The Minnesota Golden Gophers (4-2) got trounced, 41-13, by the Purdue Boilermakers (3-3) on Saturday, effectively wiping out any positive buzz remaining from the previous week’s win over Michigan.
The Ugly
Where do I even begin?
I think I’ll start with 183. That is the average number of rushing yards per game the Purdue defense had allowed through their first five games. Minnesota rushed for a total of 27 yards.
Next: 35. That is the average number of points per game the Boilermaker defense had surrendered through
their first five games. The Gopher offense was only able to score 13.
How about 195? Former Minnesota running back Fame Ijeboi rushed for 195 yards and three touchdowns, averaging 6.3 yards per carry. As you will recall, Ijeboi opted to enter the transfer portal when it became clear he would not be the featured back in the Gophers’ offense this season.
That brings us to 15. That was the total number of rushing yards by Minnesota’s “featured back.”
I would also like to talk about 464. That is the total number of yards surrendered by the Gopher defense. If you can believe it, 310 of those yards were accumulated before halftime.
Let’s talk about some smaller numbers, like 7. The number of penalties against Minnesota, two of which were egregious, both coming in the second quarter. Center Greg Johnson getting tagged for unsportsmanlike conduct after the whistle, turning 2nd & 5 at the Purdue 34-yard line into 1st & 20 at the 49-yard line. And then linebacker Matt Kingsbury shoving Ijeboi after a play had been blown dead, turning a -2 loss into a 15-yard gain thanks to an unnecessary roughness penalty.
Another one: 2. The number of times the Gophers turned the ball over. Quarterback Drake Lindsey threw an interception in the closing seconds of the first half, and then Javon Tracy muffed a punt return late in the fourth quarter to gift the Purdue offense the ball at the Minnesota 10-yard line.
The Gopher defense forced no turnovers.
This was, without a doubt, one of the most pathetic and embarrassing performances of the P.J. Fleck era. What’s worse is that it was entirely predictable. I didn’t want to believe it. I predicted a win. But I knew in the back of my mind that for every high Fleck delivers, a sucker punch is waiting right around the corner.
Nothing ever changes, especially P.J.’s best.
The Meh
N/A
The Elite
Tom Weston. The punter is innocent.
