38-37: Ohio Finally Loses in Cleveland, and Mickey Says He's Done
Cleveland State38
Ohio37
- Game
- 2030 Week 9
- Site
- Home
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 9-0
VIKINGS 38, OHIO 37. IN CLEVELAND. AT HOME. FINALLY.
One point. ONE POINT. Four tries, folks. 2024, 2026, 2028: Ohio came to our building and won all three, and the last two were by one point and three points, and I wrote about them with my heart in my hands. And on Saturday, the defending national champions came to Cleveland undefeated, and our guys beat them by one. One! The exact margin they beat us by in 2026! Handed right back!
I don’t remember the last minute. Donna says I sat down on the bleacher and put my face in my hands and stayed that way until a stranger in a Vikings beanie, the same one who called me “Pop” two years ago, patted me on the back and said, “Pop. Pop, it’s over. We won.” I looked up and the whole stadium was singing.
And here’s the news, my people, and I mean it: I’m retiring. Not today. At the end of the season. I’ve seen everything now. A national title. Ohio beaten in Cleveland. What else is there? I told Donna Saturday night. She said, “Okay, Michael.” I said, “I mean it.” She said, “I know you do.” Then she went to bed smiling, which I didn’t like.
Bridget texted at midnight: “congrats, dad. that one was for you.”
Five pierogi. A retirement pierogi.
One point. In Cleveland. The Vikings have finally beaten Ohio at home.
I’ll report it straight: nine and oh, the defending national champion beaten in a game that was as close and as good as a regular-season game gets. Tim Slocombe’s team was excellent. The Vikings were one point better. That’s all a rivalry asks of you.
Now, the other news. Mickey has announced his retirement. He announced it to me on the phone at 1 a.m., then to the counter council, then to Sal (who said “sure, Mick”), then to Leo Reyes (who said “can I have your whistle”), and now to you. I’ve known Mickey since 2014. He’s announced his retirement, by my count, never. This is the first time. He says he means it. I believe he believes it.
I called my father Sunday. He’d been told the score by my mother and had written it on a napkin. He read it to me: “Thirty-eight, thirty-seven.” Then he said, “Ohio’s always tough, Kenny. But not today.” He’d added a line. After all these years.
Back and forth
I’m retiring, Kenny. I mean it.
I heard you. So did Sal, the counter and a twelve-year-old who wants your whistle.
Your dad added a line!
“But not today.” I’m going to frame the napkin. My mother’s mailing it.
Ohio finally beaten in Cleveland by a single point, a believer’s first retirement announcement, and a napkin in Sarasota with a brand-new line written on it.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.