Navy in Blue Heaven

SAN FRANCISCO -- Josh Smith and Frank Divis remembered 2001, that crestfallen locker room after 10 losses and no victories. Aaron Polanco, too.

He was the senior quarterback who Thursday in the rain led a drive that MapQuest could not navigate -- a 94-yard, 26-play odyssey that ensured one team had the football for almost an entire quarter.

That team was the Naval Academy, Emerald Bowl champion.

From 0-10 to 10-2, just like that. Wild.

"It's such a good feeling, especially looking back to where we were," Divis said after the Midshipmen's 34-19 victory over New Mexico. Like Smith and Polanco, Divis is a senior at Annapolis, one of 36 on a team that made Academy history.

Paul Johnson, the coach, spoke of getting his players to believe in something when he took over the program three years ago. But who could imagine Navy's first 10-win season in 99 years? It's a renaissance that no one could have predicted at the time. And, frankly, it's too bad the reward is more self-satisfying than revenue enhancing.

When a service academy can win 10 games, it says everything about the inequity of college football's wealth distribution. We know USC and Oklahoma will annually be good or great and in the hunt for a $14.3 million Bowl Championship Series payout. But shouldn't a 10-2, turnaround program that was winless a few seasons ago be rewarded with more than $750,000, the Emerald Bowl's payout?

It's almost passe to bring up the fact that the six power conferences hog college football's revenues. But in the year of unbeaten Boise State and Utah, the first mid-major to crack the BCS code, who's next to rattle the perennial power structure?

But unlike the democracy of the NCAA basketball tournament, football relegates the Golden Bears to some dog-and-pony show before the meaningful football games. Would a Navy or Boise State ever win college football's crown? Probably not, but we'll never know with this system. Remember, the popularity and success of the NCAA basketball tournament is because of the small schools -- not in spite of them.

If a squad such as Navy could put on a show on New Year's Day, it would almost be their just reward.

Thursday was largely about Navy, and the New Mexicans almost did not seem to mind. They stood and applauded as 1,500 Midshipmen took the field in uniform before the game. Two crooned the national anthem prior to the traditional cannon shot. There were the three Navy jerseys behind the bench, memorializing former players Ron Winchester, Scott Zellem and J.P. Blecksmith, all killed in action the past four months. Tyson Stahl, a senior offensive guard, played for his brother Hoot, who is leading an infantry unit in Iraq.

Divis, the kid who threw the fourth-down pass to Polanco on the drive that wouldn't end, has chosen to be a surface warfare officer. He said the earliest he could be shipped overseas was a month from graduation in July. Imagine running a flea-flicker on ESPN2 in January and being responsible for a combat unit in August. It's incomprehensible for everyone except this extraordinary group of players. On the upper right corner of Divis's jersey was a "Hell on Wheels" patch. It's from his grandfather's 2nd Armored Tank Division in the Korean War. He had another insignia from his other grandfather who served in World War II, but the Emerald Bowl patch took its place.

"You think about it," Polanco, who has declared himself for the Marines, said afterward. "We're here to play football but we're also here to fight for our country after we're done."

Beyond real-life commitments, bringing a service academy to town during wartime is big business -- even in tourism-rich San Francisco. Navy sold 16,200 tickets to the game and expected to bring in 20,000 by kickoff. Compare that to Colorado, which sold 900 tickets for their bowl game in Houston.

Johnson's team pleased the brigade and the alumni in grand fashion. After the drive, there was another important moment late in the first half.

Facing fourth and one from its 44, Navy went for it. Polanco made two yards on a quarterback keeper and the Midshipmen defenders got a few minutes of much-needed rest before playing prevent as the first half ended. He risked a first-half lead because he wanted to send the right message to his team.

As opposed to Virginia Coach Al Groh on Monday against Fresno State in Boise, Idaho. Groh balked at fourth and short in a game his offense was dominating and his defense was, at the least, controlling. Virginia punted, netted maybe 18 yards after the touchback, gave Fresno State confidence and eventually lost in overtime. Groh played not to lose. Johnson plays to win.

On a fourth down during that defining drive, Polanco caught his second pass when Johnson called for a flea-flicker. The slot back Divas delivered a six-yard strike for the first down.

Navy's next challenge may be how to keep a coach whose name will be thrown in the hopper for many lucrative jobs the next few years. Johnson has already shunned East Carolina and Mississippi, and the thinking at the Academy is that the coach has no desire to take a job north of Annapolis or west of the Mississippi.

The other factor working in the Midshipmen's favor is the triple-option attack, an offense all about deception and ball control. The option is not about letting a quarterback air it out every Saturday. Many premier programs see that as a deterrent to attracting players looking to audition for the NFL in a wide-open passing game.

So, in one of those nice ironies for the Midshipmen, the very offense that triggered Johnson's success at Navy might just keep him there.

The same can't be said for this remarkable group of seniors, 36 of whom remembered what it was like to be 0-10 in 2001 -- shortly before Johnson arrived and soon after the world changed.

They won two games their first two seasons and 18 games their last two seasons.

Looking back in these uncertain times, they have to know: Annapolis was a good place to be.