The Big Ten takes its football rivalry trophies quite seriously. Schools in the conference play football in the name of Freedom and Heroes and the Heartland (and also Land Grants?); all of it is extremely organized and important.
But seven years ago the Internet birthed a Big Ten rivalry trophy that was much less formal and much more weird than any that had come before it.
This is the story of the Big Ten’s greatest and most random rivalry trophy: The $5 Bits of Broken Chair.
A Trophy Is Born
It all started with a tweet, obviously.
It was November 2014, the week of the annual Nebraska-Minnesota game. I was waiting in line at Einstein Bros. Bagels, mindlessly checking Twitter as usual, when a proposal buzzed in from Minnesota mascot Goldy Gopher:
A friendly wager? Sure, why not. I was next in line to order my food so I didn’t have much time to think about it, but the furniture in the dining area gave me a quick inspiration:
I didn’t think much of it. But a couple minutes later Goldy changed the course of history:
Goldy then took it a step further and issued a request to the universe:
I promise none of this was choreographed or even discussed ahead of time. I did not walk into Einstein’s that morning expecting to be part of anything other than a cup of coffee and a bagel, but sometimes man doesn’t choose fate, fate chooses man.
Reddit took it from there and folks immediately got to work on ideas and prototypes. In the end an actual trophy was built in Minneapolis:
It was glorious. But would it catch on?
2014 and 2015
The first two years of the trophy were promising.
Minnesota won the first game of the Broken Chair era and took home the hardware:
In 2015 the Huskers won the trophy back, and it was exchanged by the mascots in Minneapolis:
Even Husker coach Mike Riley basked in the glory of the Broken Chain in the locker room:
It seemed the Broken Chair had become a thing.
But Then Something Bad Happened
After an eventful first couple of years, the Broken Chair was notably absent from the 2016 game in Lincoln. On game day it was nowhere to be found — not on the sidelines, not in the locker room, not anywhere.
Conspiracy theories emerged, most of them pointing the finger at Nebraska. The trophy had last been seen in Lincoln after all, and Nebraska wasn’t offering up any explanations.
There is indeed a story behind the 2016 disappearance of the Broken Chair. I was made aware of what happened by a few people in both programs, but was asked to keep things quiet for a while.
Since five years have passed, it’s time to let the world know this: It was all Minnesota’s fault.
No, seriously.
Nebraska agreed to “misplace” the trophy prior to the 2016 game at the request of a particular individual within the Minnesota football program who did not appreciate the magic of the Broken Chair. He thought the whole thing was silly and pointless and wanted it to go away.
I am not a spiteful guy, but I wish this person a lifetime of broken dreams and busted furniture.
A Triumphant Return
Despite the Minnesota villain’s attempts to squash the Broken Chair, a new version of the trophy was brought to life by some guys in Lincoln in 2017. Broken Chair 2.0 is shiny and beautiful and very much exists (see the photo at the top of this post).
Best of all, there’s now a fundraiser attached to this whole thing. The internet remains undefeated.
And so the Broken Chair lives on in an unofficial capacity. Perhaps that’s the way the trophy should exist — promoted by the fans and not the universities, beloved behind the scenes. Maybe the Big Ten Conference would suck the life out of the Broken Chair if it formally adopted the thing.
It should, though.
Why did I show you this photo album of the Broken Chair? I don’t know. Even though I played only a tiny role in making it happen, I guess I want to see the trophy live on. One fun-hater in Minnesota shouldn’t be able to delete something this cool from the college football universe.
And maybe there are things to be learned from the saga of the Broken Chair. Like take more chances, or don’t give up, or buy more bagels.
Or maybe the lesson is that there are some ideas that seem small and silly at first, but really just need one person (or a gopher) to believe in them, to propel them forward, to breathe life into them and make them real.
So next time you’re struck with an idea like that, think of the Broken Chair before you dismiss it. The universe (or at least the internet) may be standing by to help.
Cool story, Faux
F Jerry or Tracy. Go Gophers. Long live the chair.