Orison Piper, left, and Carson Bockenhauer chant against Iowa as they wait to get into Huntington Bank Stadium ahead of the Gophers' game vs. the Hawkeyes on Saturday. (Alex Kormann/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

There’s a phrase in Minnesota termed “Minnesota nice.” It implies that Minnesotans are unusually courteous, respectful and just overall good people.

However, there are always a few exceptions to the rule — and one of them is when the Gophers and Hawkeyes meet on the gridiron. With the Floyd of Rosedale trophy — and a year’s worth of bragging rights — on the line, all those nice people are gone. They’re now a group who bleed maroon and gold and loathe anyone wearing black (even Caitlin Clark).

When I first arrived in Minnesota, I’ll be honest … I had no idea about this rivalry. When it came to out-of-state rivals, I knew all about the regular ones: Florida-Georgia, Ohio State-Michigan and my favorite, Oregon-Washington. I knew those rivalries often go past the point of respectability; all you have to do is check social media to confirm.

Yet I was told that the battle for the pig was just as personal, just as intense and most likely with more alcohol. Apart from Florida-Georgia, I might agree with that last part. But count me skeptical when it came to the rest.

Ohio State and Michigan have played for more than 125 years and are two of the most storied programs in history. Oregon and Washington have played for nearly as long and, since the turn of the century, have often met with national implications on the line.

So, my question was, how does a rivalry in the Midwest — featuring two teams that have barely sniffed New Year’s Day bowl games let alone finished in the top five of national rankings since 2000 — compare to the big ones?

Take a trip to Huntington Bank Stadium in Minneapolis when the Hawkeyes come to town. That’s where you’ll get your answer.

University Avenue, the main road that runs through campus, is littered with fraternity houses that made their feelings about Iowa — and some illegal fair catch — known. Fans lined the streets a mile away from the stadium, clad in maroon and gold, drinking and yelling. If you happened to be wearing anything but yellow and black, “Minnesota nice” is what greeted you. If you didn’t, best to keep your head down and keep walking.

The student section was more than halfway full 60 MINUTES before kickoff. Rather than continue to party outside the stadium — which was a scene within itself — the students took the party inside. They braved the sun shining directly into their eyes for a chance to heckle the Iowa kicker. Yes, the freaking kicker.

I think there are multiple things that make a rivalry great: passion, hatred, scandal, pettiness and history among them. All it took was a walk down University Avenue to convince me that Minnesota and Iowa belong with the big boys.

Now all there’s left to do is play football.