I am a Hoosier. I was raised on Indiana athletics, and like most Hoosiers, I am first and foremost a basketball fan. It is in my blood. My grandfather was an Indiana University Academic All-American and my father became the team doctor, which meant long periods of my childhood were spent in the stands of Assembly Hall.
We went to football games too. However, Indiana was known as one of the worst programs in the country. We showed up anyway. We were always expected to respect the athletes, remain humble, and demonstrate character in victory or defeat.
I’ve lived in Mississippi for over 30 years now and love the atmosphere of intensity that surrounds college football in our state. But my attachment to Indiana and IU has never faded, texting my late father during games, returning whenever I can, and watching my Mississippi-raised daughter choose IU, partly to be close to her sports-loving grandfather.
Admittedly, it is from this place of deep loyalty and affection that I ask you to consider the remarkable and unlikely story of Indiana football this year and what we can all learn about what truly matters in sports or life.
Indiana has had one of the most unsuccessful football programs in the history of the sport. But we Hoosiers are, for once, daring to believe otherwise. Our story probably begins with the 64-year-old Curt Cignetti, who took his first major head coaching job when Indiana hired him in 2023.
Cignetti has been patient and paid his dues, developing his coaching skills while working for great coaches like Alabama’s Nick Saban. Saban has been one of his biggest fans, praising Cignetti for the way his teams perform at a high level, while also building long term relationships with his coaches and players. Cignetti has also become known for his ability to evaluate and recruit a specific kind of player, prioritizing character and toughness over raw ability. He believes in recruiting players who are committed, industrious, and treat the game and their teammates, with respect. The result at IU has been the assembly of an unlikely collection of under-recognized transfer-portal “brothers.”
At the center of it all is a quarterback no powerhouse program wanted out of high school. Not a five-star. Not a headline player. Instead, Fernando Mendoza first distinguished himself as a student, earning a business degree and now an MBA from two of the Top 10 Business Schools in the country (Berkley’s Haas and Indiana’s Kelley School).
In his Heisman Trophy acceptance speech, he thanked God, the Heisman committee, and made it clear that was not an individual achievement. The Heisman, he said, was a team award that he shared with “my brothers.” He then addressed his mother, telling her that she was his “light,” the person who “taught me toughness doesn’t need to be loud, it can be quiet and strong," referring to her battle with MS. He then graciously thanked his Cuban emigree grandparents…in Spanish.
That gratitude and appreciation of his team has been repeatedly on display this season. At the Rose Bowl, when Indiana’s offensive lineman Pat Coogan was named Offensive MVP (a rarity, in itself), the first question he was asked by a sideline report was why he thought he’d won the award. His answer was simple and revealing: “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t put it past Fernando to have put a bug in somebody’s ear. That’s the kind of guy he is.” Another lineman who was interviewed called Coogan the heart of the team, the one who gives the best inspirational speeches, the one players would “run through a wall for.”
Mendoza recently shared what he believes has created this culture, this incredible about-face in the IU program: delayed gratification, self-discipline, process, and preparing each week as if this game, this moment, is the championship. “I think this team has done a great job of keeping that delayed gratification at the forefront,” he said. Among other things, that discipline may be why Indiana ranks at the very top among fewest penalties this season.
Those values apply all the way down the depth chart. Cignetti and his coaches make it clear that the next man up has to be as prepared as the man before him. One of IU’s defensive stars was injured in November, forcing true freshman Daniel Ndukwu into the spotlight. This past Friday night in the Peach Bowl, Ndukwu responded to his new responsibilities by producing some of the best defensive stats of the season: two sacks, a forced fumble, and a blocked punt. A fellow lineman, a more experienced Tyrique Tucker, said post-game, “That’s my boy.” “To see him go out there and put it all together, it was big, and I am proud of him.”
This unlikely band of portal brothers didn’t arrive at IU as stars. They weren’t handed greatness. Consider that the Oregon team they just defeated has 55 blue chip players. Indiana only has eight, and none are considered five-star. What Indiana has is discipline, a tremendous work ethic, a unique and selfless culture, and a deep-seated belief in the team. That’s what, in my humble opinion, has helped them find that elusive je ne sais quoi, that special something only a few teams in history ever capture. We still talk about the 1980 U.S. Hockey Team’s Miracle on Ice and the 1954 Indiana state champion Milan High School basketball team, made famous by the movie Hoosiers, for this very reason.
When all is said and done:
Indiana chose hard work over hype.
Indiana chose team values over egos.
Indiana chose modesty over flashiness.
In a society where these virtues already feel endangered, maybe we should all pause to consider what this remarkable football team can teach us about life beyond sports or what sports can be when we make the game about these virtues.
Basking In the Glory Old IU.
Stephanie Garriga is a Northsider.
