CATHOLICS VS. CONTENDERS
HOLY SHIRT! MIAMI VS. NOTRE DAME IS HUGE AGAIN: MIKE VACCARO
MIAMI GARDENS, Fla. — This was late on the afternoon of Oct. 29, 2016, in the growing chill of an early Indiana night. Thousands of revelers were making their way from Notre Dame Stadium, trekking toward distant parking lots or waiting Uber drivers. Most were enjoying a giddy dose of temporary amnesia.
“Let’s go Irish!” a few roared.
Notre Dame and Miami had engaged in a fun little football game in front of a polite full house, the Fighting Irish winning 30-27 on a late field goal, and there had been a time when that score wouldn’t have just led SportsCenter, but also NBC Nightly News and World News Tonight. But that was a long, long time ago.
The Irish had stormed to a 20-0 lead, then watched the Hurricanes score 27 unanswered, then finished with a touchdown and a 23-yard field goal from Justin Yoon to win, 30-27.
The crowd now cruising toward the periphery of campus could chant all they wanted, but this wasn’t a vintage Notre Dame team of Lou Holtz and Tony Rice; the win made them 3-5. They finished 4-8.
As relevant: this wasn’t the Miami of Jimmy Johnson and Cleveland Gary and Steve Walsh, the vintage U, which would pillage your campus by day and talk about it all night. This was the Hurricanes’ fourth straight loss. They finished strong, 9-4, most of it done anonymously. Much as this Miami-Notre Dame game had felt anonymous, something that, once upon a time would have been unheard of, impossible to believe. The revelers kept chanting until one of them emerged sad, hoarse and looking like he had just stepped out of Doc Brown’s battered time machine.
He was wearing a ratty old T-shirt that was still instantly familiar, despite the faded colors and the holes where cotton once stood. You could see light green where dark green once ruled: “CATHOLICS.” And you could clearly see bleached orange lettering that once stood in stark contrast: “CONVICTS.”
The shirt didn’t fit him anymore.
He was about 10 Corona Lights past caring.
“ONE OF THESE DAYS!!!!” he screamed, at no one and at everyone, “ONE OF THESE DAYS!!!!”
He didn’t finish his thought. He didn’t have to. It would have been preposterous, 54 weeks ago, to think the drunken warbling of some Class of ’82 philosopher would have any kind of immediate relevance. Notre Dame was a mess, coach Brian Kelly allowed to keep his job only by, essentially, agreeing to endure the same personality car wash the Giants forced Tom Coughlin to undergo in 2007.
Miami? Once a program so fabled that its extended entourage included rap singers and movie stars, its alumni list seeming to popu- late half the NFL, big enough it needed not one but “30-for-30” shows to properly document its life and times, Miami had rapidly become a JAT — Just Another Team, 13 years (and counting) without a trip to a major bowl. And yet. And yet. And yet
And yet here we are, 54 weeks later, and Saturday night at Hard Rock Stadium we will see a glorious slice of college football’s history spring to life as an essential part of its present. Notre Dame is 7-1, safely ensconced, at No. 3, within the college football playoff rankings. Its only loss, by a single point, was to No. 1 Georgia, which has ransacked everyone else on its schedule. And the Hurricanes sit at No. 7, their record a perfect 8-0, meaning they have won 13 straight since falling in South Bend 54 weeks ago. Last week, they were home underdogs to Virginia Tech, and they responded by putting an old-school U 28-10 beatdown on the Hokies.
Suddenly, these teams have reemerged from anonymity into prime time, to the biggest game of the week, one of the biggest of the year, the same as it used to be.
“I know our guys are excited about this championship drive that they are on now,” Kelly said earlier this week. “This part of the season, obviously in November, all of the teams that are in contention are focused on one game at a time, and it’s single elimination for most teams.”
It is for these two. Undoubtedly there will be some who bring their old shirts to the game Saturday, but even that angry old slogan won’t be able to match the stakes at hand right now. You win, you get another week to dream the biggest dream of all. Fifty-four weeks ago, that wasn’t dreaming. That was hallucination.
One of these days. And here it is.