Sellout sees shutout
Aggies' bowl spirit dominates in S.A., but Nittany Lions steal the show
by
Matt Flores, San Antonio Express-News
December 29, 1999
It was what you would've expected from two big universities with
proud football traditions. Intense play. Ornery fans. The right to brag over another bowl
championship.
So when the Texas A&M University Aggies lined up against the
Penn State University Nittany Lions for the seventh annual Sylvania Alamo Bowl, it didn't
surprise anyone that a sold-out crowd of about 65,000 would be witnessing a brutal
contest.
What they didn't count on was the final score: Penn State 24,
Texas A&M 0. It was the second time a Texas university was blanked by a team north of
the Red River in the Alamo Bowl. In 1996, Iowa beat Texas Tech 27-0.
Although Aggie faithful clearly outnumbered their Penn State
counterparts, there was no shortage of spirit from either side even in defeat.
"It doesn't matter what the score say," said City
Councilman Ed Garza, an A&M alumnus. "It's having the Aggie spirit that
counts."
Penn State fans angered that the Nittany Lions dropped
their last three games of the regular season said their team was out for blood. It
showed. The Nittany Lions were up 14-0 at halftime, and the rout picked up steam at the
beginning of the fourth quarter when Penn State scored for the third unanswered time.
"When you come from a big school, you expect a lot,"
said John Dadey, a 1990 Penn State grad who lives in Austin and works as a financial
analyst for Dell Computers. "We're a little bit disappointed that we're not playing
for the national championship, but we're happy to be here," Dadey said.
His friend, 1988 Penn State grad Eric DeCinti who now lives in
Dallas, was excited by the opportunity to see his alma mater in his adopted home state.
"For people from Penn State who now live in Texas, it's
great to have a bowl game to go to here," DeCinti said. "Of course, I'd go to a
national championship game anywhere if Penn State were playing in it."
For some Aggies, the two-touchdown lead at halftime didn't seem
too worrisome.
"No way am I feeling nervous," said a confident
Courtney Stevens, a junior elementary education major at Texas A&M. "We've been
down before, we can do it again," she said with a firm nod of her head.
But by the time Penn State tacked on a field goal in the fourth
to go up by 24, many maroon-clad fans started heading for the exits. Many, however, stood
throughout the game part of a school tradition that isn't unique to the home field.
Some Aggie fans were elated just to be among their brethren.
Many who decades ago attended school at College Station reveled in taking
part in the traditions while the team was in town.
"I can still 'hump' with the best of them," laughed
Marisa Cortinas, a 1985 graduate now working in Austin as a budget analyst for the city.
She was referring to the hunkered posture Aggies maintain during certain yells.
Cortinas was among thousands of Aggies who took part in the
school's midnight yell practice outside the Alamodome.
"You're never too old to go to yell practice . . . and
you're never too far away to come down for a game especially when you live in
Austin," Cortinas said. She even managed to drag her friend, Peggie McLaurin, who has
no ties to the school, to the bowl game.
Both were wearing maroon-and-white T-shirts that read
"Maroon Out," a sort of call-to-arms for Aggie faithful to blanket the stands
with the team's colors. "Even non-Aggies love the Aggies," Cortinas said.
Among the A&M faithful were two other local officials: City
Manager Alex Briseņo and County Commissioner Lyle Larson. Briseņo, who attended Texas
A&M as a freshman 30 years ago but completed his degree at Trinity University, said he
still holds Aggie traditions dear to his heart.
"For school spirit, you can't beat A&M," Briseņo
said. "I'm over 50 now, so I didn't make yell practice this time . . . but I was
still humping it at home."
Larson, a second-generation Aggie who said he has been watching
A&M games since he was 2 years old, said missing the game wasn't an option.
"I wouldn't have missed this for the world," Larson
said.
