Seven and Oh, and Everybody's Looking at Next Week
Cleveland State44
Texas Tech30
- Game
- 2028 Week 7
- Site
- Home
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 7-0
Vikings 44, Texas Tech 30, at home. Seven and oh. Matches last year’s start, folks, and there’s a feeling in this city I haven’t felt since I was a kid sitting on my father’s shoulders at the old stadium.
You can feel it at Big Stan’s. The counter council isn’t arguing anymore; they’re planning. Walt has drawn up a seating chart for the deli on national championship night, which nobody asked for, which is not a real thing yet, which I have politely asked him to put away. He put it in his breast pocket. I can see the corner sticking out every time he leans over his soup.
And the blank board. RESERVED. Stan dusts it every morning now. Chester stares at it during lunch. Yesterday Gerald, the ham man, asked what it was for, and the whole counter went silent, like he’d said a swear word in church. Stan said, “Gerald. Don’t.” Gerald didn’t.
I’m not saying anything. I’m a professional. Seven and oh. Next week, Ohio comes to Cleveland. I’m going to Sal’s on Monday, and I’m going to sit in that chair, and I’m not going to look at the pennant.
Four pierogi.
The Vikings beat Texas Tech by fourteen. The defense gave up thirty for the first time this season. That’s my obligatory concern, and I’ve expressed it.
I’ll be honest about what I’m actually thinking about, which is next week. Ohio. At home. The last two Ohio games in Cleveland, both losses, have been by twenty-five and by one point. Tim Slocombe’s Bobcats have a habit of walking into this building like it’s theirs, and they’re good again this year. Very good.
Teresa has started asking football questions. Not because she cares about football. She’s been clear that she does not. She asks because, as she puts it, “I’d like to know what’s going to happen to your face next Saturday.” This week she asked what Ohio was. I said, “A rival.” She said, “Like a nemesis?” I said, “Like weather.” She nodded and said, “I’ll make soup.”
She makes soup before games now. As preparation. She says it’s preventive care.
Back and forth
Seven and oh, Kenny.
Seven and oh. I’ve already started dreading Saturday.
Walt has a seating chart.
Tell Walt to burn it. Ohio can smell seating charts from Athens.
Seven and oh, a seating chart in a breast pocket, a board dusted daily, and preventive soup on the stove in Tremont.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.