- Away
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 2-0
Vikings 56, Kent State 19, in Kent. Two and oh!
Last year Kent State gave us all we could handle at our place, a five-point game. This year we went down Route 43 to their house and won by thirty-seven. That’s what happens when a team grows up, folks. The tough neighbor becomes a Saturday afternoon.
And I have to tell you about Kenny in the press box, because Kent State is his alma mater. He wore a gray sweater. Neutral. Very diplomatic. But I saw him, in the third quarter, lean over and very quietly apologize to the Kent State sports information director. “Sorry, Phil.” Phil said, “Don’t be.” Kenny said, “I’m not, really.” That’s growth, my people.
My Lakers had their first game Saturday morning too. Leo Reyes is ten now, a real cornerback on a real ten-and-eleven team, and on the first play of the game he ran full speed toward the ball carrier yelling “I GOT HIM,” and folks, this time he got him. A clean tackle. The whole parish sideline went crazy. Leo turned around and pointed at me like a pro. I had to sit down on the cooler.
Four pierogi. One for Phil.
The Vikings beat my alma mater by thirty-seven points, and I’d like to formally apologize to Kent, Ohio, a lovely town with a nice river, a good bookstore and a football team that did nothing to deserve that.
I did apologize to Phil. Phil’s been the sports information director there for twenty years and has never once been rude to me, which in this business is a kind of sainthood. I owe him a sandwich. Maybe a Jamie Cleveland. He’ll need two plates.
The analysis: two and oh, a road win against a rival, a team that’s taken last year’s close calls and turned them into blowouts. The offense put up fifty-six and looked bored. I don’t trust bored. Bored is how you lose in October.
Teresa asked me Sunday morning if I ever root against my alma mater. I said, “Only when they play Cleveland State.” She said, “So always?” I said, “Only twice a decade.” She said, “That’s the most you’ve ever admitted to rooting for anything.” She’s been keeping score. Somebody in this relationship has to.
Back and forth
You apologized to Phil, Kenny.
Phil’s a good man. He deserved better than fifty-six.
Leo made a real tackle!
I heard. Tell him the Doom Model is watching him. He’ll understand.
A thirty-seven-point road win down Route 43, one apology to Phil, and Leo Reyes officially, finally, got him.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.