Canceled in the Heartland


A funny — no, not “ha, ha” funny, but highly unusual — thing took place this past Saturday night here in the great Heart of the American Heartland, Ames, Iowa. We had a whole lot of rain. And a whole lot of lightning. And a whole lot of thunder.

Now, none of that is atypical this time of year around these parts. Indeed, everyone here relies on periodic thunder-boomers during the summer months to keep our lawns and flowers alive and well — and, more importantly, to keep Iowa’s abundant crops growing. You might have heard that we’re pretty important when it comes to soybeans and corn, and you might also guess that water is needed to grow those commodities.

But unlike growers in the arid West, farmers here rely on  Mother Nature to keep their crops going. Canals do not dot our landscape, nor are farms using giant pumps to bring up water from underground aquifers. Nope, it’s water from the sky that keeps our ag economy thriving, and the good news this summer is that there’s been plenty of wet stuff dropping from the sky since we arrived in early June. In fact, we’ve had more than 25 inches of rain in the past three months, and some of that came last night.

The problem was, last night’s precipitation brought with it an over-abundance of lightning and thunder. And athletes do not enjoy playing when lightning and thunder are anywhere near them. They do not enjoy that because they may get seriously hurt, or worse.

And, you see, last night the Cyclone football team of Iowa State University was scheduled to open its season here in Ames at Jack Trice Stadium against South Dakota State. Trust me, Ames was pumped up and ready for that game because expectations for this season, under coach Matt Campbell, are sky-high. Everyone here remembers that the Cyclones defeated both Oklahoma and TCU last year — the two teams who just happened to play for the Big 12 title at the end of the season. And then the Cyclones went and defeated a quite-good Memphis team in a bowl game.

So here we are, starting the new season with dreams of — well, who knows? The Cyclones are most likely not good enough or deep enough to get into the college football Final Four this season, but they’re good enough and deep enough to cause much misery for teams that do aspire to get there — teams such as, yes, Oklahoma and TCU.

And there they were, last night, thousands of fans jamming Jack Trice Stadium around 7 p.m., ready for Their Favorite Team to start dismantling South Dakota State. After that expected-demolition, the Iowa Hawkeyes loom next weekend in Iowa City — but the Really Big Event is scheduled for Sept. 15, when mighty Oklahoma treks to Ames. Now, THAT’s a  game.

Except that South Dakota State was not dismantled last night. No, Iowa State did not lose — at least, not to the Jackrabbits (yes, for those who do not know — that’s the SD team’s nickname. Oh, well.) Both ISU and the Rabbits lost — to Mother Nature, who put on quite an offensive show, indeed. The Big Mama unleashed a mighty torrent of lightning, and that prompted officials to stop play barely four minutes into the first quarter. Yes, ISU was ahead, 7-0 — and, yes, everyone expected the game to resume in a short time. After all, most thunderstorms around here blow in and out in an hour or so.

But not this one. No, this baby kept hanging around, and it produced thunderbolt after  thunderbolt, for hours. And with the weather experts saying all of that bad stuff was just going to continue, the game was canceled. That’s right — the game was called off, and everything that had taken place — which, admittedly, was not much — was wiped out. It never happened, and it will never show up in any record books.

It was the first time an Iowa State football game had been canceled in 55 years. The last time was on Nov. 23, 1963 — the day after President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. ISU was supposed to play Drake University — but that game never took place.

This Saturday night’s cancellation was the talk of the town on Sunday morning — at least, inside Café Diem on Main Street, where I headed after my usual morning walk through Old Town. The barista had been at the game — and wisely left soon after it was halted, rather than wait for hours until the cancellation was made official. Several of the morning’s coffee customers in line behind me weighed in about the Game that Wasn’t and about the hellacious thunderstorm that kept rocking Ames until well past midnight.

We’re used to thunderstorms here, and, yes, they’re needed for our ag economy and for our gardens. But last night’s momentous blast was a bit too much for all of us — largely because of the timing, of course. Our next home football game is scheduled in two weeks — against, yes, mighty Oklahoma. We have tickets for that one (we had  fortuitously stayed home last night) — and we hope it’s not asking too much for a few hours of dry, non-threatening weather then — just enough time to shock the football world again with another “upset.”

At least — it will be an upset outside Ames.