Can I just let some feelings spill out before it’s too late at night? Genuinely. My adrenaline from last night is still keeping me in a perpetual state of elation, so I’ve got to act on it before the high is eventually replaced with another round of anticipation.
Alright, to put it simply, I can’t believe what I’ve seen this year from the Indiana Hoosiers football team. Those who know me personally are well aware, but for those who don’t know, I’m an IU alumni (Class of 2024, baby!), and I bore witness to some baaaad football in my time as a student—like, we didn’t even qualify for a bowl game bad, and you only have to win half of your games to qualify for one. It sucked. The stadium was always half empty, most people used game days as excuses to tailgate in the fields and get wasted like it was a huge frat party, and we had the dubious distinction of having the worst winning percentage in the entirety of Division I football. There was literally no indication that the program would ever reach any level of success beyond a wildly unlikely upset that all D1 teams seem to stumble into each decade, and we barely even have any of those in our ancient history!
But then, Curt Cignetti came to Bloomington last season—conveniently the season after I graduated, thanks guys—and we instantly started winning. An 11-2 season, the best offense we’d seen in our lives, and our first ever College Football playoff appearance. Even though we lost that final game, it didn’t matter. It was the pinnacle of our program’s success, and it was all so… sudden, like it shouldn’t have been happening this fast. Imagine your scrawny little brother suddenly transforming into a 6’5 busted man in the span of two months. Oh, and he’s anemic. And was bedridden for most of his life. It’s an impossible rise, one that feels more like a pipe dream than a real, tangible reality that you can cite when you’re old and wrinkly, grandkids gathering around the table asking you “What’s your favorite of IU football?” Oddly specific question my hypothetical grandchildren, but I’d be more than happy to answer.
Then, it got even better. 2025 rolls around and we’re initially ranked #20 in the nation as nobody really knows what to make of us. I mean, last year was the Cinderella story, and the clock already struck midnight on that dream. It couldn’t possibly happen again, not to a program like Indiana. Our all time bowl winning percentage is nearly below the god damn Mendoza line, and we’re not even playing BASEBALL. But then the wins kept piling on; a miracle in Iowa, quacking Oregon in their pond, doming Penn State in the inaptly named Happy Valley featuring one of the greatest catches of all time, slaying one of the winningest programs in the country—Ohio State—in the Big Ten Championship. We were suddenly the #1 seed, 13-0 for the first time ever, and, forgive me for sounding like a needle-gashed record, it still doesn’t feel real.
Will it ever? I don’t know. At the time of writing, we just thrashed Alabama in the Rose Bowl to advance to the Semis of the CFP for the first time all while becoming the first time with a first-round bye to advance, breaking what seems to be another one of the million damn curses that this team—which quite honestly might have the divine mandate the way they banished the Tide straight to hell—seems to have the power to vanquish. I was so, so nervous leading up to the game because it was yet another “biggest game in IU history” we’d have to play this season—which is it’s own separate OMG moment that I still can’t quite believe is possible.
It wasn’t even close. I very well nearly burst into tears watching Fernando Mendoza throw his millionth touchdown pass of the season and watching our run game completely shatter the slimmest iota of hope Alabama had for four straight quarters. Alabama is the third-winningest program in College Football history. We’re the second-losingest. It was like watching David kill Goliath with a nuke. What else can I even say?
But I’m not going to get complacent with just winning a playoff game. I believe they can win the whole damn thing. This team has taught me to believe, unapologetically, that they can do anything as long as they stick together and play fundamental, executional football—and with the way Coach Cig has been developing virtually unknown talent into unstoppable units, we’re gonna hear a lot more of those blunt, mischievous one-liners for the next eight years, whether the rest of the league likes it or not.
No matter what happens the rest of the season, I’m never going to forget how this team has made me feel: Excitement, anxious, and unbridled joy. I sometimes find myself staring at the final score of each game and think “Can someone drop the anvil on my head already?” Then I get all giddy and watch the Penn State catch a thousand times on repeat because that was the last moment I was daunted, and I vow to never, ever be again.
GO IU!!
Leave a Reply