In which the Blob was wrong about his Ball State Cardinals, only not really, because if they did NOT shock the damn world, they did rock Brandon Wimbush's world a few times, and maybe gave Knute Rockne's statue a couple of facial tics here and there, and ran around the hallowed Notre Dame turf without soiling it or leaving unsightly chalk outlines on the premises.
In other words, they lost.
But not, you know, 66-7 or eleventy-hundred to 13 or anything like that.
No, sir. The final was 24-16, and if the Cards really didn't cause the Irish any moments of true alarm, they did cause a contusion or two, particularly defensively. Running back James Gilbert ran for 72 yards. Quarterback Riley Neal played with guts and verve and a defiant stubbornness. And the gambling, blitzing Cardinals D took on Wimbush and the Irish offense and earned at least a draw.
Sacked Brandon four times, the defense did, and picked him three times. Hurried him four other times. Recorded 10 tackles for loss. Absolutely stuffed the Irish run game, yielding just 2.8 yards per carry.
I don't know what this will do for Mike Neu's program going forward. But I do know it certainly couldn't have hurt to show up and play the way the Cardinals played in front of a national TV audience. What kid wouldn't want to play for a program that displayed so much grit and want-to and plain old non-lay-down-ishness?
So good on ya, dear alma mater. You fought the good fight. Once again you showed the world -- as did Eastern Michigan, 20-19 upset winners just down the road at Purdue -- that you don't ever, ever, ever sleep on the Mid-American Conference.
As David Letterman was always so fond of saying: The cardinal is the fiercest of the robin-sized birds.
Chirp. Chirp.
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