There’s a line in the Possum Lodge Man’s Prayer: “I’m a man, but I can change, if I have to, I guess.”
It’s tough to draw comparisons between “The Red Green Show” and college football fanship, but I couldn’t find a better way to express my evolution as an Iowa football follower this season.
On Sunday, for the first time in my life, I looked over the various college football rankings and legitimately cared about what I saw.
For the better part of two decades, I’ve watched Iowa football and embraced it for what it is: an exhibition of resiliency and unflinching modesty.
And an uncanny ability to ignore national rankings.
While some Iowa fans insist on complaining about Iowa’s perpetual disrespect on the national level, the savviest fans usually direct their whining to how Iowa can improve (although, it’s not always the most constructive criticism).
Well, Hawkeye fans, it’s time to start getting passionate about national polls.
It’s been quite a wait, but I can finally say I care about what others think of Iowa football.
And believe it or not, this has been a bittersweet experience for me.
One of my favorite parts of growing up in a Hawkeye house was that I really didn’t have to worry about what others thought of my team.
Even in a good year, I could enjoy Iowa football for the sheer love of the program without worrying about the politics of the college game. And my ignorance was acceptable, if not justified.
I could ignore my Iowa State-backing friends throughout a five-year drought in the CyHawk series. I could withstand a one-win season to open the Kirk Ferentz era.
I could chuckle to myself while impulsive fans called for Ferentz’s replacement not too long ago.
Eventually, a strange dichotomy arose from this apparent ignorance. I guess it could be most aptly described as … well, bliss.
Not many things can get a smile out of me like Iowa athletics can, and nothing makes me happier than hearing “In Heaven There is No Beer.”
But at the same time, I can take solace after a Hawkeye loss in the simple fact that I’ll get a chance to see them succeed somewhere down the road.
At the core of this optimism is a strong belief that success is completely relative.
No one will ever persuade me Iowa wasn’t playing the best football in the Big Ten at the end of last season. By my logic, that team was very successful.
Now, it seems my logic will take a very necessary back seat to the voters of the BCS polls.
Judging by an average ranking of third in the country, Iowa has the love of the most objective appraiser in college football — the computer component of the BCS.
That’s not to say the machines are completely unbiased, and they clearly aren’t anywhere near perfect. But right now, they’re the ones I feel most content with.
Iowa will likely have a tougher time convincing human voters it deserves further ascension up the national polls until they can boast 11 or 12 wins. Then again I’m not even convinced Iowa has earned anything more than a cursory spot in the top 10 just yet.
Maybe it won’t be so hard to let these polls dictate my mood after all.