Sep 19 | Georgia Tech

[johnnycando]

Negative thoughts create negative results.
Nobel Prize winning physicists have proven beyond doubt that the physical world is one large sea of energy that flashes into and out of being in milliseconds, over and over again. They have proven that thoughts are what put together and hold together this ever-changing energy field into the ‘objects’ that we see.

Keep It positive my friends. This is only the beginning.

Proven?

Ok man. If you say so.

I mean I'm drinking kool aid anyways. I'd be careful with "proven" minus scholarly resources.



But fuck yeah! Go Irish!!!

 

[Pops Freshenmeyer]

Tickets arrived!

Feel free to come say hello, I will be the guy in the Notre Dame hat.

 

[KPENN]

<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">Just got shouted out and slapped in the face to hype me up by <a href="https://twitter.com/regis">@regis</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/BeatGTech?src=hash">#BeatGTech</a></p>— DK (@DKizer_14) <a href="https://twitter.com/DKizer_14/status/645002886339018752">September 18, 2015</a></blockquote>
<script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>

 

[irishfan]

“I said (to Tuitt), ‘You need to get on the phone and you need to call coach Johnson right now and let him know that,” Kelly recalled this summer. “Well, he got on the phone and called coach Johnson, and Johnson didn’t know that I was there. I was with (then-assistant) Chuck Martin.
“And (Johnson) goes, ‘You’re going to Notre Dame? (To play for) That guy from Grand Valley State?’
“And we could hear him on the phone. And so he’s tearing us apart. We finally had to interrupt and say, ‘You better let him know that we’re here, ‘cause we’re getting quite angry.’ ”

Pretty interesting. The coach who rose up from Georgia Southern and Navy tried to crap on BK for his GVSU background...even though he had also been successful at CMU and Cincy. Seems like there is some odd bad blood between the staffs with this and the Van Gorder thing.

Brian Kelly recounts Notre Dame-Georgia Tech battle for Stephon Tuitt - Notre Dame Insider: Notre Dame Football

 

[Grahambo]

If we won tomorrow, I would have 10 wins as a floor (haha) for the season. We would only have three decent teams left:

Clemson: I think they are over rated, but it is in their house. Should be one of our toughest games.
USC: Duh
Stanford: They have looked like crap so far, but they are still Stanford I suppose.

Outside of that, we will be double digit favorites in every game.

They still have Kevin Hogan. I like our odds.

 

[condoms SUCk]

I'm going to the Cubs/Cardinals game tomorrow so I'll miss most of the game. I'll be keeping track via my phone, but I don't like our odds
Let's hope I'm wrong... GO IRISH.......and GO CUBS GO!!

 

[pkt77242]

They still have David Shaw. I like our odds.

FIFY

 

[Luckylucci]

Georgia Tech averages 40+ points over their last ten games. I have a hard time seeing ND led by Kizer scoring 40.

Yea, 35 is actually my over/under tomorrow for GT's offense. If we can't hold them to 35 or less we lose. I just don't see this offense scoring 40+.

 

[Circa]

Proven?

Ok man. If you say so.

I mean I'm drinking kool aid anyways. I'd be careful with "proven" minus scholarly resources.



But fuck yeah! Go Irish!!!

It's a quantum leap.

 

[TheChosen1]

Yea, 35 is actually my over/under tomorrow for GT's offense. If we can't hold them to 35 or less we lose. I just don't see this offense scoring 40+.

This meaning ND?

 

[Irish YJ]

Pre game tonight

Cold beer
Black Mass

ND gonna do a Whitie Bulger on GT
LISTEN TO ME

 

[Irish YJ]

Pre game tonight

Cold beer
Black Mass

ND gonna do a Whitie Bulger on GT
LISTEN TO ME

 

[mgriff]

So, long post incoming, but it's been a rough day. But I'm hoping it is a good reason we'll win tomorrow.

So I got a call that I've been dreading since July. My grandfather, the man who raised me as his own, had passed out according to my grandmother, and the ambulance was on the way to their home. He's had lung and heart problems for damn near twenty years now, and he's pushing 80.

He was diagnosed with cancer this year, a disease which has killed the majority of his ten brothers and sisters much younger than he. He has outlived every one of them so far, but after an episode in July where he went black and was brought back with a breathing apparatus, he's been frail. This was not something he wanted, he wanted to go quickly, and not suffer a life where he can't walk unassisted or do the things he loved doing.

He just wanted to go, and so today, when I got to my grandmother's and saw the paramedics, I knew he wouldn't be suffering any longer. He had a DNR order, and just looking at the scene when I arrived I knew what was transpiring. Still, you hold out some selfish hope on the way to the hospital, that the man who has been your father you never had as you are the son he never had, that he'd pull through it. He'd beaten strokes, open heart surgery, lung surgeries, knee replacements. He had always come out of it, to our grateful surprise. I was still hoping, selfishly, denying what I saw with my own eyes. We were ushered into the dreaded isolation room where we knew what was happening, but we couldn't accept it until the doc came in and broke the news. He said, "You all know what was happening." We all nodded and listened until he got to the news, our patriarch had passed.

I've had a rough day, he was my father I never had, as I was the son he never had. We loved football and beer, family and children. I am constantly referred to as mini-Chuck in the family, because I physically look so much like him. And I've imitated him for as long as I can remember. I gave him the Chuck nickname when I was a smart-ass 13 year old. No one would get away with saying that to him, except me I was constantly told. We had a bond that I can't even describe, and it started with Notre Dame football.

Our household in PA was majorly female. My uncles were not around as much as my mother and four aunts when I was growing up. The way it went, I learned after a few years, was that the women would sit in the kitchen and watch Penn St. while my grandfather would retire to the living room and relax in his recliner to watch the Irish. Most of my memories of early childhood revolve around my grandmother's house on weekends, and the football games I watched. I stayed with the women as any little man would, so I cheered for Penn St. That was, until I was a little older, and I realized that I was a man damn it, and I belonged in the other room with the man of the house, watching the Irish on Saturday. And that is how my foolish youthful self woke from a female induced Penn St. fandom into my Irish home. I was no more than ten when I made that realization, and it led to some of the best memories of my life.

I could recite a million memories of watching the Irish on Saturday in that living room, reveling in being a man with the idol of my life. He taught me how to throw and catch, so I went out for football to make him proud. It turned out I was good enough for him to go and brag about me at the bar, to the other members of the Minooka Notre Dame Club. I made him proud my grandmother told me, and it made me happy to know he thought of me so highly. He'd always go to South Bend once a year, and he'd always bring me back a football or a hat with a wool ball on the top that said Irish. I still have those hats, and I have his Notre Dame Club jacket too. I would never stop hounding him to let me come to South Bend one time. They drank a lot, see, on the ten hour bus ride to South Bend. I didn't understand when I was younger, but I do now, it just wasn't a place for a barely teen boy.

I never relented and begged him every year. "When you're sixteen" he said, thinking I'd grow out of it. So when I was sixteen I asked again and was refused. So my grandmother stepped in and laid her foot down. When I turned 18, he would take me to South Bend, or face her wrath. He agreed and we still watched the Irish every Saturday in that living room.

It finally happened, I got to go to South Bend as an 18 year old with the Minooka Notre Dame Club. What happens on the trip stays on the trip, but I got obnoxiously drunk on the ride out there, and we woke up at six to get to the stadium to tailgate. We parked the bus a few hundred meters from the stadium. I got to serve booze to passers-by for donations, a job I relished, because it allowed me to talk football with some knowledgeable folks along with my grandfather and revel in my experience. I was serving booze to in the shadow of the stadium! Getting drunk and prepping for my long awaited day.

It turns out they had a lot of friends out there. There were people who would pop by and remember them from years past, and I heard some wild stories.

When I was good and liquored up, we headed for the Trumpets under the Dome, the bookstore, and everything else we could experience before kickoff. I got to see it all, and I even got overpriced apparel from the bookstore, all on Chuck's dime, a man who worked construction his whole life and never went to high school. He did not have a lot of money, but he freely spent what he had to make my experience memorable.

After eating some steak sandwiches, we went ahead and got some tickets from a scalper. It was my drunken job to find this man until my grandfather realized I was in no state and did the work for me. We entered the stadium to watch the Irish take on the Trojans.

The game was a blowout. USC destroyed Ty's Irish but the whole experience was still one of the most memorable of my life. I got to scream at the kickoffs, cheer for the Irish, and share it in the flesh with a man I'd been watching football with for years.

After the game he apologized that we got blown out, and the ND club went on to the Kitty Kat for some gentleman's fun, after some dinner. Being hammered in a strip club with my grandfather was great. (I don't care if any of you think it's inappropriate.) I had a great time as an 18 year old with men in their 50s and 60s at a titty bar. It was fucking hysterical and I still remember the lap dance I got with my grandfather's money.

We left South Bend the next day for the long ten hour ride home. I had a great time and I'll cherish the memories forever. I wanted to take him out to another game when I was old enough, as we never got a chance to get there again. We went to some east coast games, seeing the Irish beat Navy and some others. But we never got back out to South Bend like I wanted. His failing health and my own divorce and finances complicated the chance. In the end even if I could afford it all, he couldn't make the trip.

So as we watched the Irish this season I took in the experience. I remember him yelling at the TV, giving me points about the defensive scheme. No matter how old I got we would still break down the team together. It wasn't perfect, but nothing ever is. It's one thing I've learned in my thirty years on this earth. But it was ours, God damn it, and I'll cherish those memories for the rest of my life.

Today has been hard on my whole family. We spent the night at my grandmother's and I just got home. I couldn't stop thinking about the game tomorrow, and how I need to put on his jacket and sit in his recliner, watching the Irish take on GT. I have been a bit of a pessimist lately, but I think if Chuck can do anything, he'll want the Irish to win. I know Jesus doesn't care about the score, but if he can do it, Chuck will try to get a word in with his Mother, I hear she's a huge fan.

This isn't supposed to be some deep post. I'm very much like my grandfather, I don't get things out talking to everyone. These are just some words I wanted to get out. I know his death has no impact on the outcome of the game. I'm just grasping for something while I'm at a low point. So I'll be cheering hard tomorrow, in Irish gear and on a recliner, while my family gazes at me from the kitchen, saying goodbye in my own way.

 

[pkt77242]

Pre game tonight

Cold beer
Black Mass

ND gonna do a Whitie Bulger on GT
LISTEN TO ME

Have you had so much beer that you are posting double?

 

[jakerbluegold]

Sorry for your loss mgriff. Enjoy your memories.

I feel a strong urge to stay in touch with those that I truly love, and care about, and apparently you have done the same.

It's of the utmost importance to spend time with them, and let them know that you love them.

Cheering extra for you and yours tomorrow!

 

[Circa]

So, long post incoming, but it's been a rough day. But I'm hoping it is a good reason we'll win tomorrow.

So I got a call that I've been dreading since July. My grandfather, the man who raised me as his own, had passed out according to my grandmother, and the ambulance was on the way to their home. He's had lung and heart problems for damn near twenty years now, and he's pushing 80.

He was diagnosed with cancer this year, a disease which has killed the majority of his ten brothers and sisters much younger than he. He has outlived every one of them so far, but after an episode in July where he went black and was brought back with a breathing apparatus, he's been frail. This was not something he wanted, he wanted to go quickly, and not suffer a life where he can't walk unassisted or do the things he loved doing.

He just wanted to go, and so today, when I got to my grandmother's and saw the paramedics, I knew he wouldn't be suffering any longer. He had a DNR order, and just looking at the scene when I arrived I knew what was transpiring. Still, you hold out some selfish hope on the way to the hospital, that the man who has been your father you never had as you are the son he never had, that he'd pull through it. He'd beaten strokes, open heart surgery, lung surgeries, knee replacements. He had always come out of it, to our grateful surprise. I was still hoping, selfishly, denying what I saw with my own eyes. We were ushered into the dreaded isolation room where we knew what was happening, but we couldn't accept it until the doc came in and broke the news. He said, "You all know what was happening." We all nodded and listened until he got to the news, our patriarch had passed.

I've had a rough day, he was my father I never had, as I was the son he never had. We loved football and beer, family and children. I am constantly referred to as mini-Chuck in the family, because I physically look so much like him. And I've imitated him for as long as I can remember. I gave him the Chuck nickname when I was a smart-ass 13 year old. No one would get away with saying that to him, except me I was constantly told. We had a bond that I can't even describe, and it started with Notre Dame football.

Our household in PA was majorly female. My uncles were not around as much as my mother and four aunts when I was growing up. The way it went, I learned after a few years, was that the women would sit in the kitchen and watch Penn St. while my grandfather would retire to the living room and relax in his recliner to watch the Irish. Most of my memories of early childhood revolve around my grandmother's house on weekends, and the football games I watched. I stayed with the women as any little man would, so I cheered for Penn St. That was, until I was a little older, and I realized that I was a man damn it, and I belonged in the other room with the man of the house, watching the Irish on Saturday. And that is how my foolish youthful self woke from a female induced Penn St. fandom into my Irish home. I was no more than ten when I made that realization, and it led to some of the best memories of my life.

I could recite a million memories of watching the Irish on Saturday in that living room, reveling in being a man with the idol of my life. He taught me how to throw and catch, so I went out for football to make him proud. It turned out I was good enough for him to go and brag about me at the bar, to the other members of the Minooka Notre Dame Club. I made him proud my grandmother told me, and it made me happy to know he thought of me so highly. He'd always go to South Bend once a year, and he'd always bring me back a football or a hat with a wool ball on the top that said Irish. I still have those hats, and I have his Notre Dame Club jacket too. I would never stop hounding him to let me come to South Bend one time. They drank a lot, see, on the ten hour bus ride to South Bend. I didn't understand when I was younger, but I do now, it just wasn't a place for a barely teen boy.

I never relented and begged him every year. "When you're sixteen" he said, thinking I'd grow out of it. So when I was sixteen I asked again and was refused. So my grandmother stepped in and laid her foot down. When I turned 18, he would take me to South Bend, or face her wrath. He agreed and we still watched the Irish every Saturday in that living room.

It finally happened, I got to go to South Bend as an 18 year old with the Minooka Notre Dame Club. What happens on the trip stays on the trip, but I got obnoxiously drunk on the ride out there, and we woke up at six to get to the stadium to tailgate. We parked the bus a few hundred meters from the stadium. I got to serve booze to passers-by for donations, a job I relished, because it allowed me to talk football with some knowledgeable folks along with my grandfather and revel in my experience. I was serving booze to in the shadow of the stadium! Getting drunk and prepping for my long awaited day.

It turns out they had a lot of friends out there. There were people who would pop by and remember them from years past, and I heard some wild stories.

When I was good and liquored up, we headed for the Trumpets under the Dome, the bookstore, and everything else we could experience before kickoff. I got to see it all, and I even got overpriced apparel from the bookstore, all on Chuck's dime, a man who worked construction his whole life and never went to high school. He did not have a lot of money, but he freely spent what he had to make my experience memorable.

After eating some steak sandwiches, we went ahead and got some tickets from a scalper. It was my drunken job to find this man until my grandfather realized I was in no state and did the work for me. We entered the stadium to watch the Irish take on the Trojans.

The game was a blowout. USC destroyed Ty's Irish but the whole experience was still one of the most memorable of my life. I got to scream at the kickoffs, cheer for the Irish, and share it in the flesh with a man I'd been watching football with for years.

After the game he apologized that we got blown out, and the ND club went on to the Kitty Kat for some gentleman's fun, after some dinner. Being hammered in a strip club with my grandfather was great. (I don't care if any of you think it's inappropriate.) I had a great time as an 18 year old with men in their 50s and 60s at a titty bar. It was fucking hysterical and I still remember the lap dance I got with my grandfather's money.

We left South Bend the next day for the long ten hour ride home. I had a great time and I'll cherish the memories forever. I wanted to take him out to another game when I was old enough, as we never got a chance to get there again. We went to some east coast games, seeing the Irish beat Navy and some others. But we never got back out to South Bend like I wanted. His failing health and my own divorce and finances complicated the chance. In the end even if I could afford it all, he couldn't make the trip.

So as we watched the Irish this season I took in the experience. I remember him yelling at the TV, giving me points about the defensive scheme. No matter how old I got we would still break down the team together. It wasn't perfect, but nothing ever is. It's one thing I've learned in my thirty years on this earth. But it was ours, God damn it, and I'll cherish those memories for the rest of my life.

Today has been hard on my whole family. We spent the night at my grandmother's and I just got home. I couldn't stop thinking about the game tomorrow, and how I need to put on his jacket and sit in his recliner, watching the Irish take on GT. I have been a bit of a pessimist lately, but I think if Chuck can do anything, he'll want the Irish to win. I know Jesus doesn't care about the score, but if he can do it, Chuck will try to get a word in with his Mother, I hear she's a huge fan.

This isn't supposed to be some deep post. I'm very much like my grandfather, I don't get things out talking to everyone. These are just some words I wanted to get out. I know his death has no impact on the outcome of the game. I'm just grasping for something while I'm at a low point. So I'll be cheering hard tomorrow, in Irish gear and on a recliner, while my family gazes at me from the kitchen, saying goodbye in my own way.

To you and the man that formed you, This is the way dreams of men are formed and I found myself thinking of my hard nosed grandfather in similar light as you speak. I'll drink one for you and him tomorrow and smile because of the story you have. GO IRISH! Cherish the love.

 

[GoIrish41]

So, long post incoming, but it's been a rough day. But I'm hoping it is a good reason we'll win tomorrow.

So I got a call that I've been dreading since July. My grandfather, the man who raised me as his own, had passed out according to my grandmother, and the ambulance was on the way to their home. He's had lung and heart problems for damn near twenty years now, and he's pushing 80.

He was diagnosed with cancer this year, a disease which has killed the majority of his ten brothers and sisters much younger than he. He has outlived every one of them so far, but after an episode in July where he went black and was brought back with a breathing apparatus, he's been frail. This was not something he wanted, he wanted to go quickly, and not suffer a life where he can't walk unassisted or do the things he loved doing.

He just wanted to go, and so today, when I got to my grandmother's and saw the paramedics, I knew he wouldn't be suffering any longer. He had a DNR order, and just looking at the scene when I arrived I knew what was transpiring. Still, you hold out some selfish hope on the way to the hospital, that the man who has been your father you never had as you are the son he never had, that he'd pull through it. He'd beaten strokes, open heart surgery, lung surgeries, knee replacements. He had always come out of it, to our grateful surprise. I was still hoping, selfishly, denying what I saw with my own eyes. We were ushered into the dreaded isolation room where we knew what was happening, but we couldn't accept it until the doc came in and broke the news. He said, "You all know what was happening." We all nodded and listened until he got to the news, our patriarch had passed.

I've had a rough day, he was my father I never had, as I was the son he never had. We loved football and beer, family and children. I am constantly referred to as mini-Chuck in the family, because I physically look so much like him. And I've imitated him for as long as I can remember. I gave him the Chuck nickname when I was a smart-ass 13 year old. No one would get away with saying that to him, except me I was constantly told. We had a bond that I can't even describe, and it started with Notre Dame football.

Our household in PA was majorly female. My uncles were not around as much as my mother and four aunts when I was growing up. The way it went, I learned after a few years, was that the women would sit in the kitchen and watch Penn St. while my grandfather would retire to the living room and relax in his recliner to watch the Irish. Most of my memories of early childhood revolve around my grandmother's house on weekends, and the football games I watched. I stayed with the women as any little man would, so I cheered for Penn St. That was, until I was a little older, and I realized that I was a man damn it, and I belonged in the other room with the man of the house, watching the Irish on Saturday. And that is how my foolish youthful self woke from a female induced Penn St. fandom into my Irish home. I was no more than ten when I made that realization, and it led to some of the best memories of my life.

I could recite a million memories of watching the Irish on Saturday in that living room, reveling in being a man with the idol of my life. He taught me how to throw and catch, so I went out for football to make him proud. It turned out I was good enough for him to go and brag about me at the bar, to the other members of the Minooka Notre Dame Club. I made him proud my grandmother told me, and it made me happy to know he thought of me so highly. He'd always go to South Bend once a year, and he'd always bring me back a football or a hat with a wool ball on the top that said Irish. I still have those hats, and I have his Notre Dame Club jacket too. I would never stop hounding him to let me come to South Bend one time. They drank a lot, see, on the ten hour bus ride to South Bend. I didn't understand when I was younger, but I do now, it just wasn't a place for a barely teen boy.

I never relented and begged him every year. "When you're sixteen" he said, thinking I'd grow out of it. So when I was sixteen I asked again and was refused. So my grandmother stepped in and laid her foot down. When I turned 18, he would take me to South Bend, or face her wrath. He agreed and we still watched the Irish every Saturday in that living room.

It finally happened, I got to go to South Bend as an 18 year old with the Minooka Notre Dame Club. What happens on the trip stays on the trip, but I got obnoxiously drunk on the ride out there, and we woke up at six to get to the stadium to tailgate. We parked the bus a few hundred meters from the stadium. I got to serve booze to passers-by for donations, a job I relished, because it allowed me to talk football with some knowledgeable folks along with my grandfather and revel in my experience. I was serving booze to in the shadow of the stadium! Getting drunk and prepping for my long awaited day.

It turns out they had a lot of friends out there. There were people who would pop by and remember them from years past, and I heard some wild stories.

When I was good and liquored up, we headed for the Trumpets under the Dome, the bookstore, and everything else we could experience before kickoff. I got to see it all, and I even got overpriced apparel from the bookstore, all on Chuck's dime, a man who worked construction his whole life and never went to high school. He did not have a lot of money, but he freely spent what he had to make my experience memorable.

After eating some steak sandwiches, we went ahead and got some tickets from a scalper. It was my drunken job to find this man until my grandfather realized I was in no state and did the work for me. We entered the stadium to watch the Irish take on the Trojans.

The game was a blowout. USC destroyed Ty's Irish but the whole experience was still one of the most memorable of my life. I got to scream at the kickoffs, cheer for the Irish, and share it in the flesh with a man I'd been watching football with for years.

After the game he apologized that we got blown out, and the ND club went on to the Kitty Kat for some gentleman's fun, after some dinner. Being hammered in a strip club with my grandfather was great. (I don't care if any of you think it's inappropriate.) I had a great time as an 18 year old with men in their 50s and 60s at a titty bar. It was fucking hysterical and I still remember the lap dance I got with my grandfather's money.

We left South Bend the next day for the long ten hour ride home. I had a great time and I'll cherish the memories forever. I wanted to take him out to another game when I was old enough, as we never got a chance to get there again. We went to some east coast games, seeing the Irish beat Navy and some others. But we never got back out to South Bend like I wanted. His failing health and my own divorce and finances complicated the chance. In the end even if I could afford it all, he couldn't make the trip.

So as we watched the Irish this season I took in the experience. I remember him yelling at the TV, giving me points about the defensive scheme. No matter how old I got we would still break down the team together. It wasn't perfect, but nothing ever is. It's one thing I've learned in my thirty years on this earth. But it was ours, God damn it, and I'll cherish those memories for the rest of my life.

Today has been hard on my whole family. We spent the night at my grandmother's and I just got home. I couldn't stop thinking about the game tomorrow, and how I need to put on his jacket and sit in his recliner, watching the Irish take on GT. I have been a bit of a pessimist lately, but I think if Chuck can do anything, he'll want the Irish to win. I know Jesus doesn't care about the score, but if he can do it, Chuck will try to get a word in with his Mother, I hear she's a huge fan.

This isn't supposed to be some deep post. I'm very much like my grandfather, I don't get things out talking to everyone. These are just some words I wanted to get out. I know his death has no impact on the outcome of the game. I'm just grasping for something while I'm at a low point. So I'll be cheering hard tomorrow, in Irish gear and on a recliner, while my family gazes at me from the kitchen, saying goodbye in my own way.

Sorry for your loss. That was a beautiful tribute to your grandfather. Go Irish!

 

[irishnd31]

God bless you, your pops, and your entire family griff.

 

[gkautz10]

Yellow seat tickets for tomorrow. Thanks work! Hope it doesn't turn out like the last time I had them..... Northwestern.

 

[calvegas04]

I'm going to the Cubs/Cardinals game tomorrow so I'll miss most of the game. I'll be keeping track via my phone, but I don't like our odds
Let's hope I'm wrong... GO IRISH.......and GO CUBS GO!!

there are 3 million baseball games a year and you pick a notre dame game day to go to one?

 

[woolybug25]

there are 3 million baseball games a year and you pick a notre dame game day to go to one?

He's a Cubs fan... Whattya expect...

 

[stlnd01]

This game won't be won by the offense, it'll be won by the defense if we're going to be successful.

Both. Like RDU said, we can chew clock too. Then when they sell out to stop the run, we've got the athletes and the arm to beat them deep. I agree we don't win a high-scoring game, but we should put up some points. And we won't need to put up 40 because we're about the most athletic defense they play, and one of the few with legit experience against their system. We can win this game. Just need to play up to it.
That's what I tell myself anyway.

 

[TheRealLynch51]

Guys, I have a special guest poster for this next post. I will let him say what he needs to say without any further introduction:

"Finally, the Rock HAS COME BACK to South Bend!!! Let me tell you this about Georgia Tech. The Rock says that Georgia Tech has faced nobody but candy ass, roody poo jabronies. The Rock says that Notre Dame will take Georgia Tech's option offense, turn that son-bitch sideways, and shove it STRAIGHT UP THEIR CANDY ASSES!!!! The Rock says this: the Irish will run the ball all over Georgia Tech and come out with a win that will make Georgia Tech want to go back and sign Rudy to a full ride scholarship....IF YOU SMELL (dum, dum, dum) WHAT THE IRISH (dum, dum) ARE COOKING!

 

[IrishInFl]

Guys, I have a special guest poster for this next post. I will let him say what he needs to say without any further introduction:

"Finally, the Rock HAS COME BACK to South Bend!!! Let me tell you this about Georgia Tech. The Rock says that Georgia Tech has faced nobody but candy ass, roody poo jabronies. The Rock says that Notre Dame will take Georgia Tech's option offense, turn that son-bitch sideways, and shove it STRAIGHT UP THEIR CANDY ASSES!!!! The Rock says this: the Irish will run the ball all over Georgia Tech and come out with a win that will make Georgia Tech want to go back and sign Rudy to a full ride scholarship....IF YOU SMELL (dum, dum, dum) WHAT THE IRISH (dum, dum) ARE COOKING!

Except GT may be like John Cena: Less talented than others, but ALWAYS kicks out at two and wins.

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Am4oKAmc2To" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

 

[TheRealLynch51]

Except GT may be like John Cena: Less talented than others, but ALWAYS kicks out at two and wins.

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The Rock says this: John Cena may be Vinces' butt boy, but he does lose matches every once in a while. And when he does, Vince gets him his win back. But the Rock says this: we only have one match this year that counts. Give Georgia Tech the win next year, but this year....it's all irish. IF YOU SMELLL, WHAT THE ROCK, IS.... COOKIN!

 

[NDfan12]

I don't know if it's because I'm watching Rudy or maybe the beer but I'm feeling good about the Irish today. This offense still has weapons and the defense can be stout. Going to come down to coaching/adjustments and probably special teams play. I can see the Irish winning 31-27. Should be a solid game of football either way.

 

[IrishFanJMercy]

Fuller will have over 200 yards receiving today. If you go back and watch Kizer throw in the Virginia game every throw minus 2 went at fuller.

 

[ThePiombino]

Fuller will have over 200 yards receiving today. If you go back and watch Kizer throw in the Virginia game every throw minus 2 went at fuller.

Can't imagine GT allowing that to happen. Odds are Prosise rushes for 200 before Fuller gets 200 in the air IMO

 

[stlnd01]

Fuller will have over 200 yards receiving today. If you go back and watch Kizer throw in the Virginia game every throw minus 2 went at fuller.

That seems like a natural response in those circumstances last week. Lock in on your best receiver. If it happens again today we're in trouble.

 

[Cackalacky]

Fuller will have over 200 yards receiving today. If you go back and watch Kizer throw in the Virginia game every throw minus 2 went at fuller.

IMO the coaches said they tried to give DK throws he was comfortable with. Plus lIRC Fuller wanted the ball to win the game. I think that is why we only saw passes to fuller.

I hope we see a much more diverse display today.