Master Guns
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Pulled this comment from the SBT read board posted by a long time South Bend resident:
Having lived my entire 53-year life in South Bend and having immersed myself in Irish football longer than most alumni, I feel I'm more than qualified to comment on the current situation. Did I attend ND? No. Couldn't afford it. Didn't work there either unless you count the 15 years at the windows of concession stands under sections 7 and 18. I have seats now, but my intense passion for ND football has been with me since the day, as a seven-year-old, I tried on my Dad's usher's hat and met my hero players who found their way to his club for a celebratory post-game dinner and perhaps an accidental beer in glory days of Ara.
Ara was respected. He was a stand-up guy on an off the field. You felt good, and confident, that this man was leading your team. And when we lost, which wasn't often, it was OK. It wasn't the start of a hopeless downward spiral. Because I knew, even as a kid, that Notre Dame would remain among the game's very elite teams. That was the expectation when your school played its home games in THE STADIUM, the one located at the very epicenter of college football.
Today, 21 years after we were led to our last national championship by our last national championship-caliber coach, we find ourselves no longer a team that is feared, admired and respected, but rather one that gains its attention by being a mediocre curiosity whose performances are the product of the unintended intersection of the exposure granted by a revenue-driven media contract and the ineffective leadership of a revenue-driven head coach. We used to perform under the Big Top. Now we're the sideshow attraction and our coach is the headliner at the freak show.
I say that not to be cruel. I'm sure Charlie, deep inside, wishes he had a normal appearance and good health. But how you handle yourself, how you project, especially if you are the head football coach at the University of Notre Dame, cannot help but have an effect on those under your charge. A good effect is preferable to a bad or neutral effect. At the Friday Kickoff Luncheons at the Joyce Center, current and former players, assistant coaches and other guests are brought to the stage for brief interviews after everyone has eaten. Before lunch, the various interviewees all interact with fans who approach them at the table they share. Charlie, the last person called to the stage, approaches not from the aforementioned interviewee table but from behind the stage curtain where, apparently, he has chosen to isolate himself until it's time for his grand entrance. And grand it is, slowly shuffling up the stairs, trudging across the stage and slouching his mass into the chair from where, eyes in a puffy squint, he unenthusiastically short-breaths his answers to Bob Nagle's questions. Out of polite obligation, the audience unenthusiastically applauds. No one is inspired. Ara, by contrast, inspired. Lou hyper-inspired. The players deserve better from their current coach.
Indeed, they deserve a different coach. One who, at the very least, projects the energy, enthusiasm, intensity and sense of urgency he expects of them. One who exhibits a level of fitness that is, well, reasonable for one whose job involves coaching physically fit athletes. US Marines would not be led into battle by a bloated, lard-assed commander.
Lastly, the head coach represents Notre Dame and its reputation as a respected faith-based institution of higher learning. If reports of his arrogance and profanity are valid, his character alone would be reason to end his association with Notre Dame. The fact that he has been ineffective as a coach is the more compelling statement that screams for his dismissal. Regardless of how fans of other teams interpret Notre Dame's plight, the fact remains that we have no conference title that serves as a consolation prize should we not come away with a 12th national championship. Here, truly, it's all or nothing. We can and will return to sustainable greatness and achieve national championships again. But not under Coach Weis.
Having lived my entire 53-year life in South Bend and having immersed myself in Irish football longer than most alumni, I feel I'm more than qualified to comment on the current situation. Did I attend ND? No. Couldn't afford it. Didn't work there either unless you count the 15 years at the windows of concession stands under sections 7 and 18. I have seats now, but my intense passion for ND football has been with me since the day, as a seven-year-old, I tried on my Dad's usher's hat and met my hero players who found their way to his club for a celebratory post-game dinner and perhaps an accidental beer in glory days of Ara.
Ara was respected. He was a stand-up guy on an off the field. You felt good, and confident, that this man was leading your team. And when we lost, which wasn't often, it was OK. It wasn't the start of a hopeless downward spiral. Because I knew, even as a kid, that Notre Dame would remain among the game's very elite teams. That was the expectation when your school played its home games in THE STADIUM, the one located at the very epicenter of college football.
Today, 21 years after we were led to our last national championship by our last national championship-caliber coach, we find ourselves no longer a team that is feared, admired and respected, but rather one that gains its attention by being a mediocre curiosity whose performances are the product of the unintended intersection of the exposure granted by a revenue-driven media contract and the ineffective leadership of a revenue-driven head coach. We used to perform under the Big Top. Now we're the sideshow attraction and our coach is the headliner at the freak show.
I say that not to be cruel. I'm sure Charlie, deep inside, wishes he had a normal appearance and good health. But how you handle yourself, how you project, especially if you are the head football coach at the University of Notre Dame, cannot help but have an effect on those under your charge. A good effect is preferable to a bad or neutral effect. At the Friday Kickoff Luncheons at the Joyce Center, current and former players, assistant coaches and other guests are brought to the stage for brief interviews after everyone has eaten. Before lunch, the various interviewees all interact with fans who approach them at the table they share. Charlie, the last person called to the stage, approaches not from the aforementioned interviewee table but from behind the stage curtain where, apparently, he has chosen to isolate himself until it's time for his grand entrance. And grand it is, slowly shuffling up the stairs, trudging across the stage and slouching his mass into the chair from where, eyes in a puffy squint, he unenthusiastically short-breaths his answers to Bob Nagle's questions. Out of polite obligation, the audience unenthusiastically applauds. No one is inspired. Ara, by contrast, inspired. Lou hyper-inspired. The players deserve better from their current coach.
Indeed, they deserve a different coach. One who, at the very least, projects the energy, enthusiasm, intensity and sense of urgency he expects of them. One who exhibits a level of fitness that is, well, reasonable for one whose job involves coaching physically fit athletes. US Marines would not be led into battle by a bloated, lard-assed commander.
Lastly, the head coach represents Notre Dame and its reputation as a respected faith-based institution of higher learning. If reports of his arrogance and profanity are valid, his character alone would be reason to end his association with Notre Dame. The fact that he has been ineffective as a coach is the more compelling statement that screams for his dismissal. Regardless of how fans of other teams interpret Notre Dame's plight, the fact remains that we have no conference title that serves as a consolation prize should we not come away with a 12th national championship. Here, truly, it's all or nothing. We can and will return to sustainable greatness and achieve national championships again. But not under Coach Weis.
