Sixty-Nine to Three, and the Long Road Starts Again
Cleveland State69
TCU3
- Game
- 2035 CFP First Round
- Site
- Neutral site
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 12-1
VIKINGS 69, TCU 3. FIRST-ROUND PLAYOFF WIN.
Sixty-six points of daylight in the first round. Folks, TCU is a good team. They came in with a good record and a good coach, and our guys just didn’t let them have the ball in any way that mattered. Our second meeting with the Horned Frogs. Our second win.
Twelve and one. No bye this year, again. Four games to the title if we can win them all. Last year we walked the same road and fell one game short, against the same RedHawks who beat us last week. Kenny says I’m not allowed to look past the quarterfinal. I’m not looking past it. I’m just looking around it.
Big Stan opened the deli for a playoff breakfast again. The Iowa, breakfast edition, plus a new addition: The Mickey salad, served with a fried egg, “for strength.” I had one bite of each. Chester saved me a second bite of The Iowa, like last year. He’s made it a tradition. He hasn’t said so. He just does it.
Leo’s high school season ended in the state semifinal. He played his last snap, broke up a pass, and then walked to the sideline and hugged Sofia, who’d come down from the press box. Marco sent me the video. You know who cried.
Five pierogi.
A sixty-six-point first-round win over TCU. Twelve and one. The Vikings play Texas A&M in the quarterfinal.
This is the second straight year the Vikings have entered the playoff without a bye after losing to Miami (OH). Last year, they won three straight games and lost the national championship game to the RedHawks. I’ve learned not to project. But I’ll observe that the bracket, once again, puts Ohio and Miami (OH) in the Vikings’ path, one after the other, if everyone keeps winning.
Mickey and I talked about the counting this week. On the drive back from the stadium, he said, “Kenny, after this season, I’m going to decide.” I said, “Decide what?” He said, “The number.” I didn’t say anything. He didn’t either. We drove for a while. Then he said, “Whatever happens, I want to finish this one.” I said, “We’ll finish it.”
My father, Sunday: he was awake. He said, “Is it the playoffs?” I said yes. He said, “Win the fights, Kenny.” He said that in 2029. He doesn’t remember. It doesn’t matter. Notebook: “Win the fights.”
Back and forth
Chester saved me a bite again.
Tradition. He’ll never say so. He’ll just keep doing it.
I want to finish this one.
We’ll finish it. Then you’ll decide. Then I’ll help with whatever you decide.
Sixty-nine to three to start the long road again, Chester’s second bite becoming tradition, and a believer saying on the drive home that after this season he’ll decide the number.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.