There’s a moment in every Indiana game, usually when the stakes are highest, when Fernando Mendoza’s eyes find the same target. Third-and-something. Fourth-and-everything. The defensive coordinator across the field pointing and screaming. It doesn’t matter. Elijah Sarratt runs his route, and the ball finds him. It always does.
They call him “Waffle House.” And if you’ve been paying attention to the Hoosiers’ historic 15-0 run to Monday’s national championship, you already know why.
How Elijah Sarratt Became “Waffle House”
“Y’all can say Waffle House,” Sarratt told reporters back in September. “Because I’m open 24/7.”
The moniker didn’t emerge from some marketing brainstorm or social media focus group. It came, fittingly, from family. During a Big Ten Network interview for an episode of The Journey, Sarratt’s father, Donnie, glanced at his son filming across the way and offered a simple explanation.
“He’s open right now,” Donnie said with a knowing smile.
Whether Elijah was actually running a route at that precise moment didn’t matter. The idea was the point. Like the restaurant chain famous for never closing its doors, Sarratt finds ways to get open regardless of coverage, situation, or pressure.
The nickname crystallised during summer workouts in Bloomington, when Indiana’s receivers were tossing around tags for each other. Teammate Omar Cooper Jr. gets credit for making it stick. Head coach Curt Cignetti, with characteristic understatement, gave his endorsement.
“I can’t attest to the validity of Waffle House always being open,” Cignetti said. “But even when he’s not, he’ll find a way to come down with the ball.”
His teammates don’t require such caveats. “We call him Waffle House every day,” receiver Miles Cross confirmed. “It’s real.”
Growing up in Stafford, Virginia, Elijah didn’t have a nickname. His family simply called him “E.” His older brother Josh, however, earned a more creative tag: Cheese.
“As a kid, he used to whine a lot,” Elijah explains with a grin, “so my parents would say, ‘Baby, do you want cheese with that whine?'”
Josh still goes by Cheese. And despite the playful ribbing, it was Josh who first recognised his younger brother’s potential. Back in 2017, when Elijah was a freshman trying to make Colonial Forge’s varsity as a wide receiver, Josh came home from practice with rare praise for the Sarratt household.
“One thing you’ve got to know about the Sarratt family: We do not give anybody props undeservedly,” Donnie Sarratt recalled. “If anything, we might be considered haters. But Josh was the first person to notice. He came home one day and said, ‘Pops, Elijah is different.'”
MORE: Two Sets of Brothers, One Championship Dream: Inside Indiana’s Unique Family Bonds
That bond deepened when Elijah transferred to James Madison in 2023, where he played alongside Josh, a safety for the Dukes. That season proved transformational both professionally and personally. Playing with his brother, Elijah had a mentor and motivator in one. When he needed someone to show him how to take his game to the next level, Cheese was there.
The brotherhood didn’t end when their time as teammates did. Today, they live together in Bloomington, where Josh continues to push Elijah daily. If Elijah comes home bragging about extra work, Cheese is the first to humble him, reminding him there’s always more to do.
“When I’m home talking to my mom and dad and brothers, like ‘dang, it’s crazy how everything works out,'” Sarratt reflected recently. “Just to be here in this moment, yeah, it’s definitely exciting.”
The explanation for Sarratt’s reliable hands isn’t complicated. He catches footballs. Lots of them. Every single day.
“I always get at least 100 after practice,” Sarratt explained this week. “And then in between practice, I don’t really count. But if I’m just sitting around while we’re in special teams or something, I go with the quarterbacks and catch some passes. Just try to accumulate as much as I can.”
No grip-strength training. No fingertip pushups. Just catching footballs, over and over, until his hands forgot how to drop one.
Indiana offensive coordinator Mike Shanahan calls it a “clutch factor.” He points to Sarratt’s ability to diagnose coverages, his anticipation, his knack for finding voids in zone coverage.
Yet maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe Sarratt just works harder than everyone else.
Sarratt Models His Game On an Elite NFL Duo
That work ethic extends beyond personal improvement. In summer workouts, when teammates were emptying the tank, Sarratt added one more rep. When others followed, he added another. Soon, the extra rep became the standard.
Midseason, Sarratt watched film of Aaron Rodgers and Davante Adams, studying their back-shoulder fade with a craftsman’s eye. He brought the concept to Mendoza, and they worked on it after practice. No overthinking. Just reps.
“Since I’ve been watching Davante Adams and since he’s been with Aaron Rodgers, he’s done a great job of getting the release off the ball, and then around 12, 14 yards, Aaron Rodgers just throwing a laser and just falls out and it drops in the bucket,” Sarratt explained. “I tend to win off the line more times than not, so I felt like I had a good chance of it.”
He paused, characteristically humble. “Now, I know, like, Aaron Rodgers and Davante Adams, that’s a whole ‘nother level that I someday pray I can reach. But Fernando, he was with it on that.”
A few weeks later, they used that same throw to beat Ohio State in the Big Ten Championship Game. The play Indiana fans will remember for generations came from a receiver watching NFL film and a quarterback willing to put in the work.
MORE: The Hurricane Bain Foundation: How Miami’s Star DE Is Transforming His Hometown
Sarratt’s 62 catches for 802 yards and 15 touchdowns tell only part of the story. The numbers that matter are the ones that came in the tightest windows.
At Iowa, with the game tied and the Hawkeyes bringing heavy pressure, Sarratt slipped across the formation, caught a shallow slant, broke a tackle, and raced 49 yards. Game over.
At Oregon two weeks later, no space, no cushion, just size and strength and timing as he bullied his way to separation for another fourth-quarter score in one of the loudest environments in the country.
Then came Ohio State. Back shoulder. Tight coverage. End zone. Touchdown.
“When those moments come, I just take a little time to myself on the bench, take a little deep breath, maybe say a little prayer to the man above, and then I’m ready to go,” Sarratt said.
“Really being in those moments is all about just trusting your training. Just trust your training and do what you do. It’s no different. You’re just still running the routes. It’s just a little extra pressure on you.”
On Monday night, Sarratt and the Hoosiers will face Miami in the national championship. He knows the Hurricanes’ defense will be a challenge. He also knows he’ll be ready.
“I’m always comfortable when you got somebody like Fernando back there throwing you the ball,” Sarratt said. “And of course I believe in myself and the guys in the receiving room with me. So I’m always confident no matter who we’re going against.”
As for blocking out the noise of a championship week? Sarratt has a system for that, too.
“It’s really a daily process and really believing what Cignetti says when he says don’t pay attention to all the outside noise,” he explained. “I delete Twitter each week because I try to really embrace what he’s saying and not really worry about what everyone else is saying.”
No stars out of high school. No FBS offers. A winding path through Saint Francis and James Madison before finally landing in Bloomington. Elijah Sarratt was never supposed to be here. Yet here he is, one win from a national championship, with a nickname that captures everything about how he plays.
Waffle House. Always open. Ready to deliver.
