49-21 in Athens, and the Tube Stays Rolled Up
Cleveland State49
Ohio21
- Game
- 2029 Week 9
- Site
- Away
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 8-1
VIKINGS 49, OHIO 21. IN ATHENS.
Twenty-eight points in Tim Slocombe’s building. That’s three straight trips to Athens, folks, and three straight wins: fifty-six in 2025, thirty-five to seven in 2027, and now forty-nine. Ohio beats us in Cleveland. We beat them in Athens. It’s the strangest rivalry in college football. It’s like two families who only argue at each other’s houses.
I sent Bridget the text. “sorry, kiddo.” She wrote back, and folks, this is the part I can’t stop thinking about. She wrote: “don’t be. see you in January.” That’s all. No “I hate you.” No “come to breakfast.” Just: see you in January. My daughter, who has worked in that athletic department for six years and knows things, wrote “January” like she was making an appointment.
Monday at Sal’s, the tube was still behind the register. Rolled up. Sealed. I looked at it. Sal looked at me looking at it. He said, “Not yet, Mick.” I said, “What’s not yet?” He said, “You’ll see,” and turned on the clippers before I could ask again.
Eight and one. Five pierogi. A little nervous.
The Vikings have now won three straight in Athens, all decisively. They’re eight and one. Ohio is having a great season, and the Vikings went into its stadium and beat it by four touchdowns. By every measure available to me, that’s a dominant result.
And yet. Bridget wrote “see you in January.” Sal says “not yet.” The Doom Model, whose “Ohio” tab I never created, has updated itself to read: “Again?” Just that. A question. I didn’t know spreadsheets could ask questions.
Here’s my honest read: the Vikings beat Ohio in the regular season every other year, and then Ohio finds them later, when it matters more. Last year the Vikings flipped that in the Big 12 title game. Ohio’s people remember. Everyone in Athens is acting like they know something, and I’ve learned to respect people who act like that, because they usually do.
Teresa’s pick this week was a choir record. Very solemn. I asked her why. She said, “You look like a man waiting for a verdict.” I am.
Back and forth
Three straight in Athens, Kenny!
And everyone in Athens is acting like they’ve read the last chapter.
Bridget said January.
She said it like an appointment. I’m writing it on my calendar in a color I won’t name.
Three straight wins in Athens, a pennant still sealed in its tube, and the word “January” sent from a press box like a reservation.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.