Ken Comes Back Tan, and the Sun Devils Make It Ten Straight
Cleveland State45
Arizona State24
- Game
- 2036 Week 7
- Site
- Home
- Result
- Win
- Record
- 7-0
Vikings 45, Arizona State 24, at home. Seven and oh.
Twenty-one points of daylight, our tenth straight win over the Sun Devils. Every year since 2027. Ten years. I’m going to stop counting. I’m not going to stop counting.
And Kenny’s back. Tan. Folks, Ken Hogmanes walked into the press box on Saturday with a tan. A real one. On his face. His forehead was a different color from the rest of him where the sun hat stopped. He looked like a two-tone Buick. I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him. He said, “Don’t.” I said, “I didn’t say anything.” He said, “Your face said something.” I said, “My face is just happy to see you.”
He brought me a present: a little bottle of sand from the beach, with a cork in it and a label in Teresa’s handwriting that says “For Mickey, who held down the fort.” It’s on my desk. Next to the nail from Sal. Next to Leo’s scouting report. Next to Chester’s card. My desk is a museum now. Donna says I need a bigger desk. Sam’s measuring.
Four pierogi. One on the plate.
A twenty-one-point home win over Arizona State. Seven and oh. And I’m back.
I’d like to make a statement about the vacation. I was on a beach for six days. I read two books. I swam. I wore a hat that made me look like a botanist. I checked the score of the Arizona game once, on a phone I borrowed from a bartender named Luis, who was very kind and asked who I was texting. I said, “A man in Cleveland who’s going to put this in the newspaper.” Luis said, “Then text him something nice.” I didn’t. I texted “Is the defense holding?” Teresa found me ninety seconds later. Luis pointed. I don’t hold it against him.
Here’s the statement: it was the best week I’ve had in years. I’m told that’s “the point.” I’ve accepted the point.
The Doom Model, while I was away, did something it’s never done. It didn’t update. It just sat there for six days with no new inputs. When I opened it on Tuesday, it had a new cell, highlighted, in a cheerful yellow: “Welcome back.” I didn’t program that. I asked Teresa if she’d touched my laptop. She said, “It was in the freezer, Kenny.” That’s true. I have no explanation. I’m choosing not to need one.
Back and forth
A two-tone Buick, Kenny.
I’m aware. The forehead line will fade. The memories won’t.
The Doom Model said “Welcome back”?
In yellow. I have no explanation. I’ve stopped needing explanations. That’s the vacation talking. I hope it keeps talking.
Ten straight over the Sun Devils, a doubter home from the beach with a tan line and a bottle of sand, and a spreadsheet that welcomed him back in yellow without being asked.
Split Decision is fiction. Mickey Bridges, Ken Hogmanes and The Lakefront Ledger are invented; the games and scores are not.