ANNAPOLIS, Md. – On the fourth day of the U.S. federal government shutdown, the Air Force and Navy football teams did their part by ceasing to play defense.

Make touchdowns, not war.

But there are no moral victories in football.

After his feisty Falcons lost 34-31 to Navy on a Saturday afternoon when the scoreboard lit up like a laser show and tackling was strictly optional, dejected Air Force coach Troy Calhoun groused: “We didn’t come here to be close.”

Wearing a ballcap proudly emblazoned with USA in red, white, and blue letters, Secretary of War Pete Hegseth flipped the coin before kickoff, then bore witness to the shock and awe of two military academy offenses that exploded for nearly 1,000 yards between them.

Maybe the best defense is a good offense.

Or perhaps the Falcons, surrendering an average of 44 points per game this season against FCS-caliber foes, are utterly defenseless. “It’s cutting deep. It’s not a fun thing,” said Air Force senior nose guard Payton Zdroik.

He and his defensive mates couldn’t make a stop at the end of the fourth quarter to give the Falcons a shot at pulling off the upset against the undefeated Midshipmen.

 “I can’t B.S. anybody,” Zdroik said. “The defense has an issue right now … We know it. Everyone knows it.”.

Since Wednesday, regional offices for the Department of Veteran Affairs have been closed because legislators in nearby Washington, D.C., are engaged in partisan finger-pointing that could do billions of dollars of damage to the American economy on a weekly basis.

But football with the Commander-in-Chief’s Trophy at stake?

That’s essential bread and circus that America can’t live without.

“All hands on deck,” said Air Force athletic director Nathan Pine.

Outside the visitors’ locker room, Pine handed out the disappointing statistical analysis of the Falcons’ fourth loss of this young season, because football communications director Troy Garnhart was a government employee benched on the no-fly list by the government shutdown.

While football teams go out to play, the grunts behind the scenes pay the price of political gridlock.

How does a taxpayer-supported military academy get around the constraints of a federal government shutdown in order to airlift a football team more than halfway across the country?

Nobody asked me but: It doesn’t feel right when playing football is a priority over the imminent layoffs of federal employees promised by White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt.

Make it make sense to me. Pine tried. He explained the Falcons football team is a privately funded enterprise operated under the guise of the Air Force Academy Athletic Corporation.

“We were playing the game. Period,” Calhoun said. “We never had any other inclination for anything but that, even though we’re well aware there’s a government shutdown.” 

The Smithsonian Museum won’t be forced to shutter its doors until at least next weekend.  So maybe there’s time to donate the helmet of AFA quarterback Liam “The Great Sphinx” Szarka. He produced another museum-quality piece of art in only his second start for the Zoomies, throwing for  212 yards, running for 152, and producing four touchdowns with his arm or legs.

I’d love to tell you what Szarka, a sophomore from Grandview High School in Aurora, thinks about honoring the grand tradition of great dual-threat quarterbacks for the Falcons.

Calhoun, however, has zipped his quarterback’s lip. The reasoning? It’s as nonsensical as the government shutdown. Although this young and able-bodied man is entrusted with operating the Air Force offense, Calhoun doesn’t believe a sophomore like Szarka is man enough to speak for himself.

So don’t even ask, because The Great Sphinx of Szarka is not allowed to tell.

With Navy quarterback Blake Horvath setting a school record with 469 total yards from scrimmage, the action was so fast and furious that you could miss a touchdown if you blinked. There were only four punts in the game, and twice as many touchdowns.

Transfixed by the offensive fireworks, I hustled from the press box to the field late in the fourth quarter. Bounding off the final step from the stands onto the sideline, I was so distracted that I almost stepped on Hegseth, who was striding with purpose toward the Navy bench.

I’m not certain the heavily armed security detail for the Secretary of War would’ve taken too kindly to me clumsily bumping into Hegseth.

But I missed him.

Maybe that figures.

On this afternoon, there was no stopping any military man on the march.