As I put the finishing touches on my preview of Friday night’s Holiday Bowl game between USC and Iowa, I’ve received a number of requests from friends and followers to repost a piece I originally wrote during my duties as a Pac-10 columnist for ThePigskinPost.com in January 2003 about my trip to the Orange Bowl in Miami for the last USC-Iowa meeting.
Suffice it to say, this one’s a bit different than the work I do now for USCFootball.com (and the mentions of Ryan Abraham in the story will give readers a sneak peek at just how far Ryan’s business has come since the early days of college football message boards). I have to thank Iowa’s fans for the inspiration. I didn’t head down to Miami with a plan to write this story … but by New Year’s morning, their bluster and bravado made it a no brainer.
Without further ado, here it is: my 2003 Orange Bowl Diary.
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Hog … Err, Hawk Tied! The Orange Bowl Experience
Coming to you live and in color from Miami, it’s the 2003 FedEx Orange Bowl (and surrounding experiences) pitting the tradition-steeped, big-city, used-to-70 degrees in December USC Trojans of the Pac-10 against the “Gollllllllly, it ain’t 33 degrees here in January!” Iowa Hawkeyes from the Big 10. That’s right, for your reading pleasure, this reporter dipped himself deep into the thick south Florida air to bring you this report of the Orange Bowl experience.
After all, it was the first trip to the “OB” (as the game is affectionately called by locals) for both schools. And for a reporter/fan whose biggest impressions of major bowl games rely almost exclusively on Rose Bowl memories, what an opportunity to see how the boys in the orange coats run the show on the other coast. So, with no further ado, let’s get to it:
Tuesday, Dec. 31
“Welcome to American Airlines flight 280 – non-stop service from Los Angeles to Miami International …”
Does the pilot realize he doesn’t have to ramble for four minutes each time he reminds us we’re going to be flying around that “nasty southeast storm”? I mean, he’s killing me because I can already barely grasp what Marlon Brando’s getting at during our feature film, “The Score” …
Does Brando get a “per-mumble” percentage? …
Old thief DeNiro running a jazz dinner club in Montreal? There aren’t enough drugs in the world to get me to come up with that one, let alone turn it into a reasonably successful and enticing caper …
People in Montreal must not be too smart if they’re easily falling for Ed Norton’s “RainMan” act at the museum …
Nothing like a silver-dollar size piece of ham to tide you over until you get off the plane …
Why do people applaud when a plane lands? Aren’t the pilots just doing their job? Someone should applaud me when I wrap an interview with Leeza Gibbons or Daisy Fuentes for my day job …
What will be the first of many “Go Hawks! USC sucks!” is screamed into my face as I quietly try to relieve myself in the airport bathroom. I thought it was just a freak occurrence. I should have known better …
Dodge Intrepid – surprisingly nice ride, leather seats, roomy. Thank goodness for expense accounts …
That’s right, it’s a work trip – trying to nail down a cover feature on Erik Estrada in a meeting on Friday (Ponch, baby!) …
Surprisingly, the Intrepid’s stock stereo system makes my Trojan Marching Band CD sound epic rolling into South Beach …
A quick stop in the room – unpack, freshen up, note the full selection of cable channels (I mean full cable, not that 30-channel smidgen most hotels offer – sweet!), and roll out to the Clevelander …
It’s New Year’s Eve in South Beach. Need I say more? Shrimp cocktail, one pound of stone crabs, a slice of key lime pie and a bottle of champagne later, I’m ready to drink …
Meet fellow Trojans Andy and Joel at the bar. We’re severely outnumbered (as Trojans will be all week until the scoreboard starts working on Thursday night), but ready to throw back some adult beverages and celebrate the New Year with a few hundred other revelers surrounding the Clevelander’s pool …
You have to kick off the festivities with a Maker’s Mark on ice …
Andy and Joel flag down a pair of Kiwi girls (you know, girls from New Zealand … try to keep up, Jethro) they’d met the night before. Throw in a blonde Purdue grad and her boyfriend, and now the party’s on. Who knew the best-looking Big 10 girl in Miami this week wouldn’t be from Iowa? Ok, ok, grads of other Big 10 schools, put your hands down …
Now, it’s time for the 13th “Go Hawks! USC sucks!” on the night (Let’s just refer to that as “GHUS” for space’s sake the rest of the column). I’d ask them to act like they’ve been there before, but I know most of them haven’t (and, no, the Alamo Bowl or your local Piggly Wiggly doesn’t count) …
Midnight, fireworks, “Auld Lang Syne,” and “Let’s Go Hawks” …
Wednesday, Jan. 1
There’s no stopping this party. It’s pouring rain and about 400 people are whooping it up as if it were a clear, dry night …
“GHUS” no. 22 finally causes me to crack to Andy, “Methinks there might be a lot of disappointed large folks dressed in yellow about 48 hours from now.” …
Thank goodness for the time change – 4 a.m. feels like 1 a.m. and we’re still going strong …
We meet the reputed “long snapper” from the early-mid 1990s Trojan teams. I mean, he’s a big guy and he’s got a USC football ring? Even if he wasn’t a player, wouldn’t you go around giving that impression too? Heck, O.J. gives people the idea he actually graduated from USC …
Finally, it’s crash time. 5:15 a.m., but first the cab driver decides he needs to tell me and the couple who are sharing the cab about his big plans to split stock tomorrow. Dude, if you’re a financial player, what are you doing driving a cab around SoBe five hours into the New Year? …
I must have some sort of mental alarm clock. At 11:05 a.m., I wake up and turn on the TV to find the Rose Parade getting underway. It’s weird watching the Rose Parade from 3,000 miles away, especially when you’ve seen the last four in person …
What’s with the float with the kid on the toilet thinking he’s a spaceman? Was Hunter Thompson consulted on this …
The only thing now rivaling the number of screaming Hawks bellowing “GHUS” in my face is the number of Rose Parade floats centered around the centennial of the Wright Bros.’ first flight. Now, there’s a flight that should have been applauded at its termination point …
It’s 1:30 in the afternoon, and there are four football games on. Should I crawl out of bed yet? I didn’t think so …
So, ok, by 2 p.m., the guilt sets in and I’m off to Hollywood Beach, Fla., for the “Patch Beach Bash” official Orange Bowl beach party …
What is it with the Orange Bowl and its jersey patch? They sell them everywhere, you get a discount to certain OB events if you buy one, but really, what’s the big deal? I mean, it’s a freaking jersey patch – a Rose Bowl patch, now there’s something impressive (and you can’t get your hands on one either). Of course, I had my OB patch with me all week …
20 miles of Florida Hwy. A1A later, I’m in Hollywood Beach and it’s pouring again. It’s also clear that no matter how seedy the worst parts of Hollywood, Calif., are, they’ve got nothing on the beachfront sections of Hollywood Beach, Fla. I do feel safe here because the Iowa fans look like bigger and more obvious targets …
I get to the Beach Bash just in time to catch the USC band’s performance in the downpour for 20 Trojans and about 500 Iowans. I flee during the Iowa band’s reasonably solid performance, if only to avoid the upcoming appearances by SHeDAISY and Juanes (don’t ask me – I haven’t the foggiest) …
Before I got to Pro Player Stadium, I thought the PA announcer at the Beach Bash was bad. At one point, he referred to the “University of Iowa Buckeyes.” I’m not from the Midwest, so I’m not sure who that’s more of an affront to at this point (though, after two more days in Miami, I’m thinking it’s Ohio State) …
Brainpower alert: USC fans have the “SoCal Spellout” cheer (that’s right, fans spell out all 18 letters in “Southern California” in a rhythmic cheer). Iowa fans have an Iowa spellout of sorts. It goes, “I … O … WA!” That’s right, “Iowa” is a three-letter word, and the newest letter in the alphabet is “WA” …
Back to Miami for the USC rally at the downtown JW Marriott. Scheduled drinking start: 5 p.m. Scheduled band appearance: 7:30 p.m. …
I run into Ryan, the creator and moderator of USCFootball.com, in the ballroom lobby outside the bar showing the Rose Bowl …
Trojan fans are packed into the bar and about 99 percent are rooting strongly for Washington State. Unfortunately, Mike Price’s team looks like Price is already in Tuscaloosa …
Into the ballroom with about 4,000 other Trojans. The spirit level is higher than I’ve ever seen at one of these pep rallies. As the band files in, the crowd is shoulder-to-shoulder and chest-to-back and roaring …
Midway through the rally, Dr. Art Bartner, longtime director of the band, tells the crowd, “This is the best USC pep rally we’ve ever had.” …
I’m ready for the game to start right now …
Instead, it’s back to SoBe, which is overrun with more Iowa fans than the preceding night thanks to a 20,000-strong rally held at the nearby Miami Beach Convention Center. I have to say, at this point, aside from the not-a-few jerks who have been in my face, I’m truly impressed with the Iowa support …
“GHUS” nos. 33-35 on the trip occur all at the same time, when three Hawkeye/Abercrombie & Fitch Big & Tall poster boys scream at me as I attempt to eat my dinner. It’s followed by the first “you can’t spell ‘suck’ without USC” blast. How novel … My retort? “Guess what, pal? After the game, I get to go back to California. You have to go back to Iowa.” …
This Sugar Bowl game is, uh, poor at best. Florida State is playing their 22nd-string QB (and starting wideout), but Georgia can’t put them away. Still, do I ever wish I were there instead. USC-Georgia would have been a great game on the field. Georgia fans on the Internet have been nothing but great. And the scenery in the stands and on Bourbon Street thanks to a Trojan-Bulldog pairing? Whoa …
Time for an early night. I want to be fully prepared for tomorrow, and I know I won’t be sleeping in too long in the morning. Back to the hotel at 1 a.m. for a little cable viewing and some shuteye…
Thursday, Jan. 2
Tailgating in Miami, Jan. 2, 2003.
Up and ready to go by 12:30 p.m. Game ticket, check. Carson Palmer jersey, check. SC Orange Bowl hat, check. Camera, check. OB patch around my neck, check …
Ah, Jerry’s Famous Deli. Breakfast at 1 p.m. Feels like home …
Rolling up I-95 to Pro Player Stadium by 2:15 p.m. TMB CD in full effect …
The clerk at the Winn Dixie supermarket on Ives Dairy Road (3 miles from Pro Player) says to me as I pay for my Rolling Rock, “Wow, everybody comes in here is goin’ to the Super Bowl!” I choose not to correct her since I don’t think it would matter. Whew, not the sharpest knife in the drawer …
Into the stadium lot, and we’re surrounded by Hawkeyes. Angry Hawkeyes. I’m not sure why they’re so mad, really. Our two teams haven’t played in 26 years and I have no animosity toward Iowa fans other than what I’ve built up in the preceding 36 hours – thanks to these same angry Hawkeyes walking around Miami …
Fortunately, there are about 4-5 Trojan cars around mine and we group together about 15 of us for our own tailgate party …
Angry Hawkeyes pelt a van full of ’SC fans trying to park with beer and apparent insults. Shouldn’t these people be happy? After all, it’s 77 degrees and their team, which was 1-10 three seasons ago, is playing in the Orange Bowl …
Here comes the Ford F350 with the full backyard barbeque grill bracketed tight in the bed to park across from us. And its license plate is from … California?! Sweet …
It’s got three couples in their early 50s. The men drove from Cali starting the previous Friday. The women flew in on New Year’s Eve. And they’ve got the full tailgate setup – tables, chairs, CD player blaring the Stones, alcohol, snacks, honeybaked ham. Not to mention the 4 lb. slab of tri-tip that’s been marinating in a cooler all the way across the country …
Now that’s tailgating …
A group of Trojans just a couple years younger than me – Scott, Jeff, Andreas and Colleen – are offering me beers and BBQ. Plus, Jeff’s an SC grad, with Iowa State parents, who lives in Des Moines. I think I’ve found the one Trojan in the stadium for whom this game is the most important. “I need to be able to go home,” Jeff tells me – more than once …
Dusk begins to settle over the stadium and a few beers and a couple hours of commingling have made Iowa fans a little friendlier. Now, you can even discuss the game with them, as long as you don’t say anything specific about the advantages USC may or may not hold …
That doesn’t mean “GHUS” nos. 55-65 don’t occur on the walk into the stadium …
My seats end up being in the end zone, just above the Trojan band. Two rows above Jeff and his pals. And just one row above and a seat over from Ryan of USCFootball.com, who is feeling the pregame liquids and fired up …
Of course, I’m not exactly Mr. Sobriety at this point …
I pick up a message on my cell phone from my dad right before kickoff. It says, “Uh, I just wanted to remind you in case you weren’t aware … YOU’RE AT THE F***ING ORANGE BOWL GAME!” Nice …
17 seconds into the game, Iowa fan is certain of victory. The 100-yard kickoff return by C.J. Jones is an Orange Bowl record. 7-0 Hawks …
Palmer to Kareem Kelly for 65 yards. Fargas in the end zone moments later. Order restored. 7-7 …
How does Iowa line up offside three times in one quarter? …
Matt Grootegoed sacks Brad Banks, the key play in holding Iowa to a FG. 10-7 Hawks …
The PA announcer needs to chill with his, “There’s a … flaaaaaaaaaag … on the plaaaaaay” line. What a loser …
Did someone forget to tell the PA sound guys in the press box that this is a college football game, not an NFL game, and you don’t need lame dance contests while blaring “YMCA” over the stadium speakers? That’s what the marching bands are for, Dolphin Boy …
The Trojan offense looks very conservative inside the red zone. What would have been touchdowns in previous games turn into a missed FG and a made FG. 10-10 …
Think Norm Chow is setting up the Iowa defense for the second half? Me too …
Banks misses his receiver on a likely TD pass from the one-yard line and, two Hawk penalties later, USC blocks a Nate Kaeding FG attempt at the halftime gun. Momentum-turner? …
The Orange Bowl Halftime Show – nothing spectacular. A bunch of no-name music “stars” lip-synching. Woo-freakin-hoo. Let’s play football …
The second half starts. The Iowa defense looks gassed. Palmer to Mike Williams. 17-10 …
Iowa’s second-half highlight? Downing a punt at the USC one-yard line. Unfortunately for the Hawkeyes, 99 yards and seven plays later, it’s 24-10 …
With USCFootball.com founder Ryan Abraham at the 2003 Orange Bowl.
Ryan has no voice, but that doesn’t keep him from rolling out “covered wagons” and other assorted smack at the drunk and becoming-more-depressed Iowa fans behind us. I guess he’d heard enough Iowa fans running their mouths all week, too …
31-10 as USC slams the ball down the Iowa defense’s throat again, and our section starts the “We’re not physical!” chant at the remaining Iowa fans. Thanks, Fred Barr …
It’s party time in the stands as the 17,000-strong group of USC fans are again nearly alone in a stadium. Trojan fans have grown used to being abandoned by opposition fans in recent weeks (Stanford, UCLA, Notre Dame, now Iowa) …
38-10 and Jeff’s feeling good about his trip back to Des Moines …
Finally, mercifully, Iowa scores against USC’s second- and third-stringers …
Unfortunately, it was 59 minutes and nine seconds of game time and a 38-3 USC run before the Hawks got in the end zone again …
38-17. “Conquest.” Palmer and Pete Carroll tossing oranges from the bowl and MVP trophies out to the team. Carroll then taking the bandstand with the Trojan sword and leading one last version of “Conquest.” What a feeling …
It’s much quieter now in the stadium halls and parking lot. The few Iowa fans that are left out here seem to have run out of their big words sometime around 9:45 p.m. Something must have changed their mood …
Only in Miami: On the drive back to SoBe, I see this billboard on a building on the side of the I-95: “MR. BIDET. For a healthy, clean tush. 981-1111.” I bet Iowa fans could use one of those right about now …
Back in SoBe and I run into New Year’s Eve Andy and Joel again, this time with their pal Gus. It’s time for a 2 a.m. dinner! How about the 18 oz. strip steak at Finnegan’s Way along with a Guinness? Now, that hits the spot …
The 30 Trojan fans in the place blast a “SoCal Spellout” when the highlights come on ESPN. This leaves the five Iowa fans at the bar even quieter than they were …
The walk back to the hotel for some sleep before my morning interview (work trip, remember) and flight home yields this overheard conversation snippet from a pair of young Iowans huddled close in a light rain:
- Female: “I’d never seen the ocean until yesterday!”
- Male: (in an astonished, this-must-be-a-cosmic-union voice): “Neither had I.”
I guess the trip wasn’t a total loss, then, right? …
This mystifying exchange is followed rapidly by one of the local female hospitality engineers running across Collins Ave. in the rain screaming at me, “You comin’ home with me, baby!” Repeatedly. Uh, no, actually, I’m going back to my hotel alone, toothless Ruth. You can keep screaming that and trying to pat my backside all you want, but if there weren’t enough drugs for me to envision DeNiro running a jazz club in Montreal, there certainly aren’t enough, even in Miami, for me to go home with you …
Ah, Miami.
