Nearly an hour after a pulse-quickening, almost preposterous Iowa Hawkeye victory over the Indiana Hoosiers a week ago, a small group of parents gathered under a statue of Nile Kinnick, waiting for their emotionally and physically exhausted sons to emerge from the stadium.

On the field, the Hawkeyes - clad in black, bulky in pads - look fierce and invulnerable.

Coming out to greet their families, they look like ordinary college kids, albeit larger and stronger on average.

Hugs and fist pumps were the order of the day, as they have been for nine straight weeks, in one of the wildest, most improbable roller-coaster rides of any season since Iowa began playing football in 1889.

There are 11 Quad-City area players on the 2009 Hawkeyes, ranging from valued walk-ons who rarely see the field, to entrenched starters in line to garner big post-season rewards.

While the young men absorb the hits and wear the bruises, their parents all say the psychological toll is higher on them.

"Embarrassingly, immaturely so," Scott Sandeman, father of junior wide receiver and former Bettendorf Bulldog standout Colin Sandeman, said when asked if watching is harder on him than playing is for Colin. "Sometimes, it's just absolutely overwhelming. But we have to keep in the back of our minds that these are kids, and sometimes they're going to fail on that big stage."

Much to everyone's delight and growing excitement, they haven't yet this season.

Not that it's been easy.

Marjorie Jones, the grandmother of Julian Vandervelde - a junior guard from Davenport Central who was thrust into a starting role in the middle of a vicious-hitting road game against Michigan State - said the nail-biting nature of the games this year is taking its toll.

"I'm getting too old for this - the last game, my heart just about quit," said Jones, who is legally blind and has her son come over and assist with the play-by-play. "When they won, we just went crazy. Jumped up and down and hugged each other. We could hear people screaming and setting off fireworks."

Cynthia Tobin, Julian's mom, said the peaks of success at Iowa are a new experience, after sitting through too many losing seasons watching Davenport Central play at Brady Street stadium. But Vandervelde, a standout singer, actor and academic whiz who was selected to the ESPN The Magazine/COSIDA Academic all-District Seven second all-America team with his 3.47 GPA, was born to wear the black and gold, Tobin said.

"When he was 5, he told us he wanted to go to college at Kinnick Stadium," she said. "So it's been a dream come true. He had an offer from Stanford, which was hard to turn down. But he's an Iowa boy at heart."

Putting in miles and putting up with harsh words

The life of a major college player parent is not easy.

Thousands of miles are logged on minivans and planes. Many of the parents go to all the away games, across the Midwest and beyond.

Cliff Angerer, father of standout senior linebacker Pat Angerer - another former Bettendorf Bulldog star - has lost track of the number of miles he's ridden in the family Ford Windstar with the PA43LB black and gold Hawkeye plates.

He used to get angry when opposing fans berated the Hawks or his son or tried to get under other player parents' skins. But not any more.

"I put my earphones on and listen to Gary Dolphin and Ed Podolak, and that kind of drowns them out," he said. "Let them say that garbage. I know my kid's out there giving it his all."

Angerer, known for his fierce play and intense on-field attitude, was turned into a linebacker through natural selection, Mary Angerer, his mom, said.

She was 40 when she got pregnant with Pat, and he was a bit of a surprise. His two older brothers are 6-foot-8 and 6-foot-3, respectively, and one is a former Marine. And they didn't play nice with the family newcomer.

"He had to survive those kids," Mary laughed. "When Pat went to kindergarten, he was one of the littlest, skinniest guys there. But he had to be tough. Even his sister is 6-foot-1."

Another source of angst can be the media, especially Internet message boards. Scott Sandeman said many parents of players do read the boards, which are full of gossip, speculation, criticism, cheering, rumors, truth and a general mishmash of disparate information.

"You can glean some information there you can't get anywhere else," he said. "On the other hand, much of it is misinformation. You try to read the good and ignore the bad and not be too influenced by it."

One thing Scott and Teri Sandeman were not able to avoid, over and over, after the Michigan State game were replays of their son getting knocked unconscious by a helmet-to-helmet blow delivered by a Spartan cornerback.

Both parents were in the cold and dark stands of Spartan Stadium when the hit happened.

"I saw the play setting up and saw the cornerback Colin couldn't see closing in on him, and I knew there was going to be a collision," Scott said. "It's a pretty horrific thing to see him get knocked out like that."

Colin lay unconscious on the turf for four minutes. Teri and Scott rushed down to his side and were there in time to see him regain consciousness.

"He woke up and knew who he was and where he was," he said. "Since then, I've watched him being knocked out (on replays) so many times, I can't hardly stand it any more."

Game day fun

But for every anxious moment, there is plenty of joy as well. Like most Iowa fans, the player parents like to tailgate and enjoy good food and maybe a few cocktails or beers before heading in to the game.

The Angerers typically hang out with the parents of former player Alex Kanellis, at their home within short walking distance of Kinnick. Kanellis - an Iowa City West graduate - had his career cut short by concussions, but he helped recruit Pat to Iowa because the pair knew each other from wrestling camps.

Cliff Angerer, however, always makes sure to head over to the stadium to greet the Iowa bus when it pulls up to Kinnick about two hours before the game, carrying the players. A big burly guy like his tough, burly son, Cliff still exhibits a soft underside.

"I always meet the bus and get a big hug from Pat," he said. "That's my favorite part of game day."

The Sandemans have friends with an RV and enjoy a prime spot in a lot just outside the stadium.

Cynthia Tobin isn't a big tailgater, but she relishes having the parent seats only about 10 rows behind her boy.

"We're right above where the guys are standing, we can single out our players and yell at them," she said. "They are coached to not turn around, but we know they can hear us."

A special season

When the season kicked off, Tobin said it was hard not seeing Julian start. As he gets more playing time, and the wins stack up, she can hardly contain her excitement.

"I really didn't expect them to be undefeated at this point, but Julian was very optimistic," she said.

"I'm really nervous. I talked to him after the Michigan State game and said that that must have been really nerve-wracking. But he said no, they knew they were going to win."

It's easier on the players - who get to run around and hit people and make plays - than it is on their folks, Cliff Angerer said. But that doesn't stop him from doing a little bragging.

"I have a bit of a coffee club at the Hy-Vee," said Cliff, who retired from Alcoa in 2003. "At the beginning of the season, the guys asked me what the team would do, and I said 12 and 0. I don't know if I was just being funny or what. I knew they were going to be a good team, but how good, I didn't know. But I tell you what, this team has a lot of 1character."

And it's pretty clear where it came from.