Saturdays at West Point

The story that follows is an original account of how college football unites families. Attending a Clemson, South Carolina, or any college football game can be similar for you. I hope part of what has been said speaks to you as we approach the weekend and prepare to enjoy another college football Saturday.

I have a deep respect for collegiate football from an early age. I went to Army football games with my family from the time I was crawling. We would gather at my church, board a bus, and travel two hours to West Point to watch Army play a low-level opponent, which nearly always ended in victory.

I suppose the church received a ticket discount, which allowed us to attend. Given the opponent and the small attendance at the game, Army was most likely pleased to comply. I get what the majority of you are thinking—an Army game sounds terrible. But keep in mind that this is the US Military Academy, and I was a child. It is unlike any other location, especially for a college football game.

What I remember most is the chill in the October morning air and the smell of diesel from the bus. The interior and exterior of every tour bus smell the same. If you’ve ever been on one, you understand what it means. When I was six or seven years old and from a working-class household in New Jersey, a week at the beach was practically the same as a bus ride.

After we got there, we set up our tailgate on the same hill that casts a shadow over Michie Stadium. The hill leveled out, making it the ideal place to set up a grill, throw a football, and enjoy a picnic. In my life, this was one of the times when everything came together just so. My brothers wanted to play with me, my parents were content, and there were plenty of hot dogs, burgers, and sodas.

On their way to the stadium, the cadets would pass by. My dad would watch them go by, maybe thinking back on his time in the Army and secretly wishing that the young men who were going by us wouldn’t go through what he had. We would all gaze in wonder at these stony-faced young men, who, in my opinion, were anything but youthful. Twenty years old could as well have been a hundred years old in my opinion. In my impressionable mind, everything looked so distant.

I was constantly struck by how uniform and traditional everything was. More than any other campus I’ve visited, this one captures the essence of collegiate football’s heritage. Remember that Army used to be the Alabama of collegiate football. Those days have long since passed, but they weren t as far gone when I was a child in the mid 80 s.

As we made our way up the hill to the stadium, I would get excited to see the astro turf field, which was a novelty to me and an event in itself. Our seats were always in the front row of the end zone, allowing my vertically challenged frame to see all that was happening on the field and throughout the stadium.

One game in particular stands out in my mind. Army was crushing Colgate 35-0. In the second half, game firmly in hand, my Dad picked me up and placed me over the wall so I was basically sitting in the end zone. Colgate hadn t crossed mid field all day and there was pretty much no chance of them reaching my new on field seat.

I looked around at the field, the stadium, the end zone paint and looked back up at my Dad who was smiling back at me. All was right with the world and I was hooked, college football was synonymous with happiness. My Saturdays would never be the same.

As I write this, Army stands at 9-0 for the first time since 1949. No doubt my father would be happy, which is not that difficult for me to imagine. His smiling face looking down on me is etched in my memory, unyielding to the sands of time.

If you ve never been, I recommend taking a visit to West Point and Michie Stadium for a game.

With apologies to the SEC and their It Just Means More tagline, when it comes to Army and the cadets attending the game, the phrase is actually true.