Atlanta will be a cherished checkpoint for fans of what might be college football’s all-time most remarkable tale.
Indiana is headed to the national championship. As if that wasn’t inconceivable enough, they earned their berth before their hearty, spirited fan base that few outside the state knew was waiting to explode.
The group consumed almost the entirety of Mercedes-Benz Stadium while their team decimated Oregon with what observers would consider relative ease.
“There is no one like the IU fans; our fan base is incredible,” Elsa Mendoza, the mother of Hoosiers’ Heisman-winning quarterback Fernando Mendoza, told The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. For decades, that comment would’ve been met with ensuing laughter.
In 2026, it’s hard to argue.
The Hoosiers toppled Oregon 56-22 in Friday’s Peach Bowl, earning the chance to duel Miami for college football immortality next week. There are a striking number of layers to this Indiana run.
Yes, it’s borderline unfathomable they’re in this position, even after we’ve watched them notch wins over Oregon (twice), Ohio State and Alabama.
Yes, it’s another dagger in SEC fans’ hearts as the Big Ten is positioned to potentially earn its third straight championship while our local conference again stands idle. Ohio State winning the title here a year ago was damaging enough to the Southern ego; now we’ve got the Big Ten’s Kentucky equivalent celebrating on our turf.
And yes, it’s a further indictment on college football’s new era, where the Indianas of the world can dream big while the Georgias and Ohio States can no longer carry such lavish depth charts.
But Atlanta witnessed perhaps the most impressive element of them all: Indiana coach Curt Cignetti awakened a giant no one knew was in slumber. The Hoosiers’ off-field rejuvenation extends beyond their state borders.
Southern Californians saw it in the Rose Bowl last week. We just saw it. South Floridians will see it soon.
“We didn’t have an idea (how many IU fans would be here) until we pulled into the stadium,” Fernando Mendoza Sr. told the AJC. “It was a couple of hours before the game and all we saw was a sea of red. I caught a couple of (Oregon) green shirts, but man, it was all red. These guys travel really, really well. We saw them go out to Los Angeles and the Rose Bowl was full. It’s impressive.”
Hoosiers are known basketball enthusiasts. It’s a good sports state overall, from hosting events like the Indianapolis 500 and NFL Scouting Combine to becoming nationally relevant with Peyton Manning’s Colts, to outsiders becoming well-acquainted with their appreciation for the almost-always competitive Pacers (this gap year notwithstanding) and, recently, Caitlin Clark’s Fever.
Yet, Hoosiers football has never mattered in the collegiate landscape.
Credit: AP
Credit: AP
They sure do now. And they’ve earned supporters abound.
When Indiana opened Friday’s game with a pick-six, there was an enthusiasm unleashed in Mercedes-Benz Stadium that was unlike anything heard throughout this fall. Indeed, our city was invaded by loud-and-proud Hoosiers, who supplied MBS with vigor similar to that experienced when Georgia plays in the venue.
“Shout out to Hoosiers nation,” Mendoza said. “We played at Autzen Stadium (in Oregon) and had (seven) pre-snap penalties. That’s huge, that’s one of the ways you can lose a game. So not having to go on silent count because of Hoosier nation being here, and making them go on silent count, that’s a huge aspect of the game and offensive operation that isn’t talked about enough.”
ESPN suggested 80% of the crowd was of Indiana persuasion. That might’ve been an underestimation. This was a takeover of the grandest proportions. Indiana football has arrived at the biggest scale.
If one attended the game as a neutral, you might’ve caught yourself repeating “Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoosiers!” on your way out of the arena.
Let Oregon quarterback Dante Moore, a projected top-5 NFL draft choice who struggled mightily, provide the perspective opposite of Mendoza’s.
“I thought it was just red seats (at first), but it was the Indiana fans,” he said. “They had a ton of fans here. … We thought we could go verbal, speak in cadence, but it was pretty loud. We were prepared for loud situations, but they came out and showed out.”
The past two SEC championship games, in the days of the 12-team College Football Playoff, have admittedly been a bit sterile, even with the home-state Bulldogs winning both. There’s been endless dialogue around the SEC championship’s importance, and fans simply aren’t as engaged in those games as they once were.
This venue has hosted other college football events, including the rabid Tennessee Volunteers fan base to start this season, but nothing this year compared to the Indiana takeover. It’s fair to argue this Indiana fan experience is incomparable with these others, given the history and the stakes, but they’ll get kudos here for answering the call during their team’s shocking ascension.
The Falcons played nine home games here, never eliciting this level of passion from attendees (that probably doesn’t come as a surprise). In fact, the most energetic NFL game played here was likely the one when the Falcons hosted the Bills, as the visitors staged their own stadium takeover before departing with a loss. Perhaps one day the Falcons will earn the type of support in this building that this Hoosiers team had.
Indiana fanatics put on a show. They’re living out a dream, someone’s College Football 26 dynasty mode brought to real life, and they’re responding to this historical anomaly with one of their own: Hoosiers football fans, forgotten for our entire lives, regardless of your age, now carry themselves like SEC elites.
Indiana has the largest living alumni base in the United States, some will note, but that doesn’t ensure passion, even when the winning comes. This is a testament to the state, the alumni and the fans who’ve realized a reality that, three years ago, they likely wouldn’t have even believed was conceivable.
Cignetti, take a bow. Put on a crown. Indiana should take some of that free-flowing Mark Cuban money and erect the statue. Maybe they should rename Bloomington after him. Maybe they should rename the Indianapolis Colts after him.
What Cignetti has done with one of American sports’ presumed forever bottom-feeders is among the greatest accomplishments we’ve witnessed. And Atlanta saw how the impressiveness extends even beyond the on-field results and into the stands.
Once a desolate site, Indiana home games are now cool. Once a team with very little fan presence, the Hoosiers are overwhelming Los Angeles, Atlanta and soon Miami.
And given how their team looks right now, the Hoosiers fans might have even more reason to celebrate soon. Atlanta would always be a key part of that story.
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