This is a couple days late, but here's a related story. It's long so I'll break it up a bit. I think it's a good read.
I'm a subway. I latched on during the Faust years as a young lad as my dad was an ND fan. A good one, but not quite rabid. Also I knew pretty early that I'd end up at Moeller, Faust's old school, so the ND connection was natural.
Fast forward to my teens when I had grown into a rabid fan and my father was right there with me.
Fast forward a few more years(98 to be exact) when I was in my early twenties, foamed at the mouth for ND football but had never been to football mecca to see it for myself.
One Thursday afternoon, my Dad called me at work to tell me he had two tickets to Saturday's game and reservations at the lodge at the US Golf Academy about 1/2 hour south of ND. That Saturday was Halloween and I had a big party planned with my neighbor, but I wasn't going to miss this chance. My girlfriend (now wife) would have to hold down the fort until I returned late from South Bend.
We drove up Friday night and could hardly sleep. We got up very early to get on campus. We did all the tourist things-the Grotto, the Bascillica, bookstore, etc. I especially enjoyed the pre game concert on the steps of the architecture building (I literally teared up a couple times) and the march off from the admin building. (One of the biggest rushes I've ever felt.)
When we walked into the stadium, we looked like Ned Beatty in Rudy. What a great feeling. Anyway, we trounced Baylor and Dad and I made the long trek back to Cincy in time to catch the last couple hours of my party.
I was so pumped from the visit that I went out that week and bought my dad an ND turtleneck and sweater to give him at Christmas.
Christmas came and I gave it to him. That night, he left mass early and walked home due to illness. By New Year's eve, we knew he has late term cancer and was not going to be around long. My parents were letting me throw a New Year's party at their house. I wanted to cancel. He would have nothing of it. In between periods of rest, Dad hung out with my friends who all loved hanging out and having a few with him. This was their last chance. The next day, all the guys crashed in front of Dad's big screen for some serious bowl day festivities.
A few weeks later as things were going downhill, it was time for "the talk." It was time to say the things that needed to be said. He told me that he was happy to finally take me to a game at Notre Dame. We'd witnessed many high school, college and pro games together. He was my biggest fan when I played and we had a great record coaching Jr. high together. The ND trip was a great way to cap it off. I loved my Dad for many reasons, but football was our glue. It was how we bonded. With my brother it was golf and the summer prior, the two had made a long planned golfing trip together, so each of us got our last bonding moment.
Feb. 6 1999, Dad passed away peacefully in a hospital room surrounded by over 20 family and friends. He was never one to turn down a party.
We buried him in the ND garb I had bought for him. I was the only time he was able to wear it.
It may have been a blip on the ND radar, but a late season trouncing of Baylor, late in Davie's tenior will always have a special place in my heart.
Now I have two boys of my own. The 20 month old already gets excited to see a football, helmet or game on TV. The younger is now three weeks old. I can't wait to take them to South Bend for a game.
Happy belated Fathers' Day, fellas.
