It’s time to confess.
I make deals with sports gods.
In 2019, I told the gods that if my Kansas City Chiefs would win a Super Bowl, I could handle Nebraska having a losing football season.
It happened. The Chiefs won Super Bowl LIV, and the Huskers 2019 season ended with five wins and seven losses.
The gods also blessed me with Super Bowl victories for the Chiefs following the 2022 and 2023 seasons.
Ask and you shall receive. Sort of.
The gods are now offering their sense of humor. My Chiefs lost at Dallas on Thanksgiving Day to drop to six wins and six losses. That KC loss certainly meant the Cornhuskers would beat Iowa on Black Friday.
That didn’t happen either as the Hawkeyes dominated Nebraska, 40-16.
This football season, Nebraska and its’ 9.25 million-dollar per year head football coach has both entertained and disappointed its fans with a record of seven wins and five losses. In three years, for just under 28 million dollars, Nebraska fans have watched coach Ruhle’s teams win 19 games and lose 18 contests.
This wasn’t part of the deal. At least, not in my superstitious mind.
Now I’m negotiating with the sports gods concerning Nebraska men’s basketball.
The deal: My Chiefs can miss the NFL playoffs if the Huskers can qualify for the NCAA Tournament this March and win at least one game.
We shall see.
The Chiefs will have to win their remaining five games to even have an outside shot at qualifying for the playoffs.
The Huskers are off to an 8-0 start which includes impressive wins over Oklahoma and Kansas State. NU’s biggest game of the early season will be this Sunday when they host Creighton at Pinnacle Bank Arena.
What about Big Red Volleyball?
Well, I am not going to negotiate with the sports gods concerning the Husker volleyball team.
I have gone to a higher power.
I have asked Santa Claus to deliver the 2025 national championship trophy to Lincoln, Nebraska.
I asked the fat man in the big red suit to do so in 2024 and he did not deliver.
An angry phone call was made to Santa on December 26, 2024.
I got Kris Kringle out of bed, but he calmly came clean.
Santa said my Christmas gift had blown out of his sleigh somewhere over central Pennsylvania.
“Tie the damn thing down until you are another 1,073 miles west,” I told Mr. Claus in a not so jolly old tone of voice.
Let’s hope Santa has a short memory and that snarky phone call doesn’t cause him to intensely examine his Kevin Horn naughty vs. nice checklist.
Or worse yet, ask the sports gods for advice.