Well, we lost. All of the hype, all of the tailgating, all of the beer was just a big waste of time. Number 13 loss was just like the rest of them — a loss.

If that’s the way you look at Saturday’s 27-10 game with Iowa, you need to talk to the players.

As the game came to a close in the final minutes of the fourth quarter, I watched all of the red-clothed fans of the Cyclones filing out of Cyclone Stadium like dejected cattle that failed to win a blue ribbon at the county fair. It made me sick.

Who cares if you don’t want to get stuck in traffic? The Cyclone players busted their butts out on that ice rink we call Jack Trice Field. Can they leave the game before it’s over and get away from the traffic of the press? No.

As I watched the cattle file out, I wondered what the Cyclone players must be thinking of a lot of their “fans.”

For the first half of the game, the Cyclones were a finely tuned football machine, comparable to a Volkswagon. They’re not as big as the Nebraska Cadillacs or the Hawkeye BMW’s — but they run well with what they have and they never quit.

In the second half they lost some steam (or gasoline if you’re still relating to the Volkswagon,) but they didn’t stop until the final gun sounded.

Senior linebacker Angelo Provenza received defensive MVP honors for the second straight week, but that didn’t matter to him. He wanted to beat Iowa. It had been four years of losing to the Hawks for him. He didn’t want to make it five.

Provenza was confident before the game. “This is my chance,” he said.

It was his last chance to beat a team that has plagued the Cyclones with losses for 13 years.

Provenza made 12 stops against the Hawks in the game, including nine solo efforts — he did his part.

Sometimes you win and sometimes you don’t. For Provenza and the rest of the seniors, the last few seasons haven’t usually included the word “win.”

I saw Provenza about an hour after the game. All of the cattle had left. The press traffic had all driven away. He was walking slowly out of the back of the Olsen building looking at the ground with his head down.

I asked him if he was banged up at all. He wasn’t, but even if he had been, it wouldn’t have mattered to him.

I asked him if he was happy with his performance. It didn’t matter to him if he had 100 tackles — they lost, again. Provenza’s last chance to beat the Hawks was finished and the look in his eyes told me how that made him feel.

It’s moments like that one that make a person realize how important the game is to the players. The cattle can go home and talk about next year’s tailgate; the press traffic can write articles about facts, figures and 13 year streaks; even the coaches can go to bed that night planning their schemes for next year; but players like Provenza only get a few chances.

Quarterback Todd Doxzon said it best, “I don’t want to talk about the past. I’m only looking forward to the future.”

Players like Provenza don’t care about a 13-year streak. They only care about the game at hand and winning it. Sometimes the cattle and the press traffic forget that.

---

Jason Howland is a senior in journalism from Riceville. He is the sports editor of the Daily.