The Iron Skillet Game is Actually Kind of Great
So I went to the TCU-SMU game this year because I was in Dallas anyway and tickets were cheap and I figured why not, let’s see what this rivalry is about.
It’s called the Battle for the Iron Skillet. They literally play for a skillet. Like the thing you cook with. The trophy is a cast iron pan.
That’s either the dumbest or the greatest trophy in college football. I genuinely can’t decide.
But the game itself? Actually incredible atmosphere. I did not expect that.
See, here’s the thing about Dallas-Fort Worth: there’s a lot of football fans, and they’re not all committed to OU or Texas or whatever. There’s a huge contingent of people who grew up rooting for local teams. SMU people. TCU people. People who have opinions about which DFW suburb has better high school football.
When TCU and SMU play, all of those people come out of the woodwork. The stadium was packed. Both sides had energy. There was genuine trash talk happening around me. A guy in an SMU polo almost got in a fight with a guy in a TCU hoodie over something that happened in 1984.
1984! They’re still mad about stuff from 40 years ago!
That’s what makes a good rivalry. You don’t need history books to tell you it matters. You can feel it in the crowd. You can see it in the players’ faces. There’s actual hatred and actual pride at stake.
SMU won this year, which TCU fans REALLY don’t want to talk about. The Mustangs have gotten better under Rhett Lashlee, and TCU is in a down period. But you could tell it hurt. TCU fans were sick about it. Losing to SMU is apparently the worst thing that can happen.
Mike’s note: The Iron Skillet has been around since 1915 with some interruptions. It’s one of the older rivalry trophies in college football. The fact that it’s literally a kitchen utensil is either charming or ridiculous depending on your perspective.
I’m choosing charming. College football needs more absurd trophies. Play for a skillet. Play for a bell. Play for a wooden barrel. Make it weird. Make it matter.
The Iron Skillet matters. I’m a believer now.
— Jake