Army-Navy football, Dec. 3, 2005 by Beth Sullins
From MemoryArchive
Who: Beth Sullins What: Navy beating Army When: December 3, 2005 Where: Lincoln Fin. Field, Philly, PA
December 3, 2005 would be the 106th time America got together in one of their most sacred traditions. Once again, the United States Military Academy Black Knights and the United States Naval Academy Midshipmen would meet on the football field. The crowd began to gather early, everybody, and I do mean everybody, donning gear that made it clear what team exactly they were there to support. The sides of the field were clearly delineated, and security guards from both the Philadelphia Police Force and the security systems of the Lincoln Financial Field were there to make sure the Army and Navy sides didn’t mingle.
I arrived late to the festivities, getting to my seat just a few minutes before kickoff. Below me, was my ex-boyfriend who had frantically driven me to the game standing in his Navy uniform, along with the hundreds of other Midshipmen, waiting eagerly for the game to start. This was a big year for Navy. It was the opportunity for them the Firsties, or Seniors, to have a clean sweep at the Army-Navy games. It was also the opportunity for the Midshipmen to take back the lead in the entire Navy Army series, which then stood at 49-49-7. The only thing that was clear was that this game was not going to be a tie. Navy, for the first time in about four years, was playing a WestPoint team that was prepared, much more so than they had been in the previous three match-ups against the Midshipmen. The Army was playing a better season than they had in the past, and I knew that the Army’s winning streak from the past four game meant that they had big head on their shoulders.
I’m sure, as is always true, the commentators on the screen got and said that this was a chance for Americans to “come together and thank the military for all that they do, etc. etc.” The only time the audience came together was to sing the Star Spangled Banner. Other than that, this wasn’t about September 11, this wasn’t about Iraq, this wasn’t about God or Peace. This was about warfare. Brutal civil warfare, and both sides were lusting after blood.
The national anthem was very pretty.
The crowd that I was sitting with on the second level on the Navy’s 15 yard line was amazingly intense about the game. It was a good mix of former Navy men and the family and friends of those on the field or at the Academy. Joyce, the woman whom I sat next to during the game was decidedly higher strung about the game than either the coaches or anyone on the field. Her son was playing in the game, his first, and she was very happy to tell everyone in the crowd just how proud of her son she was. Over and over.
During the kickoff, everyone was on their feet screaming, except Joyce, as she was already hyperventilating into her empty popcorn bag. The majority of the first quarter was a blur of screaming of crashing helmets, and of giant frustrations as the ball kept getting punted to the other sides of the field on fourth downs. With 26 seconds left in the first quarter, Army scored the first points of the game. As the ball floated through the field goal, and the referees arms went up signifying a success, the Navy side of the stadium gasped. It is, I imagine, the sound someone makes when they are shot, except as a collective unit. This was the first time Navy had been behind since 2001. The man next to me, a former Naval Police officer, was swearing, and Joyce was sobbing in frustration.
Reggie Campbell, a Midshipmen, exactly one minute into the second quarter would prove to be the Naval Academies salvation. Navy was on the board, in the head position. The audience went nuts, erupting in screams of victory. The floors solid concrete was shaking with the bouncing of everyone. It was impossible not to get caught up in the moment and bounce up and down with the people. Screaming whatever victorious claims that could burst out of you, or whatever profanity you could think of at the moment. I think my particular axiom for the moment was “Booyah!” or I’ll admit, at least something equally as lame. It was quite hard to be clever in the freezing weather.
The Naval Academies fans feelings of superiority, and my own victorious feelings were short lived. Army soon ran for a 30 yard touchdown. 10-7 with Navy on the tail-end of that was not something the fans expected to see. The crowd fell deathly silent as we watched the Army fans across the other side of the field embrace and jump up and down as we all had just moments before. I honestly believe that if any of the Navy fans had the ability to shoot lasers out of their eyes, at that moment, they would have done more damage to Philadelphia than Mrs. O’Leary’s cow ever did to Chicago. Grown men had tears in their eyes. Most people were holding their breaths so tightly, that it appeared the group had suddenly decided we were using up too much of the oxygen and needed to conserve it for our players.
With 3:46 seconds left on the clock in the first half, Navy got themselves another touchdown, and the crowd got to breathe again. As soon as enough air entered our lungs for us to scream, we all did, this time, I loudly yelled “Whoopee!” Navy was where they were supposed to be on the scoreboard, on top, and I, like many of the people in that crowd with me believed that by holding our breaths, we had contributed to that touchdown.
As with all football fans, everyone began strategizing what the coaches would do next. The only logical thing for Army Coach Bobby Ross to do was to try for an onside kick to try to get some points back before the half ended, which of course we had guessed, and were proud of ourselves for choosing. With about a minute thirty left on the clock, Army tried to press their luck and get Navy to go off sides, giving Army some much needed 4th down yardage. However, Navy wouldn’t fall for it which led to Navy getting the ball and running 21 yards. That led to a touchdown with 6 seconds left on the clock in the first half. The crowd continued screaming. For about three minutes, as the Midshipmen ran off the field for halftime, the Navy fans continued their ear shattering screams. It was halftime, and the Midshipmen were on top 21-10. The last thing I heard before I left my seat for halftime was the gentleman behind me say “God, I need a cigarette.”
I didn’t need a cigarette,I needed a hat. It wasn’t until halftime that the crowds bodies relaxed and separated enough to realize just how cold it was outside. I looked forward to getting back to the group I was in, and participating in the mob mentality more. I arrived back to my seat to see the end of the ceremonies for the senior class of both academies, honoring the first class to join the academies after September 11th. Most of the crowd arrived back late, and missed the ceremonies, but spirits were high on the Navy side, and most people were visibly touched by the ceremony.
Whatever good feelings were with the audience dissipated as soon as the teams entered the field. Joyce began chanting, “please don’t mess it up, please don’t mess it up.” With the kick up in the air, Joyce finally sat down, with the rest of the crowd on their feet screaming.
A near interception 2 minutes into the second half caused everyone to panic. When Navy ended up keeping the football, everyone was so excited. Joyce actually threw up into her empty since she was so excited and had spilled the popcorn during the first play of the game. When on the next play of the game, Navy scored again. This time, Joyce threw her arms around me and kissed me. Retrospectively, I think it was better for my ego that she threw up before she kissed me. The crowd around me laughed, and she turned away mildly embarrassed as I laughed and smiled and hugged her back.
Three minutes left in the third quarter, another navy touchdown. At this point, the Navy fans got cocky. When the score is 35-10 late in the third quarter, fans will get down right brutal, and downright brutal we got. The rumor had spread, started partially by my friend who had attended WestPoint that the coach of the Army’s football team was the highest paid personnel in the Department of Defense. The insults flung at towards the army were too cruel to be written down, but they were harsh, and in my oh so humble opinion, accurate.
Army tried to halt our cockiness with 7 seconds left in the 3rd quarter by scoring another touchdown, but the Navy fans easily saw how impressive our boys were playing, and this didn’t really concern anyone. Most people yelled something along the lines of “Oh let the babies have their bottle.” Whatever pacifier was given to the WestPoint cadets were quickly taken away. 16 seconds of game play later, in the first play of the fourth quarter, Ballard, a Midshipmen, ran the ball 67 yards for a Navy touchdown. No one even touched him. It was beautiful.
We could see the Army side of the stadium getting lower and lower in their seats throughout the fourth quarter. 42- 16 was pretty undeniable. The more the quarter progressed the more the miracle that the Army side had to be praying for seemed less and less like an option. Navy, as to be expected, reveled in this. With 1:30 left in the game, Army scored again, and even the Navy side celebrated. This game was over, and this game was ours. The Midshipmen below us began to dance, many of them were jumping up and down. 42-23 would be the final score, and we knew it. With a minute left on the clock, not much game play occurred, but a lot of celebration did. Those who had drinks mostly had them spilt all over the floor. To both sides honor, not many people were leaving the stadium before the game ended. We were fans of the military, and we were in it for the long haul.
When the game ended, the Midshipmen ran over to the Army’s side to listen to their song being played, and then ran over to the Navy side to listen to the Naval Academy song being victoriously played for the fourth time in a row. During the song, the crowd was singing along, and everyone, myself included had tears in their eyes.
I found my ex boyfriend after the game near one of the food kiosks, and he was still openly sobbing, something I never thought I would see him do. He picked me up, hugged me, and just said, “we did a good job.”
Making it out to the car was a beautiful and interesting adventure. Anyone in a Navy uniform were being given high fives, hugs, kisses, or congratulations. While I knew that a lot of the boys had been crying, they were back in their “manly men” phase. Smiling, giving high fives, and saying “hells yeah” to just about everything.
The cops and security guards were all over the parking lot making sure that the Navy and the Army crowds stayed separate. Cops were directing Navy traffic to the east sides of Philadelphia, and the Army traffic to West Philadelphia. By the time we were ready to leave, most of the Midshipmen that I had been friends with throughout college had gathered, many of them ready to celebrate their schools victory in Philly, and some wanting to go back to Annapolis or DC to visit girlfriends or family and celebrate with them.
I headed back to DC, freezing, and victorious. It was exactly what my football game was supposed to be.
