Is there a greater understatement in college football than “Iowa is not built to come back from behind?” Every announcer that calls an Iowa game has this cliché locked and loaded for the moment Iowa falls down two scores, even if this happens two minutes into the first quarter. This sounds like a lazy half-truth, but every dumb announcer in college football is right. Iowa’s offense absolutely, positively cannot be trusted to score when it absolutely, positively must to win a football game. There is not a soul with a modicum of college football knowledge that doesn’t know just how true this is.
Of all the games in this season, it was this one that made the gaping hole in Kirk’s football philosophy look the size of the Grand Canyon. We’ll get to the defense, but as Kirk would probably tell you in some "aw shucks” way, things don’t always go according to plan. If your whole system is set up so that your offense can succeed only when and if your defense and special teams puts them in a great position, you are inevitability going to be screwed on the 2-4 Saturdays where the defense doesn’t do that. (And of course this season and last, Iowa’s offense has succeeded only when and if the lost continent of Atlantis rises from the depths of the sea.) If your offense is instead structured around the goal of moving the ball as effectively as possible, you have a fail-safe when your defense has an off-day, or more precisely to this game, a slightly off-day.
If you watched the game, you maybe looked at how the Iowa defense played and think they kinda sucked against Nebraska. You’d be kinda wrong. Let’s first acknowledge the colossal absence of Cooper DeJean in this game. Losing him was a devastating blow to both the defense and special teams. Going from a transcendent player to someone Kirk judiciously said was “not ready for primetime” after the game, is as sizable a downgrade as they come. (Reminder, Iowa was down to their fourth and fifth corners given all the injuries in the off and early-season to Jermari Harris and Terry Roberts.) For the first time all year, Iowa’s defense had a big glowing red spot on them like a boss in a video game, and Nebraska made it their beeswax to hit that spot as much as possible.
Let’s also concede that it took Iowa too long to adjust and compensate for this newfound weakness in pass coverage, that the defensive line's pass rush was crummy, and the defense couldn’t avoid committing dumb penalties. Fine. Given all that, the defense gave up 329 yards, with 25% of that coming on a single horrendous busted coverage for an 87-yard touchdown. Nebraska's other 17 points were scored thusly: a field goal drive that started on the Iowa 31-yard line, a touchdown drive that started on the Iowa 39-yard line, and a touchdown drive that started on the Iowa 18-yard line. Each of these drives was the result of Iowa fumbles caused by two quarterbacks unable to cope with the admittedly horrifying prospect of completely unblocked defenders bearing down on them and a punt returner that struggles to field punts. I don’t hand out grades, but if I did, Iowa’s defense would get something like B-.
As for the offense? Well, let’s give them some concessions, too. Iowa’s most consistent offensive player, Sam LaPorta, was out. Spencer Petras, who was 1-for-6 for 9 yards, left the game with an injury, which left Iowa with what I concede is a downgrade at the quarterback position. Let’s also acknowledge that Nebraska’s defense, and in particular their rush defense, stinks. Here’s the scenario: Iowa trails 17-0, in part because of two Hawkeye turnovers. Despite this, the offense is starting the drive on the Nebraska 48-yard line and has a great chance to put some points on the board.
A first down run to Kaleb Johnson went for six yards. Excellent. On second-and-four, Padilla threw a pass to no one. On third-and-four in what is surely four-down territory, Padilla dropped back to pass. Jack Plumb and Ben Lewis blocked the same number of people on this play, and we both watched a Nebraska defender ran unabated straight at Padilla, who flailed and squirmed before being wrangled to the ground for a huge loss. Suddenly, it isn’t four-down territory at all. That’s the kind of day it was and usually is for the Iowa offense, turning out yet another sub-300 yard day.
The offense did eventually come to life in the third quarter, down 24-0, but they lumbered with all the speed of an 80s slasher-movie villain. Kaleb Johnson continued to show how dangerous he can be, getting to the second level and taking the ball the distance on a 44-yard run. Luke Lachey played like a man against toddlers, shucking Cornhusker defenders off his back on his way into the end zone for a big boy touchdown. And while Iowa’s two best playmakers for 2023 making plays to claw Iowa back into this contest was perfectly cool, the game clock took Johnson out of the game and the 9-play, 90-yard drive that led to the Lachey scoring was very much the exception, not the rule. If you read the first sentence of this article or watched the game, you know where this is going. When Iowa positively and absolutely had to throw the ball, Iowa couldn’t do it for the same reason an 8-track player can’t play a CD.
Iowa gaining precisely zero yards on a drive that started on the Nebraska 27-yard line thanks to a baller strip and recovery by Logan Klemp was the harbinger of doom for any hope for Iowa’s chances of winning the game. While technically the field goal by Drew Stevens made it a one-score game, Iowa’s best chance to splice together a hideous win from this junkyard of a game slipped through their fingers on that possession. Or more accurately, through the hands of Alex Padilla. All that remained was a few chaotic scrambles and watching the football be force-fed to the turf.
We are well past learning anything new with this team. This defense is awesome, but when their performance falls from superb transcendence to just pretty good, the team cannot win football games. Iowa’s offense still needs to be bulldozer parented to do anything, and even then they sometimes look like a three-year-old lost in a supermarket. With DeJean out, the defense couldn’t be transcendent. With Kirk at the helm, Iowa’s offense can’t ever be transcendent.
I hate losing to Nebraska. I hate Iowa not going to the Big Ten Championship Game too. (I’ll happily have Iowa be the least shitty team in the shittiest division in college football. It’s certainly better than being fourth shittiest or whatever we are.) A cold weather bowl awaits our Hawkeyes. At 7-5, we have as Rorschach a record as it comes. If you are still traumatized by 1970s Hawkeye football, maybe this record and the Minnesota and Wisconsin wins elicits a shrug and a “not bad.” Maybe those days are an abstraction of history for you and instead you look around the Big Ten and see all those shiny new coaches everybody’s got, and maybe 7-5 generates a furrowed brow and an “unacceptable.” As a proud pessimist, I see Iowa’s trophy case as half-empty.
But any discussions about the acceptable level of expectations for the Iowa football team are beside the point. We should expect that Kirk is doing everything he can to put Iowa in a position to win football games. With Kirk’s son running Kirk’s bad offense badly, there is just no way to believe that with a straight face that Kirk is doing everything he can to put Iowa in a position to win football games. It’s time for that to change.
Speaking of change, Kirk, let’s talk it out. I’m not saying it is right or fair or correct or good, but change is inevitable. Death, taxes, and the evolution of the game of football. It just happens. I’m not saying you have to like it. Go ahead and yell at those clouds, king, but despite everyone’s best efforts, new people are born, grow up, and have new ideas about how to do things, and sometimes those ideas are actually good. Better even, sometimes, than old ideas. I realize it is scary and upsetting and feels just so wrong. I have empathy for you. I think movies with practical effects are better than ones with CGI. I can't help myself but say movies were better when.... But I can't stop them, so let’s move it along in the grieving process. You are already in denial about your offense. Let’s just skip past anger, bargaining, despair and go right to acceptance. Change doesn’t have to be your adversary. Let Brian go. Hire some whippersnapper to run the offense. Finish your Iowa career with a few kickass seasons before taking your stagecoach out of town like Gary Cooper in High Noon.
See you all after the bowl game.
Hawkeye Droppings
* It was a real choose-your-own-adventure story to determine the worst part of Iowa’s offense. The offensive line? A barren receiver corps? A fourth-year quarterback with 20+ starts under his belt that looked like he hadn’t seen a football field before? None of it is good.
* Can we talk about Arland Bruce as a punt returner? I struggle to see the upside, with bad calls on whether to field punts or not, struggling to field that ones he does and rarely offering much for returns, it sure feels like the old “Max Cooper” method of just fair catching everything would be an improvement.
* Sebastian Castro. There is a fine line between being Bob Sanders and "getting flagged for devastating penalties." Just rein it in a smidge.
* Sometimes the pass rush just seemingly evaporates. I was under the admittedly lazy assumption that Nebraska’s offensive line sucks, but they couldn’t get to Casey Thompson at all, which would have really helped the new cornerbacks.
* I’m going to try to remember these last couple of seasons as the year Iowa's defense kicked ass, and not the year Iowa's offense stubbed its toe on a piece of sand and went to the emergency. It's difficult, but I'm going to try.
