P
Pachuco
Guest
Maybe it's the fact that even though I have reached a new decade in my life, I continue to view the game with the same idealism of a young boy first challenged by the tough choices that integrity demands.
Maybe it's because I experienced Notre Dame football as a child, and remember the snow-riddled backyard gridiron matches when I would imagine running the ball like Reggie Brooks, tackling the bigger kids like Jeff Burris, and throwing the ball like Kevin McDougal. At a time when Notre Dame was playing dominant football, it was those types of players that inspired me the most. The one's who expressed their devotion for the game with an effort greater than mere ego. The game was a representation of their belief in the value of team preparation, hard work, and sportsmanship.
Maybe it's my reality that Notre Dame football inspired me beyond the game, expanding my impression of how a true competitor should conduct himself on and off the field, with passion, grit, and a will-to-win beyond desire and empty rhetoric. I was experiencing the values that sustain and uphold the nature of winning at a level that far surpasses accolades and fame. It was winning for a family. It was pride in the way a community (of fans, coaches, teammates, workers) carries itself in the face of national attention and the harsh scrutiny from those unfamiliar with such an environment and experience.
Maybe it's because the University of Notre Dame would eventually become my home for Undergraduate life, a few years after witnessing the stadium expand its understated reddish brick walls into a massive grayish-white fortress. It was during those years that people really began to lean on tradition more than I had ever experienced as a child. As a kid, the tradition was not a selling point, but rather an organic and genuine appreciation for good football and even better community. I heard the stories on occasion and watched Rudy, but it was seeing Lee Becton carrying a football around campus a week after he had a bad fumble that inspired me.
After Lou's departure, the football team began to underperform in ways that even Lou's last few years had not shown us. People began to realize that we had quite a bit to lose with a bad football team, and our national reputation became a point of crisis. The discussion of money generating revenues, the power of alumni disdain, and revolving coaches became conversations that had escaped my understanding of ND football as a child. I first began hearing some fans start to pimp the value of a Notre Dame degree, make fun of the education and literacy of our opponents, and criticize kids from other teams for being thugs (all of these lame excuses for losing and negative examples of promoting the value of education). Now it's those same examples plus generally cruel comments about our elder fans ("old people"), our players being criticized for "playing like pussies", the need to fire our coaches, bipolar expectations, too much unnecessary self promotion and pointless media conferences to keep everyone at home feeling cosy and assured, recycled clips from the days of lore, and everyone seeming to be an expert.
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Anyway, I was prompted to share these thoughts not by the loss to USC, the arrogant comments from Lane Kiffin and a few USC players, or the ND haters who yearly disparage our school with their disdain for anything Irish (shoot, just read some of the posts here and other ND forums, and especially the ESPN boards). These things upset me as much as the next ND fan, but bother me less knowing that fans naturally hate Notre Dame because we are not the school they support (there's logic here) and we have always had a way of generating attention even though we have not produced truly exceptional football since the early 90s.
Instead, it was the little speech by Tom Hammond after the game as the camera panned over the crowd during the singing of the alma mater. I can't even remember his exact words so much as his praise for USC's performance and the utter disappointment that Notre Dame must be feeling after investing so much time on publicity, uniforms, music, towels, etc. The gist of his criticism and remarks of pity: Even with all this, Notre Dame failed.
Yet, when I watched the students singing the alma mater and simultaneously heard this lazy speech from another talking head about failing to live up to expectations and staging a victory that never happened, it made perfect sense why I am a Notre Dame fan. I am a Notre Dame fan because there is no other way for me to be. I am a Notre Dame fan, not for the talk of tradition, but because I am tradition. And I am a Notre Dame fan because Notre Dame fans battle and Notre Dame fans stick with each other through the bad and the good, because this is what we expect of our coaches and our players, and we are leaders just as much as they are. As it relates to our football team and other sports beyond football, Notre Dame fans love their University, their coaches, their players, no matter what. Because that's what community is here at Notre Dame. It's not tradition. It's family. And there's really no excuse to be any other way.
Maybe it's because I experienced Notre Dame football as a child, and remember the snow-riddled backyard gridiron matches when I would imagine running the ball like Reggie Brooks, tackling the bigger kids like Jeff Burris, and throwing the ball like Kevin McDougal. At a time when Notre Dame was playing dominant football, it was those types of players that inspired me the most. The one's who expressed their devotion for the game with an effort greater than mere ego. The game was a representation of their belief in the value of team preparation, hard work, and sportsmanship.
Maybe it's my reality that Notre Dame football inspired me beyond the game, expanding my impression of how a true competitor should conduct himself on and off the field, with passion, grit, and a will-to-win beyond desire and empty rhetoric. I was experiencing the values that sustain and uphold the nature of winning at a level that far surpasses accolades and fame. It was winning for a family. It was pride in the way a community (of fans, coaches, teammates, workers) carries itself in the face of national attention and the harsh scrutiny from those unfamiliar with such an environment and experience.
Maybe it's because the University of Notre Dame would eventually become my home for Undergraduate life, a few years after witnessing the stadium expand its understated reddish brick walls into a massive grayish-white fortress. It was during those years that people really began to lean on tradition more than I had ever experienced as a child. As a kid, the tradition was not a selling point, but rather an organic and genuine appreciation for good football and even better community. I heard the stories on occasion and watched Rudy, but it was seeing Lee Becton carrying a football around campus a week after he had a bad fumble that inspired me.
After Lou's departure, the football team began to underperform in ways that even Lou's last few years had not shown us. People began to realize that we had quite a bit to lose with a bad football team, and our national reputation became a point of crisis. The discussion of money generating revenues, the power of alumni disdain, and revolving coaches became conversations that had escaped my understanding of ND football as a child. I first began hearing some fans start to pimp the value of a Notre Dame degree, make fun of the education and literacy of our opponents, and criticize kids from other teams for being thugs (all of these lame excuses for losing and negative examples of promoting the value of education). Now it's those same examples plus generally cruel comments about our elder fans ("old people"), our players being criticized for "playing like pussies", the need to fire our coaches, bipolar expectations, too much unnecessary self promotion and pointless media conferences to keep everyone at home feeling cosy and assured, recycled clips from the days of lore, and everyone seeming to be an expert.
**************************************************************************************************
Anyway, I was prompted to share these thoughts not by the loss to USC, the arrogant comments from Lane Kiffin and a few USC players, or the ND haters who yearly disparage our school with their disdain for anything Irish (shoot, just read some of the posts here and other ND forums, and especially the ESPN boards). These things upset me as much as the next ND fan, but bother me less knowing that fans naturally hate Notre Dame because we are not the school they support (there's logic here) and we have always had a way of generating attention even though we have not produced truly exceptional football since the early 90s.
Instead, it was the little speech by Tom Hammond after the game as the camera panned over the crowd during the singing of the alma mater. I can't even remember his exact words so much as his praise for USC's performance and the utter disappointment that Notre Dame must be feeling after investing so much time on publicity, uniforms, music, towels, etc. The gist of his criticism and remarks of pity: Even with all this, Notre Dame failed.
Yet, when I watched the students singing the alma mater and simultaneously heard this lazy speech from another talking head about failing to live up to expectations and staging a victory that never happened, it made perfect sense why I am a Notre Dame fan. I am a Notre Dame fan because there is no other way for me to be. I am a Notre Dame fan, not for the talk of tradition, but because I am tradition. And I am a Notre Dame fan because Notre Dame fans battle and Notre Dame fans stick with each other through the bad and the good, because this is what we expect of our coaches and our players, and we are leaders just as much as they are. As it relates to our football team and other sports beyond football, Notre Dame fans love their University, their coaches, their players, no matter what. Because that's what community is here at Notre Dame. It's not tradition. It's family. And there's really no excuse to be any other way.
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