Like most people of my generation, my autumn Saturdays revolved around watching the Hawks play. As I hope everyone remembers, back then they were led by the man- Hayden Fry. After the games we would retire to the yard to recreate the plays we had just witnessed. Being the runt of the DeBerg litter- I don’t mind telling you I was no stranger to the occasional smack-down by my older cousin Matt. Like the Hawks- I always managed to recover… the Hawks of the eighties and early nineties that is.

I wish I could be as hopeful for the current Hawkeye teams. Plagued by everything from legal woes to recruiting nightmares to questionable coaching, it begs the question will we ever recover. I believe so.

By my estimation there are aspects of Iowa life that don’t change. The grass will turn green in the spring and the corn will be “knee high” by the Fourth of July. Ragbrai will make corporate executives into weekend warriors, and neighbors will always be nearby to lend a helping hand. And like a younger, outmatched RYAN DeBerg laying on his back counting stars after a massive hit from his cousin, the Hawkeyes will get up, dust themselves off, and get back in the game. That is what it means to be a Hawkeye.