The RedHawks Win the Big 12, and Ken Pours
Cleveland State42
Miami (OH)57
- Game
- 2034 Big 12 Championship
- Site
- Neutral site
- Result
- Loss
- Record
- 12-1
Miami (OH) 57, Vikings 42. For the Big 12 championship.
Fifteen points. Joe Snyderwine’s RedHawks are undefeated, Big 12 champions and, I’ll say it, the best offense I’ve ever seen on a football field. We scored forty-two and it wasn’t enough. That doesn’t happen to this team. It happened on Saturday.
But we’re in the playoff. Twelve and one gets you in, and this year, no bye. First round. A long road. We’ve walked it before, folks: in 2029 we lost the Big 12 title game to the RedHawks, played in the first round, and made it to the national championship game. So don’t count us out.
Donna sat with Nadia. Of course she did. At the end, Nadia cried. Happy tears. The RedHawks’ first Big 12 title in years. Donna put her arm around her. I watched them from the press box. Then Donna looked up at the press box, found me and waved. A small wave. Not a Vikings wave. A “this is okay, Michael” wave.
I believed her. It’s okay. It’s not good. It’s okay.
Zero pierogi. I’m allowed one anyway. Doctor’s orders. I gave it to Gerald.
A fifteen-point loss to undefeated Miami (OH) in the Big 12 championship game. Twelve and one.
The bet. On Tuesday I walked behind the bar at the Lantern Room, pulled Nadia a beer, set it in front of her and said, loud enough for the room: “Your team is better than mine.” It was the second time in ten years I’ve said it. The bar applauded. Nadia stood up, came around the bar and hugged me, which she has never done. Then she took the green ribbon out of my hand, tied it on the “WE’LL SEE” trophy, and said, “I’m keeping it this time, Ken. You’ll want it back.” I said, “I will.” She said, “Then come get it.”
The analysis: the RedHawks were better. Their offense is something I don’t have a statistical framework for. The Doom Model, asked to project them, returned an error I’ve never seen: “VALUE EXCEEDS FORMAT.” I’ve widened the column.
The Vikings play a first-round game. The bracket says Ohio, the five-time defending national champion, is on the same side. The RedHawks are on the other. I’ll say only this: everyone the Vikings want to beat is still in the tournament.
Back and forth
Donna waved at me. A “this is okay” wave.
I saw it. She was right. It’s okay.
Nadia hugged you?
First time in ten years. Then she took my ribbon. Both of those things happened in the same thirty seconds.
The RedHawks take the Big 12 undefeated, Ken pours for the second time in a decade and gets a hug for it, and a believer’s wife waves from the stands that it’s going to be okay.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.