Who Remembers That Rain-Soaked Classic When Ohio State Knocked Off No. 1 Iowa 22-13 on November 2, 1985?

It was the kind of day that defines Big Ten football—gray skies, steady rain, and two heavyweight programs clashing with everything on the line. November 2, 1985, has long been etched in Ohio State football lore as one of those unforgettable afternoons where heart, grit, and tradition collided in front of a drenched but electric Horseshoe crowd.

For the 87,176 fans packed into Ohio Stadium that rainy Saturday, the weather was a mere inconvenience compared to the stakes. The No. 1 team in the nation, the Iowa Hawkeyes, rolled into Columbus carrying the weight of perfection, boasting an 8-0 record, a Heisman-contending quarterback in Chuck Long, and dreams of a national title. But they left battered, beaten, and their championship hopes soaked away by a relentless Ohio State defense and the sheer will of a Buckeyes squad that refused to be denied.

The Buckeyes, unranked in the national polls at kickoff but fueled by a 6-2 record and the fiery determination of head coach Earle Bruce, stunned the college football world with a 22-13 victory that still resonates nearly four decades later.

For those who braved the elements that day—whether as a student, alum, die-hard fan, or curious spectator—it became a badge of honor. The rain fell steadily, turning the field into a slick, muddy proving ground, but the atmosphere never wavered. Ponchos, umbrellas, and soaked scarlet and gray jerseys filled the stands, as the Buckeye faithful roared with every defensive stand, every critical play, and every inch earned on the drenched turf.

The game itself was an old-school slugfest—a true testament to the toughness synonymous with Big Ten football. Ohio State’s game plan was simple but brutally effective: control the clock, pound the football, and suffocate Iowa’s high-powered offense. It worked to perfection.

Quarterback Jim Karsatos managed the game with poise, throwing for 118 yards and a crucial touchdown pass to wide receiver Cris Carter, the future NFL Hall of Famer who showcased his exceptional hands even in the soggy conditions. But the real story was the Buckeyes’ defense—a relentless unit that hounded Chuck Long all afternoon, sacking him four times, forcing two interceptions, and limiting the Hawkeyes to just one touchdown.

It was clear from the opening whistle that Ohio State had come to play with a chip on its shoulder. The Buckeyes dominated the trenches, with defensive linemen like Eric Kumerow and William White wreaking havoc on Iowa’s offensive front. Linebacker Chris Spielman, only a sophomore at the time, delivered one of his signature performances—flying to the football, delivering crushing tackles, and embodying the relentless spirit that defined that 1985 squad.

The rain may have washed away any notions of finesse football, but it set the stage for a gritty, physical battle that played right into Ohio State’s hands.

Offensively, the Buckeyes leaned heavily on their ground game, grinding out tough yards behind a physical offensive line. Running back George Cooper and Vince Workman shouldered the rushing load, each fighting for every soggy yard as Ohio State methodically moved the chains and controlled the pace of play.

But it wasn’t just the players who made November 2, 1985, unforgettable—it was the atmosphere. Despite the weather, the Shoe was electric. Every defensive stop, every Iowa mistake, and every Buckeye first down ignited the soaked crowd into a frenzy. Chants of “O-H-I-O” echoed through the mist, punctuated by the steady beat of the Ohio State marching band, whose instruments gleamed under the rain despite being drenched like everyone else.

For Iowa, the loss was devastating. The Hawkeyes, under head coach Hayden Fry, entered the game as the consensus No. 1 team in the nation, with legitimate national championship aspirations. Chuck Long, a frontrunner for the Heisman Trophy, had led a high-flying offense that few had been able to slow down—until they ran into the Buckeye buzzsaw that afternoon in Columbus.

Ohio State’s defense disrupted Iowa’s rhythm from start to finish, forcing errant throws, creating turnovers, and holding the Hawkeyes to a season-low in points. Even as the rain intensified, so did the Buckeyes’ resolve. They played with a confidence and edge that made it clear—this was their house, their moment.

The game wasn’t just a monumental upset—it was a season-altering statement. For head coach Earle Bruce, it was a signature victory that revitalized the Buckeyes’ season and silenced critics. It served as a reminder that Ohio State, even when unranked and doubted, remained one of college football’s proudest and most dangerous programs.

In the days that followed, the national conversation shifted. The Buckeyes vaulted back into the polls, Iowa’s title hopes took a hit, and the mythos surrounding Ohio Stadium grew even larger. That rain-soaked, hard-fought afternoon became part of Ohio State folklore—a testament to the unpredictability of college football and the indomitable spirit of Buckeye Nation.

Today, ask any lifelong Ohio State fan over the age of 50 where they were on November 2, 1985, and you’ll likely hear stories of wet clothes, muddy shoes, hoarse voices—and unbridled joy. Many will tell you they were there, standing shoulder to shoulder with thousands of others, drenched but undeterred, watching as their Buckeyes shocked the world.

For those who witnessed it live, the images remain vivid—the roar of the crowd as Cris Carter secured his touchdown catch, the defense swarming Chuck Long, the scoreboard reading 22-13 as the final seconds ticked away, and the realization that they had just seen history unfold.

It wasn’t just a football game; it was a defining chapter in Ohio State’s rich tradition. It was a reminder that underdogs can prevail, that the Horseshoe is a fortress when united by purpose, and that rain or shine, Buckeye pride never wavers.

So, who was there? Who weathered the storm, stood through the downpour, and celebrated every hard-earned point? For those lucky enough to answer “I was,” that rainy November day lives on as more than a memory—it’s a badge of honor, a shared experience etched in scarlet and gray.

The Buckeyes’ 22-13 upset of No. 1 Iowa on November 2, 1985, remains one of Ohio State’s most iconic victories—a soggy, spectacular reminder that champions are forged not only by talent, but by toughness, belief, and the unwavering roar of the Buckeye faithful.