The author, John Marek, is a writer and executive director of the Anson Economic Development Partnership.
On Nov. 12, 1994, my wife Janet and I sat high in the stands of Bowling Green’s Doyt Perry Stadium for what we believed would be the coronation of our alma mater as Mid American Conference champions and a spot in the Las Vegas Bowl. We had already made the decision to attend that bowl game, had even looked into the cost of the plane tickets and hotel. The Falcons had won nine straight games since a 20-15 opening-week loss to NC State, and had crushed their opponents by an average of nearly three touchdowns. The only thing on that Saturday afternoon standing between us and a trip to Las Vegas was a decent, but unassuming, Central Michigan team. Although the Chippewas entered the game 8-2, and just a game behind the Falcons in the standings, their season had been one of close wins over mediocre teams and no one gave them much of a chance against high-flying Bowling Green.
I don’t suppose I need to tell you how it went. The Chippewas came out of the gate fast and furious and held a two-score lead for much of the game. A fourth-quarter rally, however, had Bowling Green down by just three with under five minutes to play and Central punting from deep in its own territory. The Falcons were sure to get the ball back near midfield for a chance at a game-winning, or worst case, game-tying score. But they didn’t. Central Michigan’s punter, who it turned out was also a running back in high school, took the snap, made one step as though to kick the ball away, and then cut to his right and ran 98 yards down the sideline for a touchdown and a 10-point lead. The Falcons would add a late touchdown, but lost 36-33.
In those days, there were only 20 or so bowl games and every team with a winning record didn’t earn some kind of bowl bid. Central Michigan went to the Las Vegas Bowl and Bowling Green, 9-2 with respectable wins over Navy and Cincinnati, stayed home. Janet and I were bitterly disappointed and vowed that we would attend the next bowl game Bowling Green played in, no matter where it was.
As it turned out, that Central Michigan game started Falcon football on a downward spiral and it would be almost a decade before the team earned a bowl bid. And that’s how on the day after Christmas 2003, Janet and l found ourselves on a plane bound for Detroit and the Motor City Bowl.
For those not familiar with the geography of the Great Lakes region, Detroit is 90 minutes north of Bowling Green on I-75. In other words, not exactly a big treat for the Falcon faithful … or for certain alumni from North Carolina who got on the plane at 50 degrees and got off at 25. At least the game was indoors at Ford Field. The Falcons beat Northwestern that day, 28-24, to much fanfare from a raucous “hometown” crowd.
I bring all this up because that trip is the only time in the 25 years we have lived in North Carolina that we have traveled north for Christmas, until this year. If 2020 seems like an odd time to be breaking that streak, well, it is, but there are extenuating circumstances. Janet’s father has been very ill the past few months, and she believes this will be his last Christmas. I understand her logic, but, wow, is it an unfortunate time to be traveling.
As for my family, my only remaining sibling lives about three hours from Janet’s father, and we are going to take a day to drive over and see him. I also have some nieces and nephews (and great nieces and great nephews, and one great-great niece) in that vicinity, but in an attempt to limit contact for the sake of Janet’s father, we’re going to skip them this visit.
It’s going to be a strange Christmas for everyone. Maybe you are able to stay at home in front of the fireplace, but if you are venturing out to be with extended family, remember to mask up, keep your distance and use that hand sanitizer liberally. I know I will.