Who needs the Army-Navy game, anyway?

By Ron Kantowski

Friday, Sept. 26, 2008 | 2 a.m.

Remember the scene in “American Graffiti” where an underage Toad goes into the liquor store to buy booze for his date and slides in a pint of whiskey among sundry ordinary items, hoping the clerk won’t notice?

“Yeah, aah, let me have a Three Musketeers, aah, and a ballpoint pen there, a comb, a pint of Old Harper, a couple of flashlight batteries and some of this beef jerky.”

I was reminded of that when I asked Mike Sanford this week about the many storied college football rivalries he has been part of as a player or coach, and where Saturday’s UNR-UNLV contretemps at Sam Boyd Stadium ranks by comparison.

“USC-UCLA, USC-Notre Dame, Army-Navy, Stanford-Cal, VMI-The Citadel, Utah-BYU, Purdue-Indiana ...”

Wait a minute. Did he just say VMI-The Citadel?

OK, here’s the comb and the batteries, Coach. Got an I.D. for VMI-The Citadel?

“It’s the Military Classic of the South,” Sanford blurted. “It’s awesome.”

Yup, he’s legal, all right.

I had never heard of the Military Classic of the South. But you could tell Sanford had. VMI vs. The Citadel has been called Division I-AA’s equivalent of the Army-Navy game.

Sanford was a part of it when he was quarterbacks and tight ends coach at VMI in 1981 and ’82. He just missed Stump Mitchell, my favorite Citadel Bulldog of all time, who graduated in 1980. I didn’t ask Sanford if he’s still haunted by the Ghost of Paul Maguire, but then, aren’t we all?

Thomas Jackson (you probably know him as “Stonewall”), a certified military genius, once served on the board of VMI. Mark Alden, a certified public accountant, still serves on the board of UNLV and UNR. Alden never fought at Bull Run or Antietam or Fredericksburg. Jackson never had to go to Gov. Jim Gibbons with his hand out during a budget crisis. I suppose both men are to be admired.

But with all due respect to the Silver Shalko — the winner of the VMI-The Citadel game gets a silver hat like the one Timothy Hutton wore in “Taps” — the only trophy in which Sanford is interested is John Fremont’s old howitzer; the only rivalry he cares about is UNLV vs. UNR.

“There’s crosstown rivalries, and all that stuff, but I think this is awesome,” said the coach of the suddenly resurgent 3-1 Rebels. “This is huge. The kids who are Las Vegas kids really understand it. The kids who have been here four years also understand it.”

The people who make their homes in the two cities also understand it, but the perception has always been that people in Reno get a little more fired up about it than people in Las Vegas.

If there were a Homeland Security Advisory System for passionate football fans, Las Vegas would be on yellow or orange alert Saturday — elevated and high (on Budweiser). Up in Reno, when the opponent is UNLV, they’ve always seen red, the color code for a severe risk of terrorism, vandalism or, at the very least, a punch in the nose.

“I can’t speak for the people of the city,” Sanford said. “But for me, and our football players and our program, this is the biggest game.”

Throw the finger, throw a helmet at the opposing coach, throw a water bottle and hit the opposing coach in the head. All of those things have happened when these two get together to play a not-so-friendly game of football.

Sanford is 0-3 against UNR. His biggest contribution to the rivalry was refusing to call UNR by its proper name. Until Saturday night, he would refer to the Wolf Pack only as “the team up north.” But after UNLV beat Iowa State in overtime, he called the team up north “Nevada-Reno.” You had to be paying attention, like the clerk in “American Graffiti.” But he said it. I think it was between the comb and the beef jerky.

On Monday a reporter at his press luncheon referred to the Wolf Pack as “the team up north.” Uh-uh, Sanford said. “Nevada-Reno.” I’m sure the football fans up north would have preferred “Nevada,” which is what it says on the front of the team’s uniforms. But nobody down here calls Nevada-Reno “Nevada.” It’s not the official name. Check out the Web site. It’s University of Nevada, Reno.

If it weren’t for the newspaper stylebook, I’d be perfectly happy calling the Wolf Pack “Nevada” or “Chris Ault U.” or even “Nevada Ocho-Cinco,” if that’s what it wanted.

In fact, I kind of like “Nevada Ocho-Cinco” — especially because state officials relocated the school from Elko to Reno in 1885.

Sanford says this is a new year, with new goals and a new approach (it’s called winning), which is why he is referring to the Wolf Pack by its proper name, although it sounded like he was using a hyphen instead of a comma. He even said he respected the job that Ault, a former UNLV assistant, has done as UNR coach — all three times.

As far as Little Brown Jugs (Minnesota-Michigan), Old Oaken Buckets (Purdue-Indiana) and Apple Cups (Washington vs. Washington State) go, the Fremont Cannon is a tinker toy among rivalry trophies. Saturday’s game will be just the 34th time the rivals have met on the football field, with The Pack holding an 18-15 series edge. (In fights in the stands, however, UNLV leads 89-86-1, with 57 knockouts. There has been one draw — Jeff Horton leaving as UNR coach to take the UNLV job. Fans from both sides weren’t sure how to react.)

Just don’t tell Sanford this game isn’t as big as USC-UCLA, USC-Notre Dame, Army-Navy, Stanford-Cal or even VMI-The Citadel — the Military Classic of the South.

“For me, in my world, it’s the biggest one,” he said.