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Out of nowhere, they arrived. Four U.S. Marines stormed to the front of the Holiday Bowl luncheon head table, carrying a long beige pole. They moved into position with silent precision, then froze — and the guests of the USS Ronald Reagan were stunned.
As the Nebraska Cornhuskers, Washington Huskies, members of the media and Holiday Bowl officials looked on, the four Marines reenacted the raising of the U.S. flag on Iwo Jima (as depicted on the Marines Corps War Memorial). No detail was missed, right down to the last Marine holding his cupped hands in the air in an desperate attempt to steady our flag.
The Marines never moved while the story of that most-famous unfurling was told over the USS Ronald Reagan's loudspeakers. No words were spoken among the players and guests of this magnificent, nuclear-powered super aircraft carrier. The message received was loud and clear.
An hour earlier, a "battle of the bands" between Nebraska and Washington had taken place on the pier adjacent to the USS Ronald Reagan, at anchor near San Diego. The competition was serious, by college football standards. Which band would show the most spirit, whose cheerleaders were better dancers and which mascot was, well, funnier? It seemed important at the time, but things change in a hurry.
The raising of our flag brought everyone back to reality with a vivid reminder that far more serious battles are being waged by our servicemen and women.
In two months, the USS Ronald Reagan will deploy for seven months to parts unknown — probably not Paradise, most likely very hostile. The mission is simple: Protect the citizens of the United States. Some of them may make the ultimate sacrifice for American citizens they have never met.
Tuesday’s exposure to the men and women on board the massive carrier certainly left an impression on Washington coach Steve Sarkisian.
"You look in their eyes and you realize they are 18-, 19-, 20-year-old kids, the same (as) kids we work with every day," Sarkisian told reporters, "and they are out . . . defending our country. So it humbles you."
According to Petty Officer David Trang, each crew member of the USS Ronald Reagan is allowed one beer if the ship has been active and not in port for 50 consecutive days. One beer.
Every piece of clothing they wear must be fire retardant, and the beds in which they sleep have blankets that are fire retardant in case they have to use it them to smother the flames on their ship. Or on their crew mates. Their biggest enemy is an onboard fire.
There are no casual Fridays or happy hours. Their treasured happy hour is when they can correspond with their loved ones via computer.
At the same time, in seven months, some Cornhuskers and Huskies seniors will have signed multimillion-dollar contracts to play a football game once a week. The players union will fight for them if they fail a drug test or commit a crime. Their agents will ask them to hold out because $3 million a year isn't enough. To play a game.
For those who return to play another year, the debate will continue as to whether college football players should be paid. To play a game.
Players under NCAA scholarships get a free education as long as they are academically eligible. The military also promises a free education, but the risks can be far greater.
If the striking disparities between football and military life weren't clear before, Tuesday's program provided a reminder. Many Nebraska players were visibly moved by the sheer power of the USS Ronald Reagan and the dedication and discipline of its crew. Fresh-faced young men and women, most the same age as the typical college football player, carried machine guns on their shoulders as they walked along the ship, ever wary of potential threats.
Did the Navy and Marines get their message across? Perhaps. Maj. Gen. Ronald Bailey, commanding general of the Marine Corps Recruit Depot/Western Regional Region, noted in his speech that many of the football players in attendance should contact him after the luncheon for career opportunities. He was in recruiting mode, and he made a great case. I almost signed up.
As I looked around the room at many of the Cornhusker players, I could see them rapt, absorbing the whole experience. The perfect San Diego day was in full-force —- sunny and warm with blue waters lapping against the sides of the ship.
Perhaps football players should stop and think about all they have been afforded. Perhaps NFL players should do the same. Blowing out a knee isn't a huge sacrifice for the team. Throwing yourself on a grenade is.
The real American heroes aren't on our gridirons. They never were. Sometimes, we need a reminder of that.
