John Feinstein - The Rivalry - Mystery at the Army-Navy Game

“Why aren’t you up in the supe’s box, where it’s nice and warm?” Tamara asked.

Robinson shook his head. “Have to show the boys my support,” he said. “I can deal with the cold.”

The boys could have used him on the field most of the first half. Navy simply couldn’t get anything going on offense, although the defense did finally get its feet underneath it after Notre Dame’s first two touchdowns.

Finally, late in the first half, Navy began to move the ball. A perfectly timed pitch from quarterback Ricky Dobbs to slotback G. G. Greene produced a big play; Greene got a good block on the corner that sprung him for a thirty-nine-yard gain to the Notre Dame 32. The Navy bench exploded as Greene raced down the sideline.

“We need seven before halftime,” Robinson said. “We get the ball to start the second half.”

Then Dobbs surprised the Irish with a pass over the middle to wide receiver Mike Schupp, who carried the ball to the 11. Running the option offense, Navy rarely passed, but with the clock winding down to a minute, Dobbs took the chance. Two plays later, with just fourteen seconds left, fullback Alex Murray bulled into the end zone behind a great block from Garrett Smith. Suddenly, it was a game, 14-7 at the half.

Right as halftime began, Captain Klunder appeared. He was in his dress uniform and looked a lot less casual than the night before.

“Come on, you three,” he said, grabbing Robinson by the arm. “Let’s go inside the locker room and get warm.”

They followed the players through the tunnel. The security guard did a double take when he saw Robinson and a triple take when he saw Susan Carol and Tamara.

“Admiral, we don’t allow women in the locker rooms at Notre Dame,” he said to Klunder.

“It’s Captain,” Klunder said. “And right now this isn’t Notre Dame’s locker room, it’s Navy’s. So I’ll decide who is and isn’t allowed.”

The security guard eyed Klunder for a moment but said nothing. Klunder led them all to an office off the locker room where there was hot chocolate, coffee, bottled water, and donuts.

“Help yourselves,” Klunder said. “The coaches will meet for a few minutes, and then each position coach will talk to his guys before Kenny talks to the team as a group.

“Hot chocolate, Susan Carol? You look frozen.”

“Actually, I’d love some coffee,” Susan Carol said, realizing she had drawn out the word love to be “lovvvvv” in a way that Stevie would have teased her about.

Klunder gave her a disapproving look. “Aren’t you fourteen?” he said.

She sighed. “Yes, but I’m a fourteen-year-old swimmer who’s up at five most mornings. Plus, I’m not really worried about stunting my growth.”

Klunder laughed and poured her some coffee.

“We’re going to win this game,” Klunder said, tossing away his napkin. “Our guys have figured them out.”

“Easy, Matt,” Tamara said. “Remember where you are.”

“What do you mean? Luck of the Irish?” Robinson said.

“More like refs of the Irish,” Tamara said.

“Oh-too true. Do you remember that line judge?” Klunder said.

“What?” Susan Carol asked.

“Right!” Tamara said. “That was the worst call… Susan Carol, this is years ago-back in ’99, I think. Navy had the game won. They stopped Notre Dame a full yard short on fourth down with a minute to go, and Notre Dame was out of time-outs. Then the line judge walked in, picked up the ball, moved it up a yard, and they made the first down by an inch.”

“Even in ’07, when we won, they threw that mystery flag during the third overtime,” Klunder said.

“I remember that,” Tamara said.

After a while, they could hear shouts coming from the locker room. They walked into the main room and saw players huddling around various coaches, each of whom had some kind of board to draw x’s and o’s on while they talked. Every once in a while someone would shout something, clearly in an adrenaline rush, but Susan Carol noticed one phrase repeated frequently.

“Our way of life against theirs!”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

Robinson smiled. “You go to a military academy, you live a distinctly different kind of life than kids who go to a civilian school. It’s kind of a rallying cry about being disciplined and tough.”

Niumatalolo walked in. “Everybody up,” he said in a clear, loud voice, and all the players moved to the middle of the room, where he was standing.

“Fellas, we were a little intimidated at the beginning,” he said. “Not sure why, but it doesn’t matter. We’re every bit as good as these guys on both sides of the ball. If we go out and stay focused and don’t let anything distract us, we’ll win the game. I told you if we played Navy football, we’d win. You should be more certain now than ever that that’s true. Let’s go!”

The players pushed themselves into a circle with their hands all in and on the count of three shouted, “Better than the Irish!” and then began charging for the doors. Susan Carol was a little less eager. She wanted to stay warm.

The second half started just like the first-except Navy was the team in control. Alex Teich returned the kickoff to the 43, and from there the Mids’ offense was near perfect. Dobbs was making all the right decisions at quarterback: If he put the ball in Murray’s stomach, a hole was open in front of him. If he faked, the Irish still went for Murray and he got to the edge for good yardage. Without passing the ball once, Navy went fifty-seven yards in nine plays, Dobbs following a Murray block into the end zone from the 2-yard line. The extra point made it 14-14.

“Now it’s a ball game!” Robinson said.

Notre Dame picked up one first down but stalled and had to punt.

Navy immediately launched another drive and picked up a first down at the Notre Dame 18 as the third quarter ended.

“I like all the running plays,” Susan Carol said. “Makes the game go faster.”

“I like them too,” Robinson said, “because they’re working.”

Navy ran two fullback plunges up the middle to start the fourth quarter, picking up eight yards. On third and two Dobbs faked to Murray so well that Susan Carol thought the fullback had the ball. But Dobbs suddenly popped up, took two steps back, and lofted a perfect pass to a wide-open G. G. Greene in the end zone.

The stadium was completely silent, except for the five hundred midshipmen who were seated behind the Navy bench.

“Amazing!” Susan Carol yelled as the bench celebrated.

“Not so amazing,” Tamara said, pointing at the yellow flag that was lying on the ground only a few yards from where Dobbs had thrown the pass.

The referee turned his mike on to announce the penalty. “Holding, number 70 on the offense. Repeat third down.”

He hadn’t even turned his mike off before Susan Carol heard Niumatalolo, who was standing way outside the coaching-players area. “Are you kidding me?! On a two-step drop you saw a hold? Were you saving that one for the right time?”

The referee carefully turned his mike off and took a few steps toward Niumatalolo. “Easy, Coach. Don’t make it any worse for your players.”

That was the wrong thing to say. “Worse for my players?!” Niumatalolo shouted. “You’re STEALING THE GAME from my players.”

The referee, who had carefully tucked his flag back into his pocket, took it out again, retreated, and said, “Unsportsmanlike conduct, Navy bench-fifteen yards.”

Buddy Green, the defensive coordinator, was now pushing Niumatalolo away from the ref. Two flags had moved Navy from the end zone back to the Notre Dame 35. Navy now had third and twenty-seven.