The Irish Experience, pt. 2

My Gameday began in a line of cars heading to the White Field on the north side of campus. After we parked a bit of tailgating was the next item of business -my gracious host Ric mixed a restorative while I cracked open a beer. We were well outfitted for the game having picked up lunch on the way and Ric had thoughtfully brought a supply of pretzels. The weather was brisk, and the extra layer my wife had insisted I take along was much appreciated. Bits of sun teased us through the cloud cover as we finished our luncheon in the rapidly filling parking meadow. Law enforcement officials patrolled for underage drinkers as we finished our second perfectly legal cocktail. It was now time to head for the stadium.

Sidebar observation #1: When you go to a game at the Notre Dame Stadium, you are very much On Campus. This is especially apparent when approaching from the north, where the White Field-to-Stadium trek can charitably be described as lengthy. You are in Notre Dame Indiana in every sense of the word, with little to no intrusion from the surrounding city of South Bend. The journey to UW's Camp Randall (College Football Town Hall of Fame Charter Member) and Indiana University's Memorial Stadium (Good access from parking lot) is a very different experience.

The trek to the Stadium was bracing but pleasant - the ND campus is beautiful by anyone's definition. Notre Dame parlays tradition by the boatload (and not undeservedly) and fans of both persuasions carried a noticeable sense of pilgrimage. Ours took us to the Edmund P. Joyce Athletic and Convocation Center, officially known as the Joyce Center but commonly referred to as the ACC. Beer was to be found within, and we partook of a pint in the officially designated area. It was here we parked ourselves at a table and chatted with some other attendees. One couple were longtime South Bend residents who followed ND football for years. Another gentleman was in town on a business trip and brought his son along so he could see Notre Dame.

After we finished our beer, there was still plenty of time before kickoff so we made a circuit around the stadium. The gates are named for legendary Irish coaches - Leahy, Holtz, etc... I asked Ric where the Gerry Foust gate was. He was pretty sure they hadn't gotten around to him yet. We entered through the Rockne gate and made our way up to row 54.

Notre Dame Stadium was built in 1930 and renovated in the mid-1990s. During the renovation the original stadium was encircled in new construction, adding twenty thousand seats, a new press box and a host of other updates. The game program ($10) touted the renovated Stadium "now qualifies as one of the most up-to-date" in the nation. The game program is full of crap. Seating pitch and width in the original section is still state-of-the-art Hoover administration. You're quite intimate with your neighbors at an Irish game, and just as familiar with kneecaps from the row behind. Gentlemen's washroom (at least the one I visited) is by trough.

It was alumni marching band day and the sidelines were bursting with over 1,000 musical personnel. As a band veteran myself, I paid particular attention to the band's activities. The halftime performance and in-game music were well done.

Sidebar Observation #2: While watching the occasional Irish game on TV, I kept hearing the marching band performing a bit of music to pump up the crowd. I asked an ND band alum what it was, and she responded that it was a Celtic-ish fanfare and asked if I was familiar with the accompanying student-section choreography. When I replied in the negative, she prefaced her demonstration with, "It's pretty lame" and did this. Now, I am the absolute last person who should arbitrate a cool/lame debate, but I must say I find this more appealing.

The actual football game saw a crisp Stanford team take apart an overwhelmed Irish squad. The late John Robinson's quote summed up the game perfectly: "Well, we didn't block real good, but we made up for it by not tackling." Other miscues involved passes thrown to the other team or open tracts of grass, and receivers not looking the football. It was not a good performance by the Irish this day.

During the break between the 3rd and 4th quarters the obligatory drive-safe announcement came over the PA as a hush fell over the crowd. The fans' silence had me scanning the field for an Ara Parseghian-level VIP, but I soon realized the reverence was for the actual announcement. Ric informed me that the announcement has been done by the same state trooper for many years and that he performs an original message live for each game. It was met with a rousing ovation.

We bailed with about three minutes left in the game and were joined by many subdued fans for the walk back to the car. We located the automobile after a brief search (try and find a specific silver-gray sedan in a field of roughly a thousand cars with only an access road, a row of porta-johns and two trees as landmarks. It ain't easy.) We listened to the post-game report with Mirko Jurkovic on the way home.

I had a great time. Thanks, Ric!