The Drop, Week 8: The More Things Change ...

 

"Y'all, I swear I tried to come up with a different number, but based on my belief that any Iowa team will win one game it shouldn't and lose one game it shouldn't, I come up with ... 8-4." me, in my Iowa season preview.

I spent this past Saturday watching Illinois/Oregon in person (the above picture is mine) and didn't see a single snap of Iowa/Minnesota. So I don't know if that was the one game Iowa lost that it shouldn't have. All I know is that, of the teams in the back half of Iowa's schedule, Minnesota certainly appeared to have the best defense. I remain distinctly unimpressed by Minnesota's offense, which doesn't seem any better than Iowa's, another offense I am distinctly unimpressed with.

You know who I did find impressive this weekend? Illinois. I'll grant that tis woebegone Oregon Ducks team is this year's clear "top 5 team that never should have been ranked at all" and has had horrible injury luck but the Illini didn't quit at Bret Bielema clearly outcoached Dan Lanning. I mean, sure, Oregon isn't going to miss three field goals in every game, but the Illini were platooning two quarterbacks to replace the injured Katin Houser, one of whom was an 18 year old true freshman. And they won 21-10, largely because of an excellent defensive performance. So if you had Bret Bielema on your hot seat list, take him off.

You can take Luke Fickell off too, for obvious reasons.

The Sweep, Week 8: The News From Lake WoB1Gon

Well, it's been a quiet week in Lake WoBIGon, my hometown, where the first cold front of the fall, the one that really makes a person stand up and take notice, swept through and dusted almost all of the leaves off the trees, so that now when a person walks through the grass, they have to look around for the Rice Krispies they keep hearing.

Over at the Sons of Knute lodge, however, there was a bit of excitement when a letter arrived from Bergen, Norway, of all places. It was a quaint, European letter with a genuine Norwegian frimerke, a very nice one with a snowy owl in winter. Wally Knudsen, the current president of the lodge, opened it and just about fell out of his chair.

The lodge had applied a few years previous to participate in a Young Persons Exchange wherein a person of Norwegian heritage in his or her early twenties who lived in Lake WoB1Gon would travel to Norway for a month, and a Norwegian would come to Lake WoB1Gon, so both cultures could learn about one another, and both of the young people would go back home wiser and more worldly.

The lodge had sent Dylan Haavik to Lillehammer and he had come back no wiser than when he left because he spent his month on top of a 19-year-old redhead named Berit whom he met on the bus form the Oslo airport, except that he had learned some Norwegian phrases no one's great-grandmother would have taught to the barnebarn, on the off chance that she even knew them, which is unlikely since they didn't have webcams or remote control sex toys in the 1880s. 

But no Norwegian had ever come to Lake WoB1Gon, for the most prosaic reason that it simply did not show up on any maps available to the Nordmenn. They were not about to send one of their young people to a place that might not, technically speaking, exist. Losing someone else's child in a foreign country, even a grown child, is a major breach of Norwegian ettiquette.

Then, of course, there was a pandemic, and various disasters both foreign and domestic which made it unlikely that any Norwegian could travel to the United States for a month, or would even want to.

Now the Trondheim Cultural Exchange Society had written to the Sons of Knute: "Dear President  Hildrum" -- that would be Fred Hildrum, who was the president before the president before the president Wally had replaced -- "we are delighted to inform you that one of our young persons has agreed to take part in the Young Persons Exchange. We regret that it has taken so long for us to fulfill our end of the exchange, but world conditions simply have not permitted it. If you are still willing to receive one of our young adults, please email us at the address in the letterhead."

Wally immediately called a meeting of the Sons of Knute, and this was so unusual that all six Sons showed up.

Oregon at Illinois (2 pm, BTN): The Sons unanimously voted to accept the offer even though they were going to be on the hook for a round-trip flight from Oslo to Minneapolis. "Fair is fair," Wally said, "they paid for Dylan Haavik, after all." So it was official: Someone new was coming to town. Someone new, and his name was Bård Eskeland, a twenty-three year old student and musician from Ingenstedsby, a small village about seventy kilometers to the southeast of Trondheim.

News of his pending arrival brought a lot of excitement to town. Visitors didn't come by very often, largely because of the whole "not appearing on the map" issue, an issue you'd think would have been solved by satellite pictures or digital mapping or artificial intelligence or something by now, but it just hasn't been solved yet. Several of the older folk latched on to the fact that Bård was a musician and expressed hope that he could play the Hardanger fiddle like their grandfathers had. Their grandchildren had hopes that he would look like Erling Haaland, the great World Cup star, or at least know him.

So imagine everyone's surprise when a few days later Bård showed up as a slight, slim, soft-spoken young man with Bob Dylan's 1959 hair and the fashion sense of the Fonz. He didn't play Hardanger fiddle. He didn't know Erling Haaland, though he certainly knew of him, He did have an acoustic guitar and a backpack full of legal pads with song lyrics scribbled on them. Still, this wasn't who they were expecting, not at all. Oregon 24, Illinois 20.

No. 19 USC at Wisconsin (6:30 pm, NBC/Peacock): The townsfolk resolved to get to know Bård Eskeland and to try their level best to conceal their disappointment that he wasn't much like they had expected an actual Norwegian from Norway to be. 

Wally asked him a few questions like what he was studying (electrical engineering), and what sort of music he made.

"I will tell the truth," Bård said. "I was told to cut my hair and perhaps keep my tattoos covered while I was here in Lake WoB1Gon because I gather that you folk are quite conservative. I will not be disrespectful while I am here. I play in a band that makes heavy metal music. We are not really a Norwegian black metal band, but we are not far from that either."

"What is your band called?" asked Wally.

"Barna Brenner," said Bård.

"Does that mean 'barn burners'?" asked Wally, who for some reason was at least vaguely aware of the acts of arson associated with Norwegian black metal.

"No, it means 'the children are burning'," said Bård, and Wally was sorry he had asked. Not sorry enough, however, to keep him from asking another ill-advised question.

"What are your songs about?"

"Well, do not worry, they are not about children burning, that is just a metaphor for how the future of all children has been ruined by climate change."

Wally swallowed hard. The boys at the Sidetrack Tap were sure that "climate change" was just the excuse George Soros was going to use to turn the whole planet into a socialist gulag. 

"Of course all of our songs are in Norwegian, but I can translate one for you if you would like," said Bård.

Wally decided he would very much not like, but he didn't wish to seem rude. "Sure, go ahead," he said.

Bård pulled the top legal pad out of his backpack.

"Come with me now as we seek for our treasure
We shall find traces of heaven
Breathe deep the ichor of passion
Its fumes going straight to our heads 

They tell us we must not
But we know we must
And we will not be controlled

In dark corners we gather
We come together
We connect names and faces
And we write it all down

They tell us we must not
But we know we must
And we will not be controlled

Shame is for the weak
Our strength forbids it
We stand tall together
Unafraid of who we are

They tell us we must not
But we know we must
And we will not be controlled

They tell us we must not
But we know we must
And we will not be controlled."

"Well, that's ... certainly something," said Wally. "What is that song called?"

"Stjålne Truser," said Bård 

"I get it," said Wally. "It's all about strength and holding together, so you called it Steel Trusses, like what holds up a bridge."

"That's not what it means," Bård said.

"Oh?"

"'Stjålne truser' means 'stolen panties.'"

"So that's a metaphor, then."

"... no," said Bård. USC 38, Wisconsin 17.

No. 15 Iowa at Minnesota (2:30 pm, FS1): A sense of horror began to wash over Wally, as he realized the Lutheran church basement ladies were preparing a welcoming feast on Friday for someone who for all appearances was an extremely well-mannered sex pest. What was he supposed to do now? 

For his part, Bård politely made the rounds of the Sons of Knute and their wives, all of whom asked him few questions about his life but carried on endlessly about their bestemorer and their stories of the old country. He sat at recently-cleared tables festooned with lace doilies from someone's dowry, drinking coffee boiled in ancient enameled coffee pots, trying not to gaze longingly at the Keurigs that sat on every kitchen counter. At the Skogmo house he noticed that everyone else had a cup on a saucer, but his saucer was next to his cup and not underneath it. Elaine Skogmo poured him a cup of coffee, which Bård dutifully put on the saucer, an act which appeared to disappoint her, if not hurt her.

"I am sorry, was I not supposed to do that?" he asked.

"Oh no," Elaine said, "it's fine, I just thought that ... well, my great-grandfather always poured his coffee into the saucer and drank it from there, and I thought that's how Norwegians take their coffee."

"I see. Well, I'm sorry, but we use cups. Just like you!"

By Thursday afternoon it had become clear to the town that Bård just wasn't particularly Norwegian. Not, at least, as they had understood Norwegian ways.

By the time Bård made his way to the Lutheran church basement Friday evening the entire town suspected it had been had, convinced to pay a lot of money to bring over the village idiot of Ingenstedsby. So the dinner was going to be not just a welcome, but a test, to see if Bård could and would pass the real test of Norwegiannness.

Do I even have to tell you?

The aroma of lutefisk filled Bård's nose as he descended the staircase and in his mind this constituted the last straw. He came to learn about America, not to visit fake-Norwegian Disneyland. But, being Norwegian, he politely picked at the stinking, gelatinous sea creature on his plate, and went back for a second helping of creamed peas.

The watching eyes of the WoB1Gonians accepted this as proof that maybe he really was a nordmann after all. Following the dinner, Pastor Ingkvist -- not the one who was here in the Eighties, his daughter Rachel -- stood up and thanked the church ladies for their hard work and invited Bård to say a few words about his first impressions of the town.

Bård rose, walked intently to the front of the room, and began to speak.

"I would like to thank you for bringing me to your lovely town. It has been a long, long time since I have eaten lutefisk, because it has been a long time since I have been hung over."

Nervous laughter trickled across the room.

"The oils of the fish soak up the alcohol in your stomach, you see. Normally on a Friday in Norway, we eat tacos."

The laughter was not nervous now, and it was a lot more raucous.

Bård looked puzzled. "No, we really do. And, while I am sorry to disappoint you, we drink our coffee from cups, not saucers, I don't play the Hardanger fiddle, my mother doesn't do rosemaling, and I do not know Erling Haaland, though I certainly know of him.

"I came to America not for a free trip but because I wanted to get to know Americans. There are many in my country who think that everyone here wears a cowboy hat and carries a gun everywhere" (this made several men fidget in their seats, even though Pastor Rachel had insisted the church was to be a gun-free zone) "and hates black people but of course that is not true.

"I would like, however, for you to stop showing me how Norwegian you are."

The room fell silent.

"If we are having a contest to see who is the most Norwegian, I win. I have a passport to prove it. Please do not misunderstand me. I love that you are proud of your heritage. So am I. But I did not come here to see who you used to be. I came to see who you are. Would you please show me? Thank you."

And with that, he sat down.

Half the crowd was full of righteous fury. The audacity of this man, telling them to show him America in 2026 and not a carefully but wrongly curated version of Norwegian immigrant ways of the late 1800s. But the other half, well, they were relieved. Relieved to hear that they didn't have to pretend to be anything they weren't.

Bård is going fishing this weekend, and he has been promised hotdish and a Jucy Lucy before he goes back to Ingenstedsby. And he told Dylan Haavik that Berit said hello. Then he gave him a little bag with something in it. But they weren't stolen. Iowa 24, Minnesota 13.

Well, that's the news from Lake WoB1Gon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the special teams are above average.

Photo credit: “The news from Lake Wobegon” by Alan Kotok, CC BY 2.0

The Drop, Week 7: When the Tornado Hits Three Towns Over

The county where I live has a policy of sounding the tornado sirens whenever a tornado warning is issued for the county immediately to our west. I can't say it's a terrible idea since (a) severe weather moves from west to east, for the most part and (b) there probably isn't such a thing as too much advance warning that a tornado might be on the way. The county to our west is across the Mississippi River and in another state, but still, it's not a terrbile idea.

Unless you live with people who have anxiety about severe weather.

Exquisite chaos bloomed all over college football this past weekend like supercells ahead of a cold front, but it did not come near the five teams of the Sweepiverse. Only two of them played, and both of them lost, but that is what I predicted was going to happen, so. UCLA beating Wisconsin and Oregon beating Nebraska is what was supposed to happen. That was just the world functioning the way it normally does, though I wouldn't blame Nebraska fans for wondering why the world seems to want them to experience so much pain. (It's because of how y'all acted back in the Eighties and Nineties.) Dylan Raiola coming off the bench to beat his former team might seem like something out of a direct-to-streaming movie you'd turn off after fifteen minutes, but it really happened, in the same way that Indiana's winning streak got broken by a couple inches.

Illinois, Iowa, and Minnesota fans can take comfort in knowing that neither the meteor strike of upsets nor the garden-variety predictable victories/defeats came anywhere near them last weekend, but it's only because they weren't playing. It just turns out to have been a good day not to be playing. Assume nothing else.

The Sweep, Week 7: Slim Pickin's

In the limited scope that is the Sweepiverse, there are only two games this weekend, and they both have potential to be embarrassments for the teams in our purview. Tradition holds that I should pad this out with three other games so you get your money's worth. However, (a) I have a major event this weekend for which I am responsible so my mind is already elsewhere, and (b) this is free, ya goober. 

Wisconsin at No. 12 UCLA (6:30 pm, NBC/Peacock): This has a bit of potential to be a trap game for UCLA, lying as it does between the emotional victory over Oregon at Autzen Stadium in a game which took Nico Iamaleava out for the season, and ...

[checks UCLA's schedule]

... the Big Ten Championship game against whomever wins the Ohio State-Indiana game earlier in the day.

So there is opportunity here for the Badgers, if they can somehow manage to slap the Bruins into a defensive posture. I have the feeling, however, that Bob Chesney is far too wise of a coach to let his team think of this game as the first in a kitten-soft stretch of six or seven easily winnable games in a row (taking down Minnesota in Minneapolis won't be easy, but it's doable for this team). And, even if he isn't that wise, he's a better coach than Luke Fickell.

Isn't that right, Penn State? UCLA 35, Wisconsin 13.

Nebraska at Oregon (10 pm, FOX): When the chill winds of October begin to stir, they blow the bloom right off the rose.

[He's writing these words on a day when the dewpoint is 78º where he lives. -Ed.]

Did you know that Dylan Raiola played for Nebraska last year? Don't worry, the Fox crew will remind you six or seven times. Per quarter.

This could have been a great game, had Dante Moore not gotten injured and had the Huskers not gacked it away when they had Indiana in a submission hold early in the fourth quarter last week. This preserves Matt Rhule's hard-to-believe record of 2-26 against ranked teams, with both wins coming over a decade ago while he was the coach at Temple. And those two wins were against East Carolina and Navy. Now the Husker faithful, who have had their confidence shaken more times than a state fair lemonade, have to be wondering if 5-0 was just a point they passed through on their way to 7-5. They're almost certainly wrong, however. It was a point they passed through on their way to 8-4. Oregon 31, Nebraska 24.

The Drop, Week 6: Who Would You Rather Be?

 

If you had to pick between being one of these two teams, which one would you pick?

• Team A is a traditional power fallen on hard times. It began it season with a 5-0 run against teams it frankly should have beaten, then hosted a Top Ten team this past Saturday. Team A dominated its visitor through the first three quarters, setting it up nicely to open the gap and send a message. But instead it squandered an eleven-point lead and wound up losing by a field goal in front of a fired-up home crowd.
• Team B is also, technically, a traditional power, only its heyday was so long ago that no one actually remembers it. It lost to an up-and-coming SEC team at home in Week 2, but followed that up with a gritty road win against a team most expected to be pretty good this season, then a victory at home against a conference foe it rarely, rarely beats. Which made this past weekend all the most surprising when it got mashed into goo by a team that not even its own fans take all that seriously.

I don't know why I'm being cryptic here. Team A is Nebraska, Team B is Minnesota, and honestly, you wouldn't want to be either of them right now, given how all that early promise vanished into dust in the span or a few hours (Minnesota) or fifteen minutes of game time (Nebraska).

Then again, you could be an Illinois fan, breathing a sigh of relief that your team won by a single point in overtime on the road in East Lansing, because we all know what a snakepit that place is.

The Sweep, Week 6: In Which The Lines Get Drawn

I want to thank you all for understanding when I didn't publish The Sweep or The Drop last week. A friend of mine died suddenly (but not entirely unexpectedly) last Wednesday. I was at a work conference when I learned he was sick; shortly after I got home, he died. I just didn't have it in me to be witty or profound. I'm not even sure that I do have that in me now.

My friend would not at all mind me reminding you that substance abuse does not make your problems go away, it just gives you more problems on top of the ones you already have.

This is a week in which all four of our teams which are playing are going to get sorted. If the locus of the power in the conference is moving back to the old Big Ten West (maybe?), this is where the cream rises to the top.

Of course, cream isn't the only thing that floats, but I digress.

No. 20 Iowa at Washington (Friday, 8 pm, FOX/FS1): On the road, short week, Kirk Ferentz hasn't ever won on the West Coast except for the 2019 Holiday Bowl, et cetera. I still think that of the four West Coast teams, Washington is the runt of the 2026 litter. Probably gonna be another pending-infarction Hawkeyes game. Iowa 30, Washington 27.

No. 7 Indiana at Nebraska (11 am, FOX): So far Nebraska has been rolling so steadily that Matt Rhule has had time to start an acting career. For his next role he'll be playing Deer In Headlights. Indiana 37, Nebraska 13.

Illinois at Michigan State (2:30 pm, FS1):

Illinois 24, Michigan State 20.

Minnesota at Purdue (7 pm, BTN): I know, what disgusting fluid can PJ Fleck smear or pour all over his face this week? Given that it's Purdue, the only answer is diesel. But, of course, you have to win the game first. A laughable objection, I realize, given that Purdue ... is Purdue, but it seems like the Boilermakers are a bit less Purdubious than they were last year. If Minnesota fans are getting a little cocky (and some of them are), this game should provide the scare that they need to sober themselves up. Minnesota isn't going to lose but it'll be closer than might be expected, because I'm just not sure that Michigan and Washington are actually all that good, though Mississippi State is looking like it wasn't that bad of a loss. Minnesota 31, Purdue 27.

BONUS GAME: No. 19 USC at Penn State (6:30 pm, NBC/Peacock): Why did I pick this game and not Ohio State-Oregon? Because this game is going to be outright hilarious. Both of these teams smell blood in the water, but one of them is going to lose. I'm beginning to think Lincoln Riley couldn't coach a fart out of a bulldog, so I'm taking the home team. Penn State 34, USC 24.

The Drop, Week 4: 36 Lines About 18 Teams

• Illinois: The Illini have looked solid against clearly overmatched opponents, and futile against peer schools. Guess which of those two descriptions best fits the remaining schedule.
• Indiana: Remember last season when Iowa gave the Hoosiers the closest thing they got to a scare? Northwestern remembers.
• Iowa: Beating Michigan was a tremendous boost to team confidence. I'm not saying it will happen, but ten-win Iowa can't be ruled out.
• Maryland: September Maryland used to be a thing, but isn't any more. The next thing that won't be a thing any more will be "Head Coach Mike Locksley."
• Michigan: I don't believe in karma. Michigan lost to Iowa fair and square.
• Michigan State: The rebuild is in progress. It won't be completed this season, alas.
• Minnesota: Beating Washington on the road is a good sign. Losing to Mississippi State at home isn't, though.
• Nebraska: Still hasn't played anybody. I said what I said.
• Northwestern: This team scares me. It's going to beat somebody it shouldn't.
• Ohio State: A very good team that should win the conference. Emphasis on "should."
• Oregon: The Ducks have recovered nicely from that embarrassing loss to Oklahoma State. They have to be wondering if Dan Lanning is still the guy, though.
• Penn State: Matt Campbell couldn't win the Big XII with Iowa State's players. How is he going to win the Big Ten with them?
• Purdue: Still plays football. Bless their hearts.
• Rutgers: See Purdue. Or Maryland?
• UCLA: Has looked really good so far. Still don't think they've been tested all that much.
• USC: It was because of Pete Carroll. Compare notes with Nebraska fans.
• Washington: I don't think the Huskies should scare anyone. They're still dangerous, though.
• Wisconsin: Great win over Iowa State last weekend! Luke Fickell is just keeping the seat warm for Jake Dickert.