The Irish.....
Posted: Tue Sep 20, 2005 4:53 pmCollege Football
Why to Root for the Irish
Our Chicago bureau chief -- and Notre Dame alumnus -- wants you on his team
By BRYAN GRULEY
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
September 17, 2005; Page P8
SOUTH BEND, Ind. -- With its alumnus coach on the sideline and a beguiling new team on the field, Notre Dame has shocked college football by pasting Pitt and upsetting Michigan in Ann Arbor. As the Fighting Irish prepare for Michigan State in their home opener here today, the faithful wonder anew: Is Notre Dame ready to wake up the echoes? Will the ghost of George Gipp rise up to guide the Irish back to a New Year's bowl game? Can ND reclaim its place as the gold-domed symbol of all that's precious about college football?
Should anyone give a rip?
Even boosters like me, a 1979 graduate of Notre Dame, understand that it's fair to ask whether ND matters anymore. It has been 11 seasons since the Irish won a bowl game, 16 since they won a national title. They've endured humdrum seasons and unbearable blowouts by archrivals Southern Cal, Purdue and Michigan. So desperate is ND for a return to glory that last year it fired Tyrone Willingham as coach after only three years of his five-year deal -- the first time it jettisoned a skipper before his original contract was up.
The nation's legions of Irish haters gleefully howled that ND had tarnished its dome. Even some devotees despaired. "Notre Dame stood for something in terms of the honor and integrity of the program it fielded," says Steve Quehl, who played on ND's 1973 national champ team. "They seem to have gotten caught up in the rest of the world, that winning is the only thing that matters. The firing sullied the standard by which Notre Dame had come to measure itself, and by extension how others measure Notre Dame."
I, too, cringed at how my school handled the Willingham firing. It had to happen, though, and now it's vital -- to Notre Dame and quite possibly all of college football -- that new coach Charlie Weis, ND '78, follow through on his vow to "win as fast as we can."
Boy, I'll bet that sounds cheeky coming from a guy like me, whose dogs hide when he's watching ND on television. Maybe you'll be more forgiving if I tell you I don't now and never plan to own a pair of those hideous green-plaid slacks some alums don for games. Then again, I'm the author of an alternate version of the Michigan fight song that can't be printed here. (No, Ohio State fans, I won't email it to you.)
College football has changed a lot since I wrote that crude ditty my senior year. Now everybody seems to be on national TV, and just about everyone seems to go to a bowl game. Teams like Boise State and Northern Illinois are stealing top recruits from the Oklahomas, Georgias and Notre Dames. That's fine. Some people think college football is merely a thinly disguised minor league for the NFL. That's not fine.
Some things haven't changed, at least in South Bend. Today, there's only one school -- my alma mater -- that each year plays a genuinely national (and utterly masochistic) schedule, and repeatedly polls as America's favorite college team, and continues to aspire to high academic standards while chasing a national title. There are no names on jerseys, no "football dorms," no corporate boxes. Only at ND could the firing of a coach -- as routine as an extra-point kick in many places -- cause the indignant hoo-hah prompted by Mr. Willingham's demise.
Without a doubt, my school fumbled. From the outside, it looked as if ND caved to influential alumni. Letting the world know it was talking to Utah's Urban Meyer as he was talking to Florida -- where he then signed -- was dumber than taking a too-many-men-on-the-field penalty after a timeout. But Mr. Willingham, who once took such a penalty in a 37-0 loss to Florida State, had to go. Yes, he started 8-0, prompting smitten fans (oh, no, not me) to start planning a trip to the national championship game. After that, he went 13-15. And lost three times by 31 points to Southern Cal.
Today, a school can't aim for a top-10 ranking, keep its graduation rates high and hang on to a mediocre coach. Something had to give. Some people, including ND alum and Heisman Trophy winner Paul Hornung, have suggested Notre Dame must lower its academic standards to attract blue-chip recruits. Would that have been better than firing a coach? Or should ND simply accept, as one prominent sportswriter suggested, that it will never again be a national power?
Accepting mediocrity wouldn't be good for Notre Dame or college football. Even ND haters admit it's more fun to root against the Irish when they're good. More to the point, you don't get credit for doing things the right way unless you're winning. There are other schools -- Stanford's an example -- that achieve both on the field and in the classroom. But they can't claim 11 national titles and seven Heisman winners. They don't have "Touchdown Jesus" -- a library mural peering down on the football field -- or "Win one for the Gipper," or a movie about a walk-on named Rudy that made millions misty-eyed. Indeed, the same writer who suggested that ND tolerate losing also called it "the biggest stage in college football."
Now the lead player on the stage is Coach Weis, with his throwback brush cut, big-belly swagger and four fat Super Bowl rings earned as an assistant coach for the New England Patriots and New York Giants. The Irish are back in the top 20 in the major polls, and fans are plotting those bowl trips again. Everyone at ND seems to have forgotten Mr. Willingham, who has moved on to coach the University of Washington's Huskies.
I hope Mr. Weis won't forget, though. The sacking of Tyrone Willingham was a necessary compromise -- but a compromise nonetheless. If the wins stop coming and other concessions tempt, Notre Dame may have to finally accept that its brand of football won't work anymore. That would be a sad day, and not just for those of us who'll be yelling ourselves hoarse in South Bend this season.
Why to Root for the Irish
Our Chicago bureau chief -- and Notre Dame alumnus -- wants you on his team
By BRYAN GRULEY
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
September 17, 2005; Page P8
SOUTH BEND, Ind. -- With its alumnus coach on the sideline and a beguiling new team on the field, Notre Dame has shocked college football by pasting Pitt and upsetting Michigan in Ann Arbor. As the Fighting Irish prepare for Michigan State in their home opener here today, the faithful wonder anew: Is Notre Dame ready to wake up the echoes? Will the ghost of George Gipp rise up to guide the Irish back to a New Year's bowl game? Can ND reclaim its place as the gold-domed symbol of all that's precious about college football?
Should anyone give a rip?
Even boosters like me, a 1979 graduate of Notre Dame, understand that it's fair to ask whether ND matters anymore. It has been 11 seasons since the Irish won a bowl game, 16 since they won a national title. They've endured humdrum seasons and unbearable blowouts by archrivals Southern Cal, Purdue and Michigan. So desperate is ND for a return to glory that last year it fired Tyrone Willingham as coach after only three years of his five-year deal -- the first time it jettisoned a skipper before his original contract was up.
The nation's legions of Irish haters gleefully howled that ND had tarnished its dome. Even some devotees despaired. "Notre Dame stood for something in terms of the honor and integrity of the program it fielded," says Steve Quehl, who played on ND's 1973 national champ team. "They seem to have gotten caught up in the rest of the world, that winning is the only thing that matters. The firing sullied the standard by which Notre Dame had come to measure itself, and by extension how others measure Notre Dame."
I, too, cringed at how my school handled the Willingham firing. It had to happen, though, and now it's vital -- to Notre Dame and quite possibly all of college football -- that new coach Charlie Weis, ND '78, follow through on his vow to "win as fast as we can."
Boy, I'll bet that sounds cheeky coming from a guy like me, whose dogs hide when he's watching ND on television. Maybe you'll be more forgiving if I tell you I don't now and never plan to own a pair of those hideous green-plaid slacks some alums don for games. Then again, I'm the author of an alternate version of the Michigan fight song that can't be printed here. (No, Ohio State fans, I won't email it to you.)
College football has changed a lot since I wrote that crude ditty my senior year. Now everybody seems to be on national TV, and just about everyone seems to go to a bowl game. Teams like Boise State and Northern Illinois are stealing top recruits from the Oklahomas, Georgias and Notre Dames. That's fine. Some people think college football is merely a thinly disguised minor league for the NFL. That's not fine.
Some things haven't changed, at least in South Bend. Today, there's only one school -- my alma mater -- that each year plays a genuinely national (and utterly masochistic) schedule, and repeatedly polls as America's favorite college team, and continues to aspire to high academic standards while chasing a national title. There are no names on jerseys, no "football dorms," no corporate boxes. Only at ND could the firing of a coach -- as routine as an extra-point kick in many places -- cause the indignant hoo-hah prompted by Mr. Willingham's demise.
Without a doubt, my school fumbled. From the outside, it looked as if ND caved to influential alumni. Letting the world know it was talking to Utah's Urban Meyer as he was talking to Florida -- where he then signed -- was dumber than taking a too-many-men-on-the-field penalty after a timeout. But Mr. Willingham, who once took such a penalty in a 37-0 loss to Florida State, had to go. Yes, he started 8-0, prompting smitten fans (oh, no, not me) to start planning a trip to the national championship game. After that, he went 13-15. And lost three times by 31 points to Southern Cal.
Today, a school can't aim for a top-10 ranking, keep its graduation rates high and hang on to a mediocre coach. Something had to give. Some people, including ND alum and Heisman Trophy winner Paul Hornung, have suggested Notre Dame must lower its academic standards to attract blue-chip recruits. Would that have been better than firing a coach? Or should ND simply accept, as one prominent sportswriter suggested, that it will never again be a national power?
Accepting mediocrity wouldn't be good for Notre Dame or college football. Even ND haters admit it's more fun to root against the Irish when they're good. More to the point, you don't get credit for doing things the right way unless you're winning. There are other schools -- Stanford's an example -- that achieve both on the field and in the classroom. But they can't claim 11 national titles and seven Heisman winners. They don't have "Touchdown Jesus" -- a library mural peering down on the football field -- or "Win one for the Gipper," or a movie about a walk-on named Rudy that made millions misty-eyed. Indeed, the same writer who suggested that ND tolerate losing also called it "the biggest stage in college football."
Now the lead player on the stage is Coach Weis, with his throwback brush cut, big-belly swagger and four fat Super Bowl rings earned as an assistant coach for the New England Patriots and New York Giants. The Irish are back in the top 20 in the major polls, and fans are plotting those bowl trips again. Everyone at ND seems to have forgotten Mr. Willingham, who has moved on to coach the University of Washington's Huskies.
I hope Mr. Weis won't forget, though. The sacking of Tyrone Willingham was a necessary compromise -- but a compromise nonetheless. If the wins stop coming and other concessions tempt, Notre Dame may have to finally accept that its brand of football won't work anymore. That would be a sad day, and not just for those of us who'll be yelling ourselves hoarse in South Bend this season.