Northwestern went into Saturday’s game 6-3, but for the students, we’d only witnessed a 2-2 record at Ryan Field; 1-2 if you remove the Illinois State game that occurred before students returned to campus in full force. And after two heartbreaking losses at home against Purdue and Michigan State, plus the letdown last week against Penn State, it wouldn’t have been surprising if most of the students’ excitement had tailed off.
Had it been another opponent, that sentiment may very well be true. But Iowa always brings out the best and worst in the students — the best in spirit and worst in belligerence. Despite gloomy overcasts and unrelenting rain, we came out in force for the most caustic matchup of the season.
Statistics don’t always tell us everything. They don’t measure how pissed we were when Iowa had the gall to demand the ball first to start the game. They don’t tell us that when we scored on our first drive after forcing a three-and-out, we were ready for a classic, even if we didn’t know it yet. They don’t mention the eerily apropos hubris that the darkened clouds suggested late in the first quarter, when the grounds crew had to turn on the lights before noon, or that the field seemed like a battleground with the oncoming rain.
Neither could we afford ourselves enough confidence to make it through another 60-minute drama without a little suffering. Losing close ones that the “Cardiac ‘Cats” are supposed to win don’t alleviate anxieties. They heighten them. Despite witnessing Northwestern’s defense locking up Iowa and throwing away the key in the first half, no one was getting cocky. Not anymore. Not after Demos missed another 40-yard field goal and the halftime scoreboard showing 7-3.
But you had to feel good about it. Call it destiny, karma, God’s will, whatever; everything was aligning itself for something special. You couldn’t feel it in Section 132? It was like we somehow knew that Coach Fitz and the crew had a can of Almighty-whupass ready to go with Iowa’s name on it.
And then Iowa rips out two straight touchdowns to make it 7-17. Hubris.
Now, follow this line of thought. Northwestern consistently outplays its opponents in the first half, but plateaus after halftime like clockwork. Why in the world did we expect anything other than another letdown? Cite every single “since 1995” statistic you want; the fact is, to believe that Northwestern was going to uncork all hell a la 1995 was to eschew common sense. Evidence: Northwestern racked up a total of three punts and an interception during the third quarter and the first drive of the fourth. Crap.
But if you would have told me that Northwestern’s much-maligned secondary was about to pull off something that only three other teams had done this season, I’d have smacked you faster than you could say “naked bootleg”.
After Iowa linebacker Jeremiha Hunter intercepted a tipped Persa pass, safety Brian Peters returned the favor and sparked off a familiar “here-we-go” moment. Quarterback Dan Persa followed with an 85-yard drive, featuring a 21-yard pass on 2nd-and-19, and the only third down play being a 3rd-and-2 situation. Efficient. Dramatic. 14-17.
After forcing another Iowa punt, every single student was on his or her feet. There’s no great way of dealing with false hope or dread, but you couldn’t really shake off the thought that at any point, Northwestern was going to go down in the most psychologically destructive way possible.
Twenty yards to paydirt, wide receiver Demetrius Fields ran a corner route, which required beating cornerback Micah Hyde at the line and busting tail towards the corner of the endzone for an expected pass. Persa lobbed a jump ball 20 yards out towards No. 8 for the biggest grab of his life. He pointed his fingers towards heaven, with teammates surrounding him, and the entire student section going nuts.
At the time, Persa must have believed that his destiny was to walk out of Ryan Field that night on an adrenaline high. Instead, he lay on the 30-yard line, bewildered at the sense of pain, 30 yards away from a celebration of massive proportion. He would be helped off the field and literally carried away, onto an operating table hours later. Hubris.
We would eventually win that game. We would eventually rush the field. And damnit, it felt good. Soaked, cold and out of our minds.
But we look at Dan Persa, at Ryan Field and then to Wrigley Field, at a season that has long been brutal to us ‘Cats. Saturday sold us on this: that we would be willing to go into hell for Northwestern. And we will never look back.