Same old, same old: At least the Hoosiers beat the spread

The losingest program in big-time college football history did what it does best, and most often, Saturday afternoon. They kept it semi-close, but in the end, it was the usual result.

BLOOMINGTON – Every year, I come back here to the alma mater to watch and cover IU football, hoping against hope I will see something new and different, the way Deion Sanders has made Colorado new and different in the matter of about 10 minutes.

Of course, I know better. This is the losingest FBS program in history. IN HISTORY! Folks like me, who’ve been waiting for some modicum of success since the late 1970’s, we’ve come by our pain honestly.

Back when I was a freshman here in 1978, I was all excited after the Hoosiers lost a close game at No. 13 LSU, then knocked off No. 15 Washington in Seattle with Warren Moon at quarterback. Now IU was heading back home to face No. 12 Nebraska, back in the days when Nebraska was special, and the game was being shown on national TV. This was it, the big moment, the day when IU would establish itself as a real football team that could compete with the nation’s very best.

At the end of the first quarter, the Huskers led 28-0, getting three touchdown runs from the awesomely named I.M. Hipp. The final was 69-17 as Nebraska came to Memorial Stadium on a cool, rainy day and rolled up 613 yards. The day after the game, then-head coach Lee Corso went on his coach’s show and shared his IU ``plays of the game,’’ which turned out to be the kick-return team after every Nebraska touchdown. “We had a lot of practice,” he said wryly.

Want to know why most of the student section left by halftime of a one-possession game against the No. 3 team in the nation Saturday? Because they knew the outcome which, for the record, was a 23-3 loss – meaning at least the Hoosiers covered the spread.

(Yay).

The students knew the opponent, in this case Ohio State, was going to roll the home team in the second half. And they knew the IU offense was completely incapable of moving the ball on the Buckeyes, rolling up a robust total of 10 first downs, the two quarterbacks (Brendan Sorsby and Tayven Jackson) combining to complete 9-of-21 passes for 82 yards.

If you’re a student, the question is: IU football or Natty Light at the crib?

Easy call.

To the Hoosier defense’s great credit, the game never really got out of hand the way so many of these matchups tend to do. Ordinarily, Ohio State curb stomps the Hoosiers – the Buckeyes have won this matchup 29 straight times, the longest streak in the country – but at least IU kept it far from the realm of embarrassment.

Third down conversions? OSU was just 2-of-12 and consistently got stuffed in the red zone.

Shoot, the Hoosiers even held future Colt Marvin Harrison, Jr. to just two catches and 18 yards.

“I was really concerned about that matchup,” Tom Allen said. “I know for a fact those (OSU) receivers are special. And the one (Harrison) is probably the best we’ve ever gone against since I’ve been coaching. So to be able to keep those guys in check was very critical. It was a combination of some pressure up front as well as the guys coming around the back end and doing a good job of disguising things.”

Almost any other game, any other opponent, IU’s defense would have given its team a chance to win. But this is Ohio State. And IU’s offense is once again putrid, limited by poor quarterback play and ultra-conservative play calling. Allen, who started Sorsby (8-of-16 for 58 yards), soon moved to Jackson (1-of-5 for 24 yards). Next week against Indiana State, he will start Jackson while also giving Sorsby some snaps. The guy who stands out after these first two games will be named the starter.

Which inspires the question: Isn’t this why you have spring ball, summer and fall camp -- to determine who’s best? At least Allen isn’t planning to stick with two quarterbacks beyond next week’s game.  Because the old saying is true; if you have two quarterbacks, you have none. Which is my fear with this year’s Hoosiers; they don’t have a quarterback. Again.

(And I’ll be kind and not mention how Michael Penix is tearing it up at Washington. Whoops. Just mentioned it. Sorry).

Allen and his staff played it insanely close to the vest, milking the clock, attempting to shorten the game. Smart, but uninspiring.

“I would say it (the offensive gameplan) was probably a little more conservative than we…would like for it to be,” Allen said. “But there’s certain reasons for that. Yeah, we’ve got to be able to (take some shots downfield). We really felt coming in, you’re going to have to take about about seven or eight shots. And we had a couple of those and then got pressured…

“No question we have talented receivers on the perimeter and we’ve got to do a better job of getting those guys the football. But I think you’re going to see it continue to grow each week. Both these guys can throw the football…Two young guys, probably a little more conservative than we will be moving forward...”

The painful and somewhat comical truth is, the Hoosiers’ best offensive weapon Saturday was punter James Evans, who sent several kicks into orbit,  averaging 54.2 yards per punt.

At this point, the dear reader is waiting for me to blast Allen and insist he’s not the right guy for this job, and that time might come. Just not yet. While it certainly appears that the 2020 miracle season was a complete aberration, one that’s been followed up by two dreadful seasons, it’s too early to give up on what Allen is doing here. Now, if they find a way to lose to Rutgers again, and Maryland, and maybe Louisville, we can reach some hard and fast conclusions and call for his head – even though his buyout at season’s end is a cool $20 million. (It’s $7.95 million after next season). Clearly, if this is another small disaster, IU should think long and hard about making a change. But not yet. Let’s talk later.

In the end, this may just be IU’s football’s forever fate. At one point during the broadcast, analyst and old friend Gary Danielson said IU fans are going to have to be patient.

Gary, bud, we’ve been patient since the Rose Bowl year of 1968. Isn’t that long enough?

At least we know how to tailgate.