Iowa has a lot of corn, and soybeans.
Driving the 16 hours to Iowa City and back provides lots of time for contemplation. That is, when your co-driver stops yelling “Iowa corn sucks!”
In the eight hours that preceded the arrival to Kinnick Stadium, there was one thought that I tried not to think on too much: “What if the Bison pull this off?”
Don’t get me wrong, I know how good the Bison are, but this one had a feeling about it. This was Iowa, a team that went undefeated in the regular season last year at Kinnick Stadium, a difficult place to play. In my head, I predicted that the Bison would lose, but would make a game out of it.
I should never had doubted. I had worries before both of the other games this season. The Herd showed just what they could do against the pressure.
Still, this was a ranked FBS team; this was different.
Arriving in Iowa City, I dropped my photographer off at the Bison tailgate party. On my walk to the stadium, I realized the magnitude of the game. In the blocks surrounding the stadium, it was solid packs of black and yellow, with a good amount of green mixed in.
Upon entering the stadium, I got to walk around the concourse on the north side of the stadium. There was plenty of green around. It was just amazing just how many Bison fans had made the trip.
I took the elevator to press level, took my seat and took a minute to take it in. This was my first time being up in a press box outside of Fargo, and for that reason, this will one will be special.
At that moment, I had no idea how much more special it would be.
The Gold Star Marching Band put on a fantastic performance pregame, and then the show started.
Watching the opening drive, my confidence grew. Outside of one snap over Easton Stick’s head, it was a good drive for the Bison. As would be the defensive stand on Iowa’s first possession.
The fact that good Bison drives kept stalling around the Hawkeye’s 30 became a worry quite quick. Iowa looked like they could do just enough to keep the Bison out of the end zone.
And the Hawkeye defense did that, but still the Bison would draw first blood. The high vantage point at Kinnick Stadium gave the perfect view of a free Pierre Gee-Tucker setting his sights on the quarterback. As the ball wobbled up in the air, a hush fell around the stadium, and then the body of green down and to my left exploded. MJ Stumpf waltzed into the end zone, Bison lead.
Throughout the afternoon, I also realized why the Fargodome is such a special place. At Kinnick, they get loud on third down. At the Fargodome, the fans are always loud.
Even when the Hawkeye led, there was not the same energy that you would come to expect at a football game in Fargo.
In the fourth quarter, when the Bison would put on a brilliant 15 play, 80 yard drive, you could tell where the energy was coming from in the crowd. That gaggle of green that roped along the top of the north stands were out-cheering the home supporters, despite being outnumbered ten to one.
After a failed two-point conversion, it looked grim for the Bison. But then the Hawkeyes made a mistake. As the gentleman next to me pointed out, “They are playing not to lose, and when you do that, you lose.”
Then came a great drive to give Cam Pederson a chance. During the Bison timeout, the tension could be cut with a knife.
When the kick went up, there was a brief moment of silence. That right upright loomed large, and it was going to be close.
One thing I have learned for field goals, don’t look at the ball. Instead, look at the crowd behind the goalposts. At that time, it was Iowa fans behind, and as the ball flew, they hardly moved.
Instead, a loud roar came up from the other end, and BisoNation rejoiced. Meanwhile, I leaned back in my chair, and thought, “Did that really just happen?”
It had.