Sixty-Seven to Fifty-Nine, and Donna Leaves the Cape at Home
Cleveland State67
Miami (OH)59
- Game
- 2032 Week 11
- Site
- Home
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 10-1
VIKINGS 67, MIAMI (OH) 59. AT HOME.
One week after the worst day of the Dolan era, our guys came home and won a shootout. A hundred and twenty-six points between the two teams. I didn’t sit down once. Neither did anyone in the stadium. Ten and one, folks, and we’re still alive for the Big 12 title game.
Now, Donna. You’ll remember that the cape, the green felt cape the Reyes kids made in 2025, has never lost to the RedHawks away from home. The one time she wore it here, in 2029, we lost by twenty-two. She said, “Michael, I think it only works on the road.”
So this year, she didn’t wear it. She left it folded on the dining room table. She wore a plain green sweater. And she sat next to me and held my hand for the whole fourth quarter and said, at the final whistle, “See? It’s not the cape, Michael. It’s me.” I said, “Then why did you bring the cape all these years?” She said, “Because you needed a reason to believe in something you could see.”
Nadia texted Donna after: “Your husband’s team is better than mine. Tell Ken I’ll pour.” Eight times in nine years.
Five pierogi.
An eight-point home win over Miami (OH), in a game that never felt safe for a single possession. Ten and one. The Vikings responded to a forty-two-point loss with the highest-scoring game of the rivalry since 84-70 in 2028.
The bet. Nadia poured. Eight times in nine years. She said the line. Then she said, “And tell Donna she was right about the cape.” I don’t know what that means. I’ve learned not to ask about cape business.
After Athens I want to note what this team did. A lot of teams, after losing by forty-two to their rival, fold. They start looking at their phones. They start thinking about the draft. This team came home and won a sixty-seven to fifty-nine game against a rival. That’s character. That’s a senior quarterback, Greg Price, who sat on a bench for a year and knows what a bad week is.
My father, Sunday, good day: “Did we bounce back?” I said, “We did, Dad.” He said, “That’s the only stat I ever cared about.” He was a machinist for forty years. He knows about bouncing back.
Back and forth
Donna says it’s not the cape. It’s her.
I’ve always suspected. The cape was a placebo with excellent stitching.
Your dad said bouncing back is the only stat.
He’s right. He’s been right about the important ones for eighty years.
A sixty-seven to fifty-nine bounce-back one week after the worst day, a cape left folded on a dining room table, and Donna revealing the secret was her all along.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.