Notre Dame’s Identity Crisis Is Leading To A Long Season For Irish Fans

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SOUTH BEND, Ind. – They visit him to celebrate. They visit him to remember. They visit him when they’re hopeful. They visit him when they’re searching for something. They visit him to have a drink. They visit him to smoke a cigar. They visit him in the spring and the winter. They’ve been visiting him for decades. And they’ll be visiting him for decades to come.

Knute Rockne’s grave is unassuming. Unless someone tells you where it is, you’d spend a whole day looking for it. There’s a memorial about 40 yards away that’s a bit more ornate, but the actual headstone in line with the rest of his family is simple. It reads: “Father Knute K. Rockne 1888 – 1931” with an illustration of a tilted cross. That’s it. But people seek it out. Every single day.

There are almost always fresh flowers to honor Rockne. Pennies – by tradition – are scattered over the stone. Sometimes folks will leave an unlit cigar. And there is almost always one or more shot glasses, empty or full, left to toast Notre Dame’s greatest coach.

Rockne had a reputation for innovation and for getting the best out of his players. There likely wouldn’t be the tradition of Notre Dame football that there is today without him. There also wouldn’t be the expectation of what Notre Dame football is supposed to be capable of.

On a Friday before an away game weekend, Rockne’s grave was silent.

If you feel like the Fighting Irish are in a bit of an identity crisis after starting 1-3 this season, you’re not the only one. Religion is in everything including football at Notre Dame. But for students and the residents of South Bend, football is its own religion.

It’s impossible to separate the Irish from any of the other traditions on campus. Take a tour of the grounds, and statues will be pointed out to you. Naturally, they have alternate names related to football. “In Celebration of Family” is nicknamed “The Holy Handoff.” A statue of Moses pointing upward gets the moniker of “First Down Moses.”

And of course there’s “Touchdown Jesus,” a gigantic mural that can be seen from the stadium and is just steps away from the location of the original spot where Notre Dame played its games until Rockne pushed to raise money for a new stadium that opened in 1930.

One of the most unique spots on campus, the Grotto, used to be home to mass for the football team on Saturdays. Players would tuck a small medallion of Mary into their sock and march over to the field. Even the helmets are made from the same gold leaf as the golden dome. It might seem excessive, but that’s Notre Dame.

The ongoing Campus Crossroads project is no exception. A $400 million renovation is slated to make the stadium the center of campus, both geographically and figuratively. It features the appropriate football centric improvements, from new box seats to a new video board, but it’ll also include a student center and a digital media center. In a move not without its own irony – and a perfect summation of how intrinsically tied to the university football is – classrooms for sacred music, anthropology, and psychology will also be housed around the stadium.

“With the academic standards at Notre Dame, it’s so hard to be a championship winning football team,” tour guide John W. says from the turf inside Notre Dame Stadium on Friday afternoon. “When Father Edward Sorin started the university, it was come one, come all. When Rockne was coaching, he took kids and molded them into men. When Lou Holtz was here, he would take a chance on guys. The tradition is there, but where does Notre Dame want to go from here?”

Who does Notre Dame want to be? Do they want to be Notre Dame the football team that’s tied to everything on campus, which means taking more chances on kids and pouring more money into the program to compete with Alabama and Ohio State? Or do they want to be Notre Dame the academic institution, with a football team that’ll get its share of top recruits, but will have years like this on occasion and have to deal with them?

The margin for error is smaller than other teams to begin with. So it’ll take good luck and some breaks to make a run at the National Championship. A little bad luck, and a tough year gets even tougher. That’s the bed Notre Dame made for itself by being independent in the first place. It added crisp hospital corners in said bed with its stringent academic standards. Which isn’t to say things can’t work out; but Golden Domers have to be realistic.

Losses to Texas and Michigan State, while disappointing, might have been understandable. A loss to Duke was cause for change. Brian Kelly put the blame on everyone, including himself and his players, following the game and removed defensive coordinator Brian VanGorder heading into a game against Syracuse at MetLife Stadium.

“It had to happen,” Matt Edmonds, a 1983 graduate says. “There’s no leadership. But I’ll never quit believing. I drink the Kool-Aid.”

Brian Kelly hosts his radio show every week from an Irish pub called O’Rourke’s a couple blocks off campus. The place is typically packed, as Notre Dame fans love football and love everything Irish. On this Thursday, it’s mostly silent.

“This has been a very weird start,” Chris Wilson, a 2008 graduate and author of the Rakes Report Newsletter says. “I think it’s fair to say this is the most lethargic people have felt about the program in a long time. But there’s no way that Brian Kelly gets fired. They’re reloading, and maybe fans didn’t realize how much talent the team was actually losing on defense. Or maybe it’s the back-to-back losses to end last season. But things aren’t as bad as they seem. They were really a handful of plays away from being undefeated this year.”

Kelly doesn’t seem phased, at least not publicly. The offense has been operating at a high level. There is still a ton of talent on defense, even if that talent suddenly forgot how to tackle. His biggest concern seems to be that the players are overcomplicating things, taking everything too seriously, and forgetting to have fun.

“That was such a polite clap,” Kelly jokes after he’s introduced on the show to quiet applause.

He runs through the typical coach’s show questions. Is it tough to play at noon instead of 3:30? (Not really.) What’s his favorite cereal? (He doesn’t eat cereal.) He also spends time discussing the move to replace VanGorder, and mentions that he’s in a nine-game job interview to turn it around.

The biggest change he wants to make is to let the coaches deal with coaching and put players in a better position to succeed. That starts with keeping them from thinking they have to be perfect.

“You can’t be perfect,” Kelly says. “We have to let these guys play. We were trying too hard as coaches to manipulate the game.”

It’s hard to make changes in season. Sometimes things are already set in motion, and it’ll take an offseason to repair it. But the Syracuse game will be a big test to see what the defense has to offer. Dino Babers brought his “basketball on grass” offense over from Bowling Green, and it’s not too kind to teams that don’t know how to tackle.


Five minutes before Notre Dame’s kickoff against Syracuse, there’s nobody in the Linebacker Lounge.

A famous spot to watch the Irish since it opened in 1962, the Backer is in a constant push and pull between being a bender (or townie) bar and a place for students. It’s where cornerback Devin Butler was arrested in August, and his second court appearance is set for later in October. Notre Dame memorabilia is everywhere, from Irish-themed vanity plates to framed jerseys.

“Nobody gives a shit about Notre Dame right now,” one bartender says.

“A lot of people probably don’t realize Notre Dame is even playing at noon today,” another bartender replies.

People start streaming in one by one, but there are plenty of open tables and bar seats throughout the game. Which means there’s a good angle for everyone in the Backer to see all the scoring. The Fighting Irish score on their first play, and ‘Cuse scores two minutes later. Notre Dame ends up leading, 23-13, at the end of the first quarter

“I betcha Kelly is nervous,” one older patron in a grey sweatshirt says. “That defense was too damn complicated. Just keep it simple. I bass fished for 30 years and I probably caught all my fish with the same six or seven lures. If I could do it again, that’s all I’d use.”

Eventually, the Irish actually start getting some stops. They win easily, 50-33, but the next test is a much better N.C. State team on the road in Raleigh. A win would bring Notre Dame back to .500, and a bowl game would still be in reach.

The team’s not going to be able to fix everything in a week, even if the players do start having fun.

Don, a 72-year-old former truck driver who has lived in South Bend for 46 years and is a daily regular at the Linebacker, says he’s never seen the beginning of a season like this.

“Brian Kelly’s on the hook and he knows it,” Don says. “You lose like that at Notre Dame, you might be gone.”

Soon after the game ends, Don and his two friends will be gone. They finish their beer before spending a couple minutes arguing about who is going to buy the next case. Don relents and passes his buddy a $10. They pat each other on the back.

They’ll be back at the Backer tomorrow – to toast to old Notre Dame.

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