Veterans’ Day, November 11, 1972, was the start of the Nebraska firearm deer season.
The Nebraska Cornhusker football team was ranked third in the nation and playing a winnable road game in Ames, Iowa against the Iowa State Cyclones.
My worrisome father was adamant that I axe my plans to venture away from the farmyard while listening to the game. He was (legitimately) concerned some overzealous hunter might mistake me for a deer and take a shot at me.
I promised him I would wear something red and stay on the gravel road, but he gave me the stray bullet lecture and that was that.
I listened to the first few minutes of the game in my bedroom and felt like I was going to explode. When no one was looking, I sneaked out the back door, scurried through the windbreak north of the house, and began walking northwest toward our alfalfa field. I was partially obedient; I did wear something red and once I got to the border of our farm, I stayed on the gravel roads.
The Cornhusker-Cyclone game, played in Clyde Williams Stadium on a muddy field, was a back-and-forth battle. Despite losing six fumbles and throwing two interceptions, Nebraska held a 23-17 lead thanks to a short Rich Sanger field goal with 1:03 remaining in the game.
NU appeared to be in a good position to chalk up its eighth consecutive victory.
However, Cyclone quarterback George Amundson moved Iowa State down the field, driving 74 yards in 35 seconds.
Amundson completed passes of 12, 18, and 20 yards before connecting on a 24-yard TD toss to Willie Jones with 23 seconds remaining in the game.
Now it was up to ISU Kicker Tom Goedjen to boot the extra point, and the mighty Cornhuskers would suffer their second loss of the season.
As fate would have it, the Iowa State student body stormed the field to celebrate Jones’s touchdown, and Goedjen was forced to wait for several minutes for the premature party to end. After the City of Ames and ISU campus police escorted the overzealous students from the field, Goedjen missed the extra point, and the game ended in a 23-23 tie.
What will always remain embedded in my football cranium was how the iconic Lyell Bremser described ISU’s tying touchdown. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn Lyell had just described Nebraska scoring the winning touchdown. This was Iowa State TYING the Cornhuskers! Iowa State!
When it came to fair and balanced sports announcing, Lyell was King. He was a master at giving credit to the opposition — and with all due respect to Tim Moreland, Joe Patrick, Don Gill, Dick Perry, Ray Scott, Kent Pavelka, Warren Swain, Jim Rose, and Greg Sharpe — Lyell set a standard of praising the opposition that no other Nebraska football play-by-play announcer could imitate. I truly believe his admiration for the opposition came from his heart and was not on-air political glad-handing.
In addition to dealing with the aggravation of Nebraska blowing its lead against the Cyclones in the final minute, I had to explain my insubordination to Dad for leaving home and risk getting shot at by a deer hunter. When I told him that I only left the gravel road to walk on our land, he let it slide.
I think Dad knew I was suffering enough anguish over Nebraska not winning its football game, and he didn’t feel a need to jump on the dog pile.
A few hours later, Dad relished in ribbing me over the tie and assured me the odds were now totaling against the Cornhuskers winning their third straight national championship.
Dad got a bigger charge out of the newspapers’ headlines the next day.
The Lincoln Journal-Star rubbed salt in the wound with: “Nebraska’s Big Red Balloon Goes Psst.”
The Omaha World-Herald proclaimed: “Cyclones Let George Do It For Tie.”
While Dad chuckled at the headlines, a Devaney quote describing his players as “looking like a bunch of farmers standing around at a picnic waiting for someone to serve them lunch,” was not well received by the state’s agriculture sector. Several people resented the implication that farmers would take advantage of a free lunch.
Devaney could have saved face and used the following analogy to describe his team’s play that any farmer would have easily understood: Nebraska played like a freshly plopped cow pie.