'Anything's Possible': Indiana Football's Big Ten Championship 58 Years in the Making

INDIANAPOLIS — Four minutes before the clock struck midnight Saturday, Curt Cignetti strolled into Indiana football's locker room, his smile wide and his face brimming with joy.

And his black Adidas shoes — the same ones he'd used to step from the sideline to midfield for a postgame handshake, to enter the world of immortality, to walk up the stairs and onto the Big Ten Championship celebration stage — glossed over shreds of cream and crimson-colored confetti in Lucas Oil Stadium's north tunnel.

Cignetti's path had already been cleared by a steady stream of Indiana players, each wearing a crimson Big Ten Championship T-shirt, a gold Big Ten Championship medal and a white Big Ten Championship hat still so freshly acquired that most still had the manufacturing company's logo dangling from them.

Indiana didn't have to worry about whether the glass slipper fit. These Hoosiers aren't a Cinderella team, they're now the nation's best. Now, after beating No. 1 Ohio State, 13-10, in the Big Ten title game Saturday night at Lucas Oil Stadium, they have the hardware to prove it.

"It's another step we needed to take as a program," Cignetti said postgame. "We're going to go in the playoffs as the No. 1 seed, and a lot of people probably thought that wasn't possible. But when you get the right people and you have a plan and they love one another and play for one another and they commit, anything's possible.

"And I think that's what you saw happen here."

No matter how much the reminders encompassed the surroundings, none of it seemed real, seemed feasible, for the program which, just one month prior, shook its title as college football's all-time losingest.

The postgame scene at Lucas Oil Stadium was fit for a celebration 58 years in the making, dating back to Indiana's last Big Ten title in 1967. Players stormed to the Hoosiers' student section and celebrated with fans and family members while confetti fell.

All the while, stadium staff set up Indiana's next party house: A black stage positioned on the same part of the field where Ohio State kicker Jayden Fielding's 27-yard field goal sailed wide left with less than three minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, one of the final nails that sealed the Buckeyes' coffin.

On the stage, Indiana teammates led chants of "Heismendoza" in support of quarterback Fernando Mendoza, they sang "Indiana, Our Indiana," with the crowd and they watched as Cignetti hoisted the silver Big Ten Championship football trophy above his head, flashing perhaps the biggest smile he's let slip through two years in Bloomington.

Cignetti, who admitted he's a "what's next kind of guy" and was more intent on fulfilling other responsibilities, said he'd save most of his celebration for after his postgame press conference. His players didn't.

Sophomore receiver Charlie Becker, who grew up an Ohio State fan after his father played for the Buckeyes, said he hopes to remember most of what proved to be a hectic hour of partying.

"I was on cloud nine," Becker said postgame. "I love this. It's awesome. It's unlike anything, and I'm just truly blessed."

The unlikeliness of Indiana's ascent from bottom-feeder to powerhouse is matched only by the players who've fueled it. The "misfits" and "rejects," as Mendoza dubbed the group after beating Purdue the week prior, who joined forces from James Madison University, from junior colleges, from mid-major programs and everywhere in between.

Indiana's celebration on stage wasn't just to meet the moment. It was to honor the hardships that made such moments possible.

"It just reminded me of where we came from," senior running back Kaelon Black said. "We were at FCS at first. Guys who were unranked in high school. This is just something you live for. This is what you play in video games. It's just amazing. It just feels great."

Black's backfield mate, senior Roman Hemby, lived through four years at Maryland where he finished 12-24 in Big Ten play. Hemby had long dreamed of playing in the Big Ten championship game but didn't know if he'd ever get the chance.

On Saturday night, well after midnight, Hemby sat at a table just outside Indiana's locker room, still wearing his championship T-shirt, basking in the glory of a brotherhood and victory he says will "stick with me for my lifetime."

"It feels like a culmination of all my prayers coming together," Hemby said. "I've been through a lot, and I was able to finally win the big one, the one that I really wanted to win in my career. The last hour is just me kind of sitting and reflecting.

"Everything that I put into the game, the game has given back to me to be in this position."

Mendoza had an expansive group of family members waiting for his presence in the postgame tunnel, and he admitted it meant "a ton" for his mom, dad and several others to make the trip.

But Mendoza also appreciated the support of his adopted family: Hoosier Nation. Indiana fans, he said, gave the offense a jolt of momentum on big plays and made life difficult for Ohio State's offense on third and fourth downs.

Mendoza, perhaps more emotional than he's been at any step this season, noted the improbability of Indiana's Big Ten title while addressing the crowd. He was met with a warm, enthusiastic response.

The Miami native, an unheralded recruit who spent the first three years of his college career at California and cemented his spot as the Heisman Trophy frontrunner Saturday night, considers himself one of the misfits. He's now chief among them, and he recognized the gratitude of breaking free from shackles set during the 57 years prior to his reign.

"I think what makes this moment so special tonight, not just myself and my family, but for everybody, is just the community of Bloomington," Mendoza said, "and how long they've waited for this and how much it means to everybody."

Indiana entered the week confident, insisting it no longer viewed itself as scrappy underdogs. Though Becker said Ohio State carried the perception of being "unbeatable" by pundits, Indiana stuck to its process. Cignetti emphasized stringing together 150 quality plays Saturday night, and the Hoosiers went toe-to-toe with the Buckeyes for 60 minutes.

Last season, Indiana learned the razor thin margin of error that exists in heavyweight clashes. The Hoosiers and Buckeyes played an incredibly even game, but Indiana won the margins. The Hoosiers outgained the Buckeyes, 340-322, and averaged six yards per play to Ohio State's 5.8. Indiana converted 6 of 11 attempts on third down, Ohio State only 4 of 11.

The Hoosiers didn't allow a point for the final 40 minutes. Ohio State twice marched into the redzone in the second half, but failed to score both times — once due to Fielding's missed field goal, the other a thwarted quarterback sneak by Julian Sayin.

Indiana didn't need pixie dust. The Hoosiers merely needed to do as they've done several times this season: Finish close games.

At halftime, Cignetti challenged his team to prove it had enough to win a physical, gut-check game. He warned Indiana's toughness and persistence would be tested. Yet the Hoosiers never cowered. Instead, they pounced — proving Cignetti right and many others wrong.

"I think this was the final nail in the coffin for any of the Indiana doubters, Curt Cignetti doubters, the Hoosier doubters," linebacker Isaiah Jones said postgame. "I think this was the last thing that needed to be proved. And I think we did it."

The confetti serves as proof. It rested on the field inside Lucas Oil Stadium several hours after it fell from the ceiling, and it scattered across the floor in the Hoosiers' otherwise empty locker room — another indication the party didn't stop when players disappeared from the field and went into their sacred grounds.

Saturday night — with all its song-singing, Heisman-chanting, history-making, career-defining moments — will forever be etched not only into Hoosier record books, but in each strand of cream and crimson-colored paper littered throughout Lucas Oil Stadium.

And, perhaps more importantly, it won't soon leave the minds of players who lived through dark days to savor the brightest of lights and grandest of celebrations in downtown Indianapolis.

"Whew" Indiana right tackle Kahlil Benson said, adjusting his championship hat while walking through the tunnel. "That's crazy."