With most of his undefeated 1919 squad returning, Notre Dame coach Knute Rockne anti­cipated the 1920 season as eagerly as a child looking forward to Christmas. However, Rockne's expectations crashed that spring when the university expelled the team's star, George Gipp. The Laurium, Michigan, native had proven himself to be a gifted triple-threat halfback and fierce tackler since arriving on campus in 1916 as a 21-year-old freshman. A spirited and gifted com­petitor on game days, Gipp was a prima donna during the week. He often skipped practices. When he did show, Rockne occasionally banished him to work with the scrubs, which he did halfheartedly. But on game days, Gipp would again be in the starting lineup.

Reflecting on his temperamental halfback years later Rockne recalled:

After defeating Valparaiso 28–3, Rockne's Ramblers journeyed to West Point in late Octo­ber. Since the series' inception in 1913, the Army-Notre Dame game sparked the interest of New York City's working-class Catholics. Many, who never attended colleges themselves, now professed loyalty to the small Midwestern Catholic school, and rode the train 50 miles north to cheer their "adopted" school to victory. When the rivalry later moved to New York City, many local blue-collar Notre Dame fans rode the city's subways to the game—thus, the origin of Notre Dame's so-called "subway alumni."

Both teams entered the 1920 contest undefeated before a capacity crowd of 10,000 at Cullum Hall Field. This game more than any other may have been a true reflection of the legendary George Gipp's personality and athleticism. In a prelude to the afternoon's performance, Gipp engaged in a drop-kicking competition with Army's Russell "Red" Reeder during the pregame warm-up. When Reeder dropped out at the 40-yard line, Gipp walked to the 50-yard line and called for four footballs. He then drop-kicked two over the north crossbar before turning and nonchalantly kicking the remaining two over the south cross bar.

Soon after the kickoff, the game resembled a street fight. Behind the flashy performance of former Rutgers All-American Walter French, who returned a punt 60 yards for a touchdown and drop-kicked an extra point and field goal, Army took a 17–14 halftime lead. An irate Rock­ne spent much of the intermission reaming Eddie Anderson, whom he blamed for French's long scoring run. The coach then continued his tirade upon spying Gipp leaning against a wall calmly smoking a cigarette. "What about you, Gipp? I don't suppose you have any interest in this game?"

To which Gipp indignantly replied, "Look, Rock, I've got $400 of my own money bet on this game, and I'm not about to blow it."

In the second half, Gipp proved to be true to his word by playing like a "man possessed." After a scoreless third quarter, Gipp's runs and accurate passing led to John Mohardt's second touchdown run. Gipp then drop-kicked the extra point giving Notre Dame a 21–17 lead. Later, Gipp again demonstrated his versatility by returning a punt 50 yards to set up his team's last touchdown. Playing the greatest game of his career in Notre Dame's 27–17 win over Army, Gipp personally accounted for 332 total yards in rushing, passing and kick returns. The 6-foot, 185-pound halfback also kicked three extra points and threw a touchdown pass. Viewing Gipp's performance as a godsend, Eastern newspapermen zealously transferred Gipp's Herculean deeds to paper. While pounding their typewriter keys to meet their respective deadlines, sportswriters began the process of chiseling the name of George Gipp forever into the Golden Age of Ameri­can sports.

In Notre Dame's inaugural homecoming game before 12,000 fans at Cartier Field on Novem­ber 6, Gipp lived up to his press clippings. Despite playing only half the game, Gipp—with Buck Shaw and Eddie Anderson opening a huge hole off tackle—ran 80 yards for a touchdown and passed for another 171 in a 28–0 victory over Purdue.

Rockne's lads had a tougher time of it the next week in eking out a squeaker over Indiana at Indianapolis. Subjected to a severe physical pounding, Gipp exited the game early with what was initially diagnosed as a separated shoulder and possible broken collarbone. Nevertheless, with his team trailing 10–0 late in the second quarter, a heavily taped Gipp returned to score a touchdown and led Notre Dame to a 13–10 win.

On the jubilant trip back to South Bend, Gipp, although severely battered and bruised, de­parted the team train in Chicago to help his friend and former teammate, Grover Malone, coach a high school football team for a few days. Somehow, the coaching sojourn turned into a three-day drinking binge. When he boarded the train to return to South Bend, Gipp had developed a nasty cough. By kickoff the following Saturday, the cough was worse, with the halfback suffering from a fever and sore throat as well. Rockne had no intention of playing his ailing star at North­western.

Gipp watched as his teammates built a 21–7 lead. Almost 1,100 Notre Dame students had ridden the South Shore electric train to Evanston. In the middle of the third quarter, most began yelling, "We want Gipp!"; Northwesternfans joined in, and by the quarter's end the chanting by the crowd of 20,000 reached a crescendo. Usually indifferent to the cheering throngs, Gipp left his seat on the bench and gradually inched closer to Rockne, who was standing on the sideline. Early in the fourth quarter, Rockne looked over his shoulder and spotted Gipp bundled in blankets, standing near his elbow. He asked Gipp if he felt like playing, to which the halfback nonchalantly shrugged before replying, "Sure, let's go."

To the fans' delight, Gipp entered the game and on the first play dropped back and tossed a 35-yard touchdown pass to Eddie Anderson. On Notre Dame's next possession, Gipp decided to spread the wealth and completed a 54-yard scoring pass to Norm Barry, giving Rockne's gang a 33–17 win. Considering Gipp's deteriorating condition, it was an amazing and gutsy performance.

As his teammates were blanketing Michigan State 25–0 on Thanksgiving Day to give the Irish an undefeated season, Gipp lay gravely ill at South Bend's St. Joseph's Hospital, diag­nosed with pneumonia and strep throat. The streptococcus infection quickly spread through Gipp's body. The dying 25-year-old's supposed deathbed request to Rockne to have his boys "win one for the Gipper" has been exhaustively covered in print and immortalized in the 1940 Hollywood movie Knute Rockne: All American.

Gipp died in the early morning hours of December 14, 1920. Over 1,500 Notre Dame stu­dents and townspeople attended the funeral in a blinding snowstorm and later escorted the coffin to the train carrying Gipp's body back to northern Michigan. The pallbearers included teammates Hunk Anderson, Ojay Larson, Joe Brandy and Norm Barry. The coffin was transported by sled the last six miles to the cemetery in Laurium. In his book The Notre Dame Story, Francis Wallace described the scene most poignantly when he wrote, "And the snows of Christmas powdered the grave of Thanksgiving's hero."