One of the most disorienting aspects of this pandemic-plagued college football season is the absence of gameday rituals, particularly the comradery and emotion of sharing either a Hawkeye victory or defeat with friends and fellow fans.
The college game is special because of that deep bond between fans and their favorite programs, an affinity that is so deep that even as players, coaches and society itself change, the rituals and shared experience of loyal fans seldom does.
It’s weird to watch a game with swaths of empty bleachers providing the backdrop instead of tens of thousands of black-and-gold clad fanatics. It’s lonely to pour a beer down in your basement in front of the TV instead of packing shoulder to shoulder in a raucous tailgating lot. It’s a bit melancholy to hear “In Heaven There is No Beer” blasted across Kinnick for the enjoyment of only a huddled knot of players’ family rather than a 70,000 throng.
Don’t get me wrong – having even a subdued version of Iowa football is far better than an autumn totally devoid of Hawkeye games. But one must admit, some of the excitement is lost in the absence of the pageantry and tradition that are a big part of the fabric of the game.
Prior to the pandemic, a few of us were hoping to road trip up to the Twin Cities for the Friday night game against the Gophers. The plan was to take the day off, get up early and tailgate, see Iowa grab the pig, then party into the night, with the rest of the weekend left to recover and enjoy some big city amenities. But then, 2020.
Rather than cry into our Surly Furious, however, five of us decided to embrace the suck by still getting together for brews and the Floyd game, albeit over Zoom.
Bladel checked in from Arizona. Flick from behind the Red Curtain in Omaha. My buddy K-dog logged in from Rock Island, and Attorney Tim and I from our homes in the Dirty D. It wasn’t as satisfying as gathering in Dinkytown as invading Iowegians, but at least there was comradery.
As anyone who has worked remotely this past year can guess, there were technical problems off the bat. Poor Tim had to hear us cheer and wonder what happened as his crappy internet service meant a 10 second delay between what we were seeing and what flashed on his screen. And of course, when we tried to fix the problem by synchronizing our DVRs, user error (fueled no doubt by alcohol consumption) only managed to make the problem worse, with all five of us now watching the game on a different space-time continuum. But even if delayed, our group celebration of Nico Ragaini’s jet sweep touchdown run was relatively raucous.
As Tyler Goodson put the team on his back (or more precisely, his churning legs) it soon became clear that the Gophers were no match for this year’s Hawkeye team. Although the Hawks only managed to lead 14-0 at halftime and young quarterback Spencer Petras struggled at times, our group never really felt the game was in doubt.
This led to some interesting conversations.
After Tory Taylor pinned Minnesota inside its 10 yard line with another of his stellar kicks, I speculated that a 21-year-old Australian freshman football player with a killer accent was probably running through ladies in Iowa City like an All Big 10 running back taking on the Nebraska rush defense. Bladel of course said that would be wildly irresponsible amid raging COVID cases. And of course, he was right, as usual - but still a Buzz Killington.
When one of us noted that Riley Moss is a heck of a lockdown corner, Flick - ever the Hawkeye historian - gave us a treatise on all the outstanding homegrown secondary players Iowa has featured in the Ferentz era, reaching back to Derek Pagel and beyond.
As Zach VanValkenburg notched his third sack – the climax of a super disruptive night from his defensive end spot – my suggested new nickname of The Flying Dutchman finally stuck with the rest of the guys. Feel free to use it.
By the end of the fourth quarter the outcome was clearly decided, and our attention spans wandered so much that none of us realized Kirk Ferentz was dragging PJ with his multiple timeouts. We were mostly just confused. I blame the beer.
I can’t say watching the Pig Game over Zoom was a bucket list item, or even as good as a random non-conference game against a MAC team in early September from my seats in Kinnick, to be honest. But it did provide connection and a three-hour respite from worry and anxiety.
As our corner of the world continues to grapple with disease, lock downs and economic uncertainty, finding these small moments of connectivity and shared passion are more important than ever for our shared sanity.
I wish all my fellow Hawkeye fans continued good health and the ability to watch their favorite team, even in unusual circumstances. Stay safe. Be smart. And GO HAWKS!
Follow me on Twitter @ToryBrecht and @12Saturdays
