- Sep 13, 2002
- 93,959
- 189,891
- 113
That is the fundamental theme of this week's post-B1G Championship beat down TwT:
Tory Brecht
Columnist
The day dawned gray and dreary in Indianapolis Sunday, a cold rain splattering upon dejected Iowa fans loading up their cars and RVs for a damp and depressing funeral procession back across Illinois on Interstate 74.
24 hours earlier, despite knowing their team was a decided underdog, spirits were high among the black and gold faithful. Faithful being the key word, as hindsight proves a miracle was needed for this flawed-but-game Hawkeye squad to stand a chance against a Michigan juggernaut firing on all cylinders.
I was there with my old college roommate and longtime Kinnick seatmate. Pre-gaming was fun, and when Iowa stopped Big Blue cold for an opening three-and-out and proceeded to march right down field into the red zone, it felt for a moment as if faith would be rewarded. Alas, a trick play gone awry and an uncharacteristic missed chip shot field goal later, you could almost feel Hawkeye hopes exhale in a sigh. I’m not saying Iowa would have won if a touchdown was punched in on the first drive, but I truly believe the subsequent blowout would have been avoided.
Once again, Iowa failed on the big stage. Once again, Iowa was just good enough to be the supporting actor in another program’s magical season. Once again, Iowa fans had to ponder the existential question of whether it really is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
Personally, I feel like the collective rage and frustration Iowa fans have been spewing across multiple social media platforms the past 48-plus hours is misguided, needlessly hyperbolic and reveals a disturbing level of ingratitude for two decades of work this coaching staff has put in to make Iowa at least a championship contender. That said, I understand it.
I was at the 2003 Orange Bowl, which much like Saturday’s Big 10 Championship went from elation at the opening kickoff touchdown to disappointment in a blowout loss. I watched the 2009 dream season come to a frustrating end first with Ricky Stanzi’s injury in a loss to Northwestern and then a dispiriting overtime collapse in Columbus in another “close, but no cigar” shot at a conference title. I was in attendance the last time Iowa was in Indianapolis, where a heroic effort wasn’t enough to stop a fourth down goal line plunge that once again made another fan base ecstatic at the expense of Hawkeye tears. And I hadn’t even gotten to my damn seats at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena before Christian McAffrey scored on a game-opening 75-yard touchdown pass in what was another Iowa beat-down.
Losing sucks. Losing big games that would announce to the world that your favorite team can compete with the blue bloods sucks even more. Doing so time and time and time again is immensely frustrating.
But it is also illuminating.
Iowa isn’t a blue blood. Iowa doesn’t have the deep pockets, recruiting cachet or perennial prestige of the programs it runs into at this level. So for Iowa to win these kinds of games, it is going to take a combination of peaking at the right time along with a whole heap of luck.
That’s just the reality, and it isn’t that way for only Iowa. Since the East and West divisions were formed in the Big 10 in 2014, the West division champ is a dismal 0-7 in the championship. The East teams have outscored the West in those seven games by 283 to 123; an average score of 40 to 17.
I derive no joy in breaking down those numbers nor am I saying we (Iowa fans, the rest of the Big 10 West fans) shouldn’t be frustrated and upset by it. But we really shouldn’t be surprised.
The perspective I try to keep is that most of us felt 2021 was going to be a rebuilding year. Iowa fan consensus pre-season was a somewhat optimistic 8 or 9-win season and hopefully at least competing for a division title. Based on those metrics, Iowa not only achieved expectations, it outpaced them.
Does that make the drubbing dished out by the Wolverines less painful? Not to me. But it does lend at least a little perspective.
Of course the source of most of the griping from fans is Iowa’s anemic offense, which is a more-than-fair target of criticism. Frankly, I think it’s a minor miracle Iowa won the 10 games it did with one of the three critical phases of football basically MIA all season.
While I share in the frustration at an offense gone AWOL, I am not as convinced as what appears to be the majority of Iowa fans that the blame all lies with the offensive coordinator and quarterbacks. While neither Brian Ferentz or either quarterback excelled this season, the biggest issue holding Iowa’s offense back was, is and continues to be poor offensive line play. Saturday, the pass protection was marginally improved, but on running plays, the Iowa offensive line was absolutely destroyed, pushed back and blown up time after time after time. If you can tell me what magical plays an offensive coordinator can call that don’t require adequate blocking, I’m all ears. I don’t think they exist.
If fans get their wish and Brian is either demoted or booted (fat chance of either, but hey, the torch and pitchfork crowd sometimes gets its way) I really don’t see how a new person calling plays is going to fix the glaring deficiency of bad blocking. At every level of football, no blocking is no bueno, and that is particularly true for a program like Iowa that seeks to be complementary.
I know the general mood around Hawkeye nation is justifiably sour after a massive letdown in front of a national audience. I listened to sad songs on the depressing drive home Sunday.
But the sun still came up Monday morning. I expect the 2022 Iowa Hawkeye football team to be one of the favorites for the West division yet again. And I will be back in Indy again if that happens.
One of these days, it has to be our turn, right?
Besides, it could be worse. We could be Nebraska.
Tuesdays with Torbee
Tory Brecht
Columnist
The day dawned gray and dreary in Indianapolis Sunday, a cold rain splattering upon dejected Iowa fans loading up their cars and RVs for a damp and depressing funeral procession back across Illinois on Interstate 74.
24 hours earlier, despite knowing their team was a decided underdog, spirits were high among the black and gold faithful. Faithful being the key word, as hindsight proves a miracle was needed for this flawed-but-game Hawkeye squad to stand a chance against a Michigan juggernaut firing on all cylinders.
I was there with my old college roommate and longtime Kinnick seatmate. Pre-gaming was fun, and when Iowa stopped Big Blue cold for an opening three-and-out and proceeded to march right down field into the red zone, it felt for a moment as if faith would be rewarded. Alas, a trick play gone awry and an uncharacteristic missed chip shot field goal later, you could almost feel Hawkeye hopes exhale in a sigh. I’m not saying Iowa would have won if a touchdown was punched in on the first drive, but I truly believe the subsequent blowout would have been avoided.
Once again, Iowa failed on the big stage. Once again, Iowa was just good enough to be the supporting actor in another program’s magical season. Once again, Iowa fans had to ponder the existential question of whether it really is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
Personally, I feel like the collective rage and frustration Iowa fans have been spewing across multiple social media platforms the past 48-plus hours is misguided, needlessly hyperbolic and reveals a disturbing level of ingratitude for two decades of work this coaching staff has put in to make Iowa at least a championship contender. That said, I understand it.
I was at the 2003 Orange Bowl, which much like Saturday’s Big 10 Championship went from elation at the opening kickoff touchdown to disappointment in a blowout loss. I watched the 2009 dream season come to a frustrating end first with Ricky Stanzi’s injury in a loss to Northwestern and then a dispiriting overtime collapse in Columbus in another “close, but no cigar” shot at a conference title. I was in attendance the last time Iowa was in Indianapolis, where a heroic effort wasn’t enough to stop a fourth down goal line plunge that once again made another fan base ecstatic at the expense of Hawkeye tears. And I hadn’t even gotten to my damn seats at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena before Christian McAffrey scored on a game-opening 75-yard touchdown pass in what was another Iowa beat-down.
Losing sucks. Losing big games that would announce to the world that your favorite team can compete with the blue bloods sucks even more. Doing so time and time and time again is immensely frustrating.
But it is also illuminating.
Iowa isn’t a blue blood. Iowa doesn’t have the deep pockets, recruiting cachet or perennial prestige of the programs it runs into at this level. So for Iowa to win these kinds of games, it is going to take a combination of peaking at the right time along with a whole heap of luck.
That’s just the reality, and it isn’t that way for only Iowa. Since the East and West divisions were formed in the Big 10 in 2014, the West division champ is a dismal 0-7 in the championship. The East teams have outscored the West in those seven games by 283 to 123; an average score of 40 to 17.
I derive no joy in breaking down those numbers nor am I saying we (Iowa fans, the rest of the Big 10 West fans) shouldn’t be frustrated and upset by it. But we really shouldn’t be surprised.
The perspective I try to keep is that most of us felt 2021 was going to be a rebuilding year. Iowa fan consensus pre-season was a somewhat optimistic 8 or 9-win season and hopefully at least competing for a division title. Based on those metrics, Iowa not only achieved expectations, it outpaced them.
Does that make the drubbing dished out by the Wolverines less painful? Not to me. But it does lend at least a little perspective.
Of course the source of most of the griping from fans is Iowa’s anemic offense, which is a more-than-fair target of criticism. Frankly, I think it’s a minor miracle Iowa won the 10 games it did with one of the three critical phases of football basically MIA all season.
While I share in the frustration at an offense gone AWOL, I am not as convinced as what appears to be the majority of Iowa fans that the blame all lies with the offensive coordinator and quarterbacks. While neither Brian Ferentz or either quarterback excelled this season, the biggest issue holding Iowa’s offense back was, is and continues to be poor offensive line play. Saturday, the pass protection was marginally improved, but on running plays, the Iowa offensive line was absolutely destroyed, pushed back and blown up time after time after time. If you can tell me what magical plays an offensive coordinator can call that don’t require adequate blocking, I’m all ears. I don’t think they exist.
If fans get their wish and Brian is either demoted or booted (fat chance of either, but hey, the torch and pitchfork crowd sometimes gets its way) I really don’t see how a new person calling plays is going to fix the glaring deficiency of bad blocking. At every level of football, no blocking is no bueno, and that is particularly true for a program like Iowa that seeks to be complementary.
I know the general mood around Hawkeye nation is justifiably sour after a massive letdown in front of a national audience. I listened to sad songs on the depressing drive home Sunday.
But the sun still came up Monday morning. I expect the 2022 Iowa Hawkeye football team to be one of the favorites for the West division yet again. And I will be back in Indy again if that happens.
One of these days, it has to be our turn, right?
Besides, it could be worse. We could be Nebraska.
