Week 0 is college football’s oft-ignored start to the season. The good stuff doesn’t generally happen until the smorgasbord of Labor Day weekend.

This year, though, it begins with a unique bang. Consider that, right now in some Dublin pub, two fan bases from Middle America are likely baffling locals by arguing not merely over their teams but the per-acre yields of wheat vs. corn.

It’s Iowa State and Kansas State to kick things off — in Ireland no less.

It’s Farmageddon on the old sod, or Farm O’Geddon, as some have dubbed it this year.

The rural-rooted and wonderfully self-aware rivalry is getting a rare but well-deserved turn in the spotlight.

These are two proud and solid programs. Both are nationally ranked. The Wildcats check in at No. 17, and the Cyclones at 22. It’s a Big 12 game with conference title and national playoff implications.

“It’s certainly a great opportunity, and we certainly feel honored to be able to be a part of it,” Iowa State coach Matt Campbell said.

It’s also a reminder of how, even when college football is doing something well, the sport’s self-destructive ways can hang over everything.

This is the 109th consecutive meeting between these two schools, a run that dates to 1917.

Yet in 2027, there will be no scheduled game; Farmageddon’s streak will be a casualty of conference realignment.

The series predates the old Big Eight, which is now called the Big 12 even though it has 16 members, complicating everything. Trying to manage a schedule in a league that large is a massive challenge. The conference relies on what it calls a “scheduling matrix” to get it done.

The Big 12 chose just four long-standing rivalries to be “protected” and thus forced into the matrix each season: Arizona-Arizona State, BYU-Utah, Baylor-TCU and Kansas State-Kansas.

Those make sense — each is an intense, in-state clash. K-State would rather assure a game against Kansas than Iowa State, just as Iowa State wants to make sure it plays Iowa, of the Big Ten, each year in nonconference play.

Scheduling is tough. Sometimes something has to give.

Still, Farmageddon’s run of games is longer than Texas-Oklahoma, Michigan-Ohio State and the Iron Bowl between Alabama and Auburn. While Iowa State-Kansas State will be played again in future seasons, any break feels unfortunate.

Obviously, the rivalry isn’t nearly as storied as those. Both teams have endured lengthy periods where even mediocrity would have been welcomed. Still, there is something endearing about tradition. It isn’t just for the winners.

The strength of college football isn’t the blue bloods, or at least it isn’t solely in the blue bloods. Yes, the powerhouse teams drive the boat and command the television ratings. Every sport has that, though.

What college football has is everything else, everywhere else. The nation’s 136 FBS-level programs hail from more than 40 states. They are in big cities and tiny towns. There are big state schools and small private ones, religious institutions and military academies. Not everyone expects a national title. Or even a conference one.

This is an American creation that represents America in the broadest sense. That is: None of it makes sense except all of it makes sense. The passion. The pageantry. The pride.

That includes these weird neighborhood rivalries. Leagues were once formed because of familiarity or cultural commonality. You went to one school, your neighbor another. The geographic footprint mattered. Now it’s all about media rights and money.

The Big Ten has 18 teams. The Atlantic Coast Conference has two schools overlooking the Pacific Ocean. And the Big 12 is so big that the Kansas State-Iowa State rivalry — which survived world wars, droughts and depressions — can be brushed to the side.

Saturday’s game is a showcase for what needs to be maintained against the avalanche of money. It’s old-school stuff featuring two programs with reasonable expectations that mostly just want a taste of the big time and all the fun that comes with it.

So they’ve invested in it — as institutions and individuals. Try explaining to some Irishman that the 50,000-seat Bill Snyder Family Football Stadium in the Little Apple of Manhattan, Kansas, is larger than any sporting venue in the Big Apple of Manhattan, New York.

Or that Iowa State running back Abu Sama III is already a school legend for racking up 276 yards and scoring four touchdowns during a winter storm in 2023 at Kansas State.

That game will be forever known as Snowmageddon.

The tradition continues in Ireland, of all places, now with everyone watching. It’s a fitting moment for an overlooked series. It’s also a reminder to appreciate what this sport can produce, because even the good stuff isn’t necessarily safe.