The Long Walk to Glory By: Jim Gandolf

The Long Walk to Glory

Poem

By:Jim Gandolf 

©️01212026

The limestone walls remember well

The seasons where the shadows fell.

Since nineteen-seventy one, I have stood

Through winters lean and Saturdays good,

Clinging to a Cream and Crimson thread IU

While experts wrote us off for dead.

I recall the chill of the autumn air,

My father’s hand, and  my stepmother there.

The "losing illness"—a heavy name

That followed us from game to game.

But through the losses, the bond grew deep,

A legacy of loyalty was mine to keep.

Then came the night the world turned 'round,

When Hoosier feet reclaimed the ground.

From the bottom rung to the highest peak,

The triumph that the patient seek.

The scoreboard flashed, the sirens rang,

And "Indiana, Our Indiana" the people sang.

But in the roar, a quiet space,

A longing for a familiar face.

To turn and see my father’s grin,

To feel the joy of the ultimate win.

Though they’ve moved on to a higher stand,

They held your heart, if not my hand.

It’s bittersweet, this golden glow,

Missing the ones who taught me to go.

But every yard and every score

Is part of the love they gave before.

The championship isn’t just a prize—

It’s the light of them in my cheering eyes.

Jim Gandolf 

Note: My Dad and Stepmom went to Indiana University and took my older brother, and  I to see the IU football games from an early age. 

As all my friends that were close to me over the years loved Notre Dame, and Alabama and I was always quiet cheering for Indian universities football team. The bragging of anything I had no place in that arena to brag except for once in a while Indiana university would win the Oaken bucket ! To which is a game between Purdue university and Indiana University  That’s all I had. 

When I got older I went to Indiana University Football games on my own account. 

These last two years have been completely amazing. 

To all my friends who went to IU, and I loved the experience of seeing all of you in that beautiful environment.

The Crimson Blanket’s Promise By:Jim Gandolf

The Crimson Blanket’s Promise

Poem

By: Jim Gandolf 

©️01092025

The Saturdays began in a joyful rush,

A hectic dance your father knew so well.

The packing of the car, the morning’s hush,

With stories only Bloomington could tell.

The cookies packed, a sweet and vital hoard,

To soften blows of scores that didn’t lean

Toward the Hoosier side upon the board—

But still, I wore the Cream and Crimson sheen.

My stepmom cheered through every heavy loss,

Her loyalty a flame that wouldn’t die.

She didn’t mind the grit, the turn, the toss,

Or clouds that gathered in the autumn sky.

Wrapped in that wool, the crimson blanket’s fold,

I sat between my brother and my dad.

The wins were few, or so the stories told,

But those were some of the best days I had.

The "worst in football" was a label worn,

Like fading jerseys in the freezing rain.

But from those quiet years, a soul was born,

A strength that grew from every ounce of pain.

The moves were made, the tide began to turn,

The underdog began to find its bite.

The fire that they said would never burn

Is lighting up the stadium tonight.

Now Indiana stands upon the crest,

Undefeated, proud, and heading for the throne. Number one in the nation IU stands. 

They’ve proven they can run among the best,

With talent that the world has never known.

And as they face Miami for the ring,

In this electric, golden atmosphere,

I; Jimmy, feel the joy that victory can bring,

And wish with all my heart that they were here.

But look toward the stands, the empty seat,

The ghost of cookies and that woolly red.

They saw the glory long before the feat,

In every "maybe next year" that they said.

They’re with me in the roar, the chant, the pride,

As IU takes the field to claim the day.

With every yard and every giant stride,

They’re cheering from a stadium far away.

Jim Gandolf