THE ANNUAL ARMY-NAVY football game remains the same as it has for decades. It’s patriotism and tradition all wrapped up in one. It’s the Army Corps of Cadets and Navy Brigade of Midshipmen marching on the field before taking their seats in the stands; U.S. Presidents strolling through pregame warmups; the players standing alongside one another after the final whistle and singing their respective alma maters together — the loser first, then the winner.
It’s college football at large that keeps evolving around America’s Game. In recent years, there’s been seismic realignment, with blue-bloods Oklahoma, Texas, UCLA and USC all making moves to change conferences. Players have more power now than ever, whether it’s the freedom of movement facilitated by the transfer portal or the ability to make money from name, image and likeness opportunities.
But at service academies, all of that is noise. Realignment chatter is just that — chatter. Athletes don’t have access to NIL. The transfer portal, on the other hand, is essentially a one-way-street beckoning players out of town.
Army and Navy stick to the old-fashioned wishbone, the triple-option, the seed from which modern run-pass option offenses sprung. The scheme can come across as quaint, but it’s actually a necessity. Army coach Jeff Monken says they don’t have the caliber of athletes to compete with the rest of the FBS. By doing something unique, it gives them a chance to close the talent gap.
But the gap between service academies and the rest of the FBS keeps widening thanks to NIL and the transfer portal.
It’s to the point that Navy coach Ken Niumatalolo hardly recognizes the American Athletic Conference anymore. “When we first got in the league, we challenged for a championship a couple times; once we won the West outright and two times we tied for it,” Niumatalolo says. “And I feel like the American Conference for us is a super competitive league, but the teams have changed. You just look at the demographics of what guys look like. You just look at Cincinnati and they have the running back from Alabama. Some of our schools are really enticing for SEC or Big Ten or Big 12 players.
“SMU doesn’t look like the same SMU team when we first got into the league. Memphis doesn’t look the same. Houston doesn’t look the same. I mean, these schools all look different.”
Niumatalolo and Monken aren’t looking for sympathy. They’re talking about cold, hard facts. Their players are considered federal employees, and therefore can’t have conflicting sources of income. So NIL is off the table. The portal, meanwhile, flows almost entirely in one direction: out. Admission standards are hard to meet. Also, there’s no such thing as transfer credits. Everyone who gets into Army, Navy or Air Force begins from scratch — as a first-year, or plebe (Doolies at Air Force), responsible for going through summer training.
No one else in college football has to deal with those barriers to entry. It’s enough to make you wonder whether coaches like Niumatalolo and Monken have to adjust their expectations.
“No way,” Monken says defiantly. “Not me. You can talk to somebody else about that. I got one expectation.”
And that’s to win.
“But it is more difficult,” he says.
NIUMATALOLO ADMITS THEY’RE not in the running for top recruits. Never have been. Probably never will be. He laughs when players hear rumors of NIL deals and ask, “What do you have to get to be in the ballpark with this guy?”
“We weren’t going to be in the ballpark anyway,” Niumatalolo says. “But even some of the lower-tier guys for us, we can’t compete with that.” It doesn’t matter if a prospect has zero FBS offers, they inevitably believe they can become stars, play in the NFL and earn a little NIL money in the meantime.
“I’ve had to tell several families, ‘Sorry ma’am, sorry sir, the government won’t allow us,'” Niumatalolo says.
No exceptions. Army athletic director Mike Buddie says they had a soccer player who had a small NIL deal in high school. He got free pads in exchange for his endorsement, but that ended the moment he got to campus.
Since NIL is so clear-cut, Niumatalolo and Monken say they don’t spend much time worrying about it. They have a counter argument, in fact, because there are other perks to going to a service academy besides having room and board paid for, plus a healthy stipend each month.
“Our NIL is on the back end,” Niumatalolo says. “That’s what we sell. Like, ‘Hey, just look at our graduates. Look at their starting salary or what they’re making five years after they’ve graduated.’ Or we put out the number of alumni that are working at different places — on Wall Street or different things.”
Says Navy athletic director Chet Gladchuk: “There’s no such thing as a Naval Academy graduate who’s unemployed. They’ll have a job, they’ll have that ring on their finger, it’ll open numerous doors.”
It’s the same way at Army. So say you’re Monken, you’ve made a similar sales pitch and your roster is filled with developmental prospects. Monken counts about 30 players from Georgia, and none were offered by the University of Georgia or even Georgia Southern. He has an offensive tackle who played quarterback in high school.
Maybe you find a few diamonds in the rough. But can you hold onto them? Navy lost starting linebacker Johnny Hodges to TCU, where he’s currently the leading tackler.
“When you play a team — a regional state university on our schedule, no particular one — they now are not similar to us in that they recruit high school seniors and they have to develop them,” Monken says. “If they’re deficient in an area, they can go get a guy that’s 22 years old and has played 30 college football games, and he will walk into their program and start. They can change their roster instantly. I mean, just look at the teams that have done that and are very open about, ‘Hey, we got 38 guys on our roster that weren’t here a year ago.’ Thirty-eight?! I’m thinking, ‘Holy moly!’
“And then we’ve got to keep those guys that come in as freshmen and they’re going to a military school, which is a challenge itself. There are professional standards here — the rigors of the academics, the formations in the morning, just the things that they have to do to endure four years of college football and being here. It’s a challenge. So there’s attrition.”
Monken is careful when he talks about this kind of thing. Because he loves his players — their toughness and their character. He loves being the coach at Army, too, but he acknowledges the difficulties in winning there. They existed before the portal and NIL, and are even more evident now.
Niumatalolo agrees. Navy went 41-25 from 2015 to ’19. COVID disruptions contributed to a disappointing 3-7 record in 2020. But then, in the spring of 2021, the NCAA took the lid off the transfer portal by allowing athletes to change schools once in their career with immediate eligibility. The Midshipmen are 8-15 since then.
“It has been frustrating,” Niumatalolo says, “because I can see like, ‘Holy smokes, these teams are getting way better.'”
Last month, as Navy prepared to face No. 20 UCF, it rained during practice one day. The indoor facility was unavailable and it was freezing cold outside. Everyone had an excuse to feel miserable, but an assistant coach, who was recently on staff in the Power 5, put things into perspective.
“He said, ‘Guys, I’ve been a lot of places. I don’t think there’s very many 3-7 teams that are practicing in the cold, practicing the way we practice. There’s just a resolve,'” Niumatalolo recalls. “We ended up going to Central Florida and beating them. It just made me think as a coach, ‘You know what? We can’t do any of that other stuff. Let’s just build our team the old-school way. You know, try to be a tough team that loves each other, that works hard, that’s selfless, that it’s not in it for how much am I getting out of this?’
“It’s kind of corny and it’s kind of cliche, but it’s our only alternative.”
JUST BECAUSE IT’S corny doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Part of the enduring attraction to the Army-Navy game, beyond it being the nexus of football and country, is that it radiates a sort of old-fashioned purity of competition, unchanged by time and unencumbered by whatever complications are impacting the sport at large.
All three Division I service academy football teams — Army, Navy and Air Force — have a distinct brand in that way. It’s a big reason schools like scheduling them. They’ll market it as a Military Appreciation Game, which is what Troy did last month when it hosted Army. The Trojans’ mascot wore military fatigues and helicopters flew over the field before kickoff. It was the highest-attended game in Veterans Stadium history.
When realignment rumors began swirling during the last two summers, speculation inevitably turned to the service academies. If a conference wanted to add a group of teams with broad appeal, why wouldn’t it target Army, Navy and Air Force? The Army-Navy game would be worth it; according to CBS, about 10 million people tuned into the game last year.
“What you’re talking about has been kicked around for 30 years,” Gladchuk says. “There’s so many factors that go into it — affiliation with teams that bring market value and bring traditional history and success as Division I institutions. That’s the combination everyone’s trying to manage. Would Army, Navy and Air Force be a welcome addition to a conference? Certainly they would be. No question about it. It would bring another dimension of interest.”
But Gladchuk says Navy is happy in the AAC. It only joined seven years ago.
Air Force had reported interest from the AAC a year ago but decided to stay in the Mountain West.
Only Army remains independent in football.
“So who’s gonna give to create this triumvirate?” Gladchuk asks. “I don’t know, because it’s serving Navy well to be where we are. But I certainly would be very open to and very interested and very proactive if there was interest on Army and Air Force’s part to join us for some good reason. And I think the AAC would certainly consider them joining.”
Gladchuk says the three athletic directors have spoken about it, “But everyone has their own agenda and right now the stars aren’t lined up.”
Buddie says of watching USC and UCLA join the Big Ten this past summer, “You’re crazy not to pay attention and try to think how that’s going to impact the landscape.”
“Certainly we were contacted as the tectonic plates started to shift,” he says. “We’ve had conversations. Some were initiated by me to understand what options existed, and some were certainly initiated by others just to see. … But, as of now, we just haven’t felt compelled to make that leap.”
Buddie admits they’re “leaving a few dollars on the table” by not joining a conference in football. As long as they can create a competitive schedule, they like the flexibility independence offers.
With that said, scheduling got tricky during COVID. If a result of conference expansion is that it leaves no wiggle room in teams’ schedules — and therefore no place for Army to slide in — then Buddie could see reconsidering their stance.
“If the dust falls and there’s an academically based league that believes in scholarship and believes in service and education and we all ended up in it,” Buddie says, “I don’t think that would be a bad thing.”
THE ONLY THING that feels certain is Army-Navy. If there’s something both schools are committed to, it’s America’s Game.
There’s nothing else like it. Where else could a coach be tempted to correct a president of the United States? It happened to Niumatalolo once when George W. Bush wandered through a pre-game drill.
“You don’t know how to say, ‘You’re going to get run over. You better move back over here,'” Niumatalolo says. “He has all his security guards with him, so you just tell your kids, ‘Watch out. Don’t run over the president. Don’t run an out-route into him, go wider.’ It’s bizarre.”
And it’s an honor, Niumatalolo says. For a kid from La’ie, Hawai’i, to grow up and meet multiple presidents is special.
Monken struggles to describe the intensity of the game.
“It’s never just a play. It’s always the most important play of the game,” he says. “It’s a great game to be a part of because of who we represent — the men and women that serve and are all over the world watching. And if they can’t watch, they’re listening. And if they can’t watch or listen, they’re parked in a foxhole somewhere with their eyes on some bad guys knowing it’s going on.”
Gladchuk says there’s a reason it’s on so many bucket lists.
“There are people who like to go to a national championship game or they may want to go to the Super Bowl because of their affiliation with the teams or they want to get to the U.S. Open because they’re a Freddie Couples fan,” he says. “But everyone’s an American, and everyone takes great pride in something that exudes what the country stands for. And it’s all on display in a four-hour time frame on the second week in December.”
Thoroughbred racing suffered its most ignominious, industry-deflating moment 50 years ago today with the breakdown of Ruffian, an undefeated filly running against Foolish Pleasure in a highly promoted match race at Belmont Park. Her tragic end on July 6, 1975, was a catastrophe for the sport, and observers say racing has never truly recovered.
Two years earlier, during the rise of second-wave feminism, the nation had been mesmerized by a “Battle of the Sexes” tennis match between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs. King’s win became a rallying cry for women everywhere. The New York Racing Association, eager to boost daily racing crowds in the mid-1970s, proposed a competition similar to that of King and Riggs. They created a match race between Kentucky Derby winner Foolish Pleasure and Ruffian, the undefeated filly who had dominated all 10 of her starts, leading gate to wire.
“In any sport, human or equine, it’s really impossible to say who was the greatest,” said outgoing Jockey Club chairman Stuart Janney III, whose parents, Stuart and Barbara, owned Ruffian. “But I’m always comfortable thinking of Ruffian as being among the four to five greatest horses of all time.”
Ruffian, nearly jet black in color and massive, was the equine version of a Greek goddess. At the age of 2, her girth — the measurement of the strap that secures the saddle — was just over 75 inches. Comparatively, racing legend Secretariat, a male, had a 76-inch girth when he was fully developed at the age of 4.
Her name also added to the aura. “‘Ruffian’ was a little bit of a stretch because it tended to be what you’d name a colt, but it turned out to be an appropriate name,” Janney said.
On May 22, 1974, Ruffian equaled a Belmont Park track record, set by a male, in her debut at age 2, winning by 15 lengths. She set a stakes record later that summer at Saratoga in the Spinaway, the most prestigious race of the year for 2-year-old fillies. The next spring, she blew through races at longer distances, including the three races that made up the so-called Filly Triple Crown.
Some in the media speculated that she had run out of female competition.
Foolish Pleasure had meanwhile ripped through an undefeated 2-year-old season with championship year-end honors. However, after starting his sophomore campaign with a win, he finished third in the Florida Derby. He also had recovered from injuries to his front feet to win the Wood Memorial and then the Kentucky Derby.
Second-place finishes in the Preakness and Belmont Stakes left most observers with the idea that Foolish Pleasure was the best 3-year-old male in the business.
Following the Belmont Stakes, New York officials wanted to test the best filly against the best colt.
The original thought was to include the Preakness winner, Master Derby, in the Great Match Race, but the team of Foolish Pleasure’s owner, trainer and rider didn’t want a three-horse race. Since New York racing had guaranteed $50,000 to the last-place horse, they paid Master Derby’s connections $50,000 not to race. Thus, the stage was set for an equine morality play.
“[Ruffian’s] abilities gave her the advantage in the match race,” Janney said. “If she could do what she did in full fields [by getting the early lead], then it was probably going to be even more effective in a match.”
Several ballyhooed match races in sports history had captured the world’s attention without incident — Seabiscuit vs. Triple Crown winner War Admiral in 1938, Alsab vs. Triple Crown winner Whirlaway in 1942, and Nashua vs. Swaps in 1955. None of those races, though, had the gender divide “it” factor.
The Great Match Race attracted 50,000 live attendees and more than 18 million TV viewers on CBS, comparable to the Grammy Awards and a pair of NFL “Sunday Night Football” games in 2024.
Prominent New York sportswriter Dick Young wrote at the time that, for women, “Ruffian was a way of getting even.”
“I can remember driving up the New Jersey Turnpike, and the lady that took the toll in one of those booths was wearing a button that said, ‘I’m for her,’ meaning Ruffian,” Janney said.
As the day approached, Ruffian’s rider, Jacinto Vasquez, who also was the regular rider of Foolish Pleasure including at the Kentucky Derby, had to choose whom to ride for the match race.
“I had ridden Foolish Pleasure, and I knew what he could do,” Vasquez told ESPN. “But I didn’t think he could beat the filly. He didn’t have the speed or stamina.”
Braulio Baeza, who had ridden Foolish Pleasure to victory in the previous year’s premier 2-year-old race, Hopeful Stakes, was chosen to ride Foolish Pleasure.
“I had ridden Foolish Pleasure and ridden against Ruffian,” Baeza said, with language assistance from his wife, Janice Blake. “I thought Foolish Pleasure was better than Ruffian. She just needed [early race] pressure because no one had ever pressured her.”
The 1⅛ mile race began at the start of the Belmont Park backstretch in the chute. In an ESPN documentary from 2000, Jack Whitaker, who hosted the race telecast for CBS, noted that the atmosphere turned eerie with dark thunderclouds approaching before the race.
Ruffian hit the side of the gate when the doors opened but straightened herself out quickly and assumed the lead. “The whole world, including me, thought that Ruffian was going to run off the screen and add to her legacy,” said longtime New York trainer Gary Contessa, who was a teenager when Ruffian ruled the racing world.
However, about ⅛ of a mile into the race, the force of Ruffian’s mighty strides snapped two bones in her front right leg.
“When she broke her leg, it sounded like a broken stick,” Vasquez said. “She broke her leg between her foot and her ankle. When I pulled up, the bone was shattered above the ankle. She couldn’t use that leg at all.”
It took Ruffian a few moments to realize what had happened to her, so she continued to run. Vasquez eventually hopped off and kept his shoulder leaning against her for support.
“You see it, but you don’t want to believe it,” Janney said.
Baeza had no choice but to have Foolish Pleasure finish the race in what became a macabre paid workout. The TV cameras followed him, but the eyes of everyone at the track were on the filly, who looked frightened as she was taken back to the barn area.
“When Ruffian broke down, time stood still that day,” Contessa said. Yet time was of the essence in an attempt to save her life.
Janney said that Dr. Frank Stinchfield — who was the doctor for the New York Yankees then and was “ahead of his time in fixing people’s bones” — called racing officials to see whether there was anything he could do to help with Ruffian.
New York veterinarian Dr. Manny Gilman managed to sedate Ruffian, performed surgery on her leg and, with Stinchfield’s help, secured her leg in an inflatable cast. When Ruffian woke up in the middle of the night, though, she started fighting and shattered her bones irreparably. Her team had no choice but to euthanize her at approximately 2:20 a.m. on July 7.
“She was going full bore trying to get in front of [Foolish Pleasure] out of the gate,” Baeza said. “She gave everything there. She gave her life.”
Contessa described the time after as a “stilled hush over the world.”
“When we got the word that she had rebroken her leg, the whole world was crying,” Contessa said. “I can’t reproduce the feeling that I had the day after.”
The Janneys soon flew to Maine for the summer, and they received a round of applause when the pilot announced their presence. At the cottage, they were met by thousands of well-wishing letters.
“We all sat there, after dinner every night, and we wrote every one of them back,” Janney said. “It was pretty overwhelming, and that didn’t stop for a long time. I still get letters.”
Equine fatalities have been part of the business since its inception, like the Triple Crown races and Breeders’ Cup. Some have generated headlines by coming in clusters, such as Santa Anita in 2019 and Churchill Downs in 2023. However, breakdowns are not the only factor, and likely not the most influential one, in the gradual decline of horse racing’s popularity in this country.
But the impact from the day of Ruffian’s death, and that moment, has been ongoing for horse racing.
“There are people who witnessed the breakdown and never came back,” Contessa said.
Said Janney: “At about that time, racing started to disappear from the national consciousness. The average person knows about the Kentucky Derby, and that’s about it.”
Equine racing today is a safer sport now than it was 50 years ago. The Equine Injury Database, launched by the Jockey Club in 2008, says the fatality rate nationally in 2024 was just over half of what it was at its launch.
“We finally have protocols that probably should have been in effect far sooner than this,” Contessa said. “But the protocols have made this a safer game.”
Said Vasquez: “There are a lot of nice horses today, but to have a horse like Ruffian, it’s unbelievable. Nobody could compare to Ruffian.”
ESPN baseball reporter. Covered the Washington Wizards from 2014 to 2016 and the Washington Nationals from 2016 to 2018 for The Washington Post before covering the Los Angeles Dodgers and MLB for the Los Angeles Times from 2018 to 2024.
NEW YORK — A blunder that typifies the current state of the New York Yankees, who find themselves in the midst of their second six-game losing streak in three weeks, happened in front of 41,401 fans at Citi Field on Saturday, and almost nobody noticed.
The Yankees were jogging off the field after securing the third out of the fourth inning of their 12-6 loss to the Mets when shortstop Anthony Volpe, as is standard for teams across baseball at the end of innings, threw the ball to right fielder Aaron Judge as he crossed into the infield from right field.
Only Judge wasn’t looking, and the ball nailed him in the head, knocking his sunglasses off and leaving a small cut near his right eye. The wound required a bandage to stop the bleeding, but Judge stayed in the game.
“Confusion,” Yankees manager Aaron Boone said. “I didn’t know what happened initially. [It just] felt like something happened. Of course I was a little concerned.”
Avoiding an injury to the best player in baseball was on the Yankees’ very short list of positives in another sloppy, draining defeat to their crosstown rivals. With the loss, the Yankees, who held a three-game lead over the Toronto Blue Jays in the American League East standings entering June 30, find themselves tied with the Tampa Bay Rays for second place three games behind the Blue Jays heading into Sunday’s Subway Series finale.
The nosedive has been fueled by messy defense and a depleted pitching staff that has encountered a wall.
“It’s been a terrible week,” said Boone, who before the game announced starter Clarke Schmidt will likely undergo season-ending Tommy John surgery.
For the second straight day, the Mets capitalized on mistakes and cracked timely home runs. After slugging three homers in Friday’s series opener, the Mets hit three more Saturday — a grand slam in the first inning from Brandon Nimmo to take a 4-0 lead and two home runs from Pete Alonso to widen the gap.
Nimmo’s blast — his second grand slam in four days — came after Yankees left fielder Jasson Dominguez misplayed a ball hit by the Mets’ leadoff hitter in the first inning. On Friday, he misread Nimmo’s line drive and watched it sail over his head for a double. On Saturday, he was slow to react to Starling Marte’s flyball in the left-center field gap and braked without catching or stopping it, allowing Marte to advance to second for a double. Yankees starter Carlos Rodon then walked two batters to load the bases for Nimmo, who yanked a mistake, a 1-2 slider over the wall.
“That slider probably needs to be down,” said Rodon, who allowed seven runs (six earned) over five innings. “A lot of misses today and they punished them.”
Jazz Chisholm Jr.’s throwing woes at third base — a position the Yankees have asked him to play to accommodate DJ LeMahieu at second base — continued in the second inning when he fielded Tyrone Taylor’s groundball and sailed a toss over first baseman Cody Bellinger’s head. Taylor was given second base and scored moments later on Marte’s RBI single.
The Yankees were charged with their second error in the Mets’ four-run seventh inning when center fielder Trent Grisham charged Francisco Lindor’s single up the middle and had it bounce off the heel of his glove.
The mistake allowed a run to score from second base without a throw, extending the Mets lead back to three runs after the Yankees had chipped their deficit, and allowed a heads-up Lindor to advance to second base. Lindor later scored on Alonso’s second home run, a three-run blast off left-hander Jayvien Sandridge in the pitcher’s major league debut.
“Just got to play better,” Judge said. “That’s what it comes down to. It’s fundamentals. Making a routine play, routine. It’s just the little things. That’s what it kind of comes down to. But every good team goes through a couple bumps in the road.”
This six-game losing skid has looked very different from the Yankees’ first. That rough patch, consisting of losses to the Boston Red Sox and Los Angeles Angels, was propelled by offensive troubles. The Yankees scored six runs in the six games and gave up just 16. This time, run prevention is the issue; the Yankees have scored 34 runs and surrendered 54 in four games against the Blue Jays in Toronto and two in Queens.
“The offense is starting to swing the bat, put some runs on the board,” Boone said. “The pitching, which has kind of carried us a lot this season, has really, really struggled this week. We haven’t caught the ball as well as I think we should.
“So, look, when you live it and you’re going through it, it sucks, it hurts. But you got to be able to handle it. You got to be able to deal with it. You got to be able to weather it and come out of this and grow.”
Bobby Jenks, a two-time All-Star pitcher for the Chicago White Sox who was on the roster when the franchise won the 2005 World Series, died Friday in Sintra, Portugal, the team announced.
Jenks, 44, who had been diagnosed with adenocarcinoma, a form of stomach cancer, this year, spent six seasons with the White Sox from 2005 to 2010 and also played for the Boston Red Sox in 2011. The reliever finished his major league career with a 16-20 record, 3.53 ERA and 173 saves.
“We have lost an iconic member of the White Sox family today,” White Sox chairman Jerry Reinsdorf said in a statement. “None of us will ever forget that ninth inning of Game 4 in Houston, all that Bobby did for the 2005 World Series champions and for the entire Sox organization during his time in Chicago. He and his family knew cancer would be his toughest battle, and he will be missed as a husband, father, friend and teammate. He will forever hold a special place in all our hearts.”
After Jenks moved to Portugal last year, he was diagnosed with a deep vein thrombosis in his right calf. That eventually spread into blood clots in his lungs, prompting further testing. He was later diagnosed with adenocarcinoma and began undergoing radiation.
In February, as Jenks was being treated for the illness, the White Sox posted “We stand with you, Bobby” on Instagram, adding in the post that the club was “thinking of Bobby as he is being treated.”
In 2005, as the White Sox ended an 88-year drought en route to the World Series title, Jenks appeared in six postseason games. Chicago went 11-1 in the playoffs, and he earned saves in series-clinching wins in Game 3 of the ALDS at Boston, and Game 4 of the World Series against the Houston Astros.
In 2006, Jenks saved 41 games, and the following year, he posted 40 saves. He also retired 41 consecutive batters in 2007, matching a record for a reliever.
“You play for the love of the game, the joy of it,” Jenks said in his last interview with SoxTV last year. “It’s what I love to do. I [was] playing to be a world champion, and that’s what I wanted to do from the time I picked up a baseball.”
A native of Mission Hills, California, Jenks appeared in 19 games for the Red Sox and was originally drafted by the then-Anaheim Angels in the fifth round of the 2000 draft.
Jenks is survived by his wife, Eleni Tzitzivacos, their two children, Zeno and Kate, and his four children from a prior marriage, Cuma, Nolan, Rylan and Jackson.