Savage Words: Friends, football and an emotional moment I’ll never forget

I’ve never been an Iowa Hawkeyes fan. Never really cared if they won or lost, no matter the sport.

But they’ve got something going on in Iowa City at home football games that I’ve wanted to see ever since it was introduced in 2017. It’s called The Wave, and it was worth the five-and-a-half-hour drive on Saturday to see it.

The University of Iowa’s Stead Family Children’s Hospital towers above Kinnick Stadium, home of the Hawkeyes. The upper levels of the hospital have a direct view into the stadium and onto the playing surface.

When the game clock strikes zero at the end of the first quarter at each home football game, all 70,000 fans in attendance turn to the Hospital, and wave to the youthful patients who are watching out the window.

It’s a heartwarming moment when you see it on television. When you see it in person, it literally puts a lump in your throat.

I went to Iowa City on Saturday with 10 other guys. A good friend does it each year with some very close friends of his. He invited me to join this year. Although I didn’t really know most of them, I took advantage of the generous offer to witness The Wave at Iowa.

We were fortunate to be in a suite at Kinnick Stadium, full of food and drink, friends and conversation. It was a party atmosphere for sure, and the definition of a Saturday afternoon with thousands of your closest friends at a college football game.

While we were all having a great time in the suite, I kept my eye on the game clock in the first quarter. As the minutes ticked away, I shuffled my way to the front of the suite. I really wanted to see The Wave when the clock struck 0:00.

As I got to the window with about 30 seconds to play in the quarter, I squinted, and saw a few of the young patients staring out the window with a tiny hand pressed against the glass.

Sure enough, as soon as the quarter ended, 70,000 fans in yellow and black turned to the little faces in the hospital windows and collectively waved. Even Iowa’s opponent on Saturday, the University of Troy, stopped their midfield and sideline huddles as players and coaches joined the wave.

As I watched in wonder, I found some emotions boiling up for me and I indeed had a lump in my throat. A tear, even, began to surface.

As I fought off some emotions, I actually almost dreaded turning around in the suite. I didn’t want my new found friends to see me fighting back any weak emotion I might be dealing with.

But as I turned around, I was relieved, humbled and content to see that I wasn’t the only one who was moved by the 70,000-strong gesture.

We had a blast on Saturday. I met friends that I hope I get to see again. But I couldn’t help but think about that little hand pressed against the window on the other side of the stadium. While we were all having fun, eating, drinking, and carrying-on, there were kids several stories up within my view that were pinned to a hospital bed with IVs in their arms. I hope the gesture of thousands waving to them gave them some joy, some relief, if even for just a few minutes.

I know this: Days like Saturday make me realize that I’m grateful I was on the side of the stadium that I was. No doubt there was a dad across the way dealing with medical setbacks that I hope I never know.

I also know that friendships come in all forms at all different times in our life. I sure won’t ever take them for granted.  

Thank you for the memorable weekend, fellas.