By “Disgruntled”
It’s the early morning of September 8th, around 1:30am, and as I’m guessing many of the blog’s followers are probably celebrating – the once prestigious football program of Notre Dame has fallen to underdog darling Northern Illinois, 16-14. The Huskies. How apropos for this specific case study.
For context, a few quick things about me: I am a lifelong fan of UConn Huskies basketball and Fighting Irish football. I grew up in Mansfield Center, CT – so close I could run up to campus and pry open the faulty door they didn’t fix until after I graduated there and run down to Alumni Court to start shooting baskets on the same floor that Richard Hamilton, Sue Bird, and Kemba Walker once did. All champions, I might add. My affinity for Notre Dame comes from my mother’s Irish-Catholic family, especially my Uncle. Many a game day he could have been found in his vintage Leprechaun logo-adorned, cigarette-scented Notre Dame-cushioned chair he’s owned since the 1970s, grumbling at the television and lamenting how it is not like the days of Tony Rice and “Rocket” Ismael anymore, sipping from a pint glass filled with far too little ice and far too much Jameson (I’ve used the past tense here because he has – for now – quit drinking). He follows UConn basketball but does not have near as much passion for it as I. A poor soul. At least for myself, in the throws of despair and disappointment watching special teams line up for an improbable 62-yard field goal that I could have told you would be blocked before the ball was snapped, I can find solace in the fact that basketball season is only a month away.
In a sense, that is kind of this whole case study in a nutshell. From the perspective of a Huskies basketball fan who also loves Notre Dame, the college football season for me is usually a mediocre build-up to the time of year when I can watch an actual championship program play competitive and inspired sport. I was born in 1990 – only just too late to witness the last time Notre Dame won it all, and just in time to witness the rise of far-and-away the greatest college basketball program in the modern era. I am authoring this case study tonight because I think the experience of a Notre Dame football fan specifically from Connecticut might contain something of value for the Irish faithful to take away from. Maybe I’m wrong. I’m still slightly inebriated, and only the leftover spearmint Zyn I found wedged in the corner of my couch are keeping me going right now. It’s been a rough night.
Let’s get right to it, without pulling any punches. For any fellow Notre Dame fans reading this, I have some bad news: we are nowhere close to sniffing a national championship any time soon. Connecticut Basketball fandom has taught me above all that the most important ingredients in building a championship program are standards, accountability, and identity. Let’s explore each one and engage in a little compare and contrast.
When Dan Hurley took over the UConn Men’s Basketball program, it was in the worst state it had seen since the pre-Jim Calhoun era. Guys were transferring out left and right. Recruiting was in shambles. Ticket sales were way down. There were no longer any effective systems in place to develop players, especially big men. It felt like we never beat Tulsa, even at home. Hurley himself even questioned his decision to leave Rhode Island, until he popped over to Coach Calhoun’s on-campus office for a brief meeting. The legend himself gave Hurley a succinct but powerful piece of his mind. “This is UConn son – get your head out of your ass.” Standards.
Let’s compare this to Notre Dame. Our standards seem so distant now – Knute Rockney and the four horsemen. Rudy giving it his all, nothing but blood and sweat and grit to get just a minute of playing time for an elite program under Ara Parseghian and, later, Dan Devine. Lou Holtz, in his iconic flat brimmed hat and spectacles, reeling off inspiring pep talk after pep talk, waking up the echoes again. Let’s face it: we haven’t had standards since. Maybe we got close a few times. The Brady Quinn era – I guess that ended in some bad luck. The Brian Kelly era – that fake Louisiana accent revealed it must have all been a big facade in the end. The idea that there is nothing like the Notre Dame family? I’d hardly consider berating your own team with boos and chants of “you suck” as they trotted off their home field tonight a family atmosphere. Many argue that Notre Dame’s only true standard left – their elite academic standard – holds them back. I would argue that it is really the only worthwhile standard Notre Dame has been able to maintain. I have seen plenty of top level Notre Dame student-athletes excel both academically and on the football field, from Tom Zbikowski and Jaylon Smith, to Jerry Tillery and Xavier Watts, to Jeff Samardzija to Kyren Williams. Talent alone does not win championships without standards, at least at the Division One level. Just ask Thomas Hammock. Standards beat talent tonight.
Perhaps an even more glaring problem with the state of Notre Dame football is a lack of highly consistent accountability. Make no mistake – competing with the Georgia’s and Alabama’s of the world is no small task. I don’t want to say that there is no accountability in the Notre Dame locker room. I’m only a fan, and I don’t want to diminish the effort and sacrifice that the players and coaching staff put in day in and day out. There is accountability – perhaps even a lot of accountability. The problem is, championship programs like UConn basketball under coaches like Hurley and Auriemma are obsessed with having absolute accountability. From the bottom up, every single person in the organization is held to a level of accountability based on one core idea: anything short of championship-winning, absolute maximum effort basketball is not excusable. After UConn’s 2022 first round loss to New Mexico State, Dan Hurley immediately went back to the drawing board. He completely restructured his entire offensive philosophy. He hit the transfer portal for guys like Joey Calcaterra and Cam Spencer, who could maintain the UConn standard of toughness and effort while also improving the team’s scoring output. He had assistant coach Luke Murray pulling all-nighters researching obscure sets the in the Division 2 Macedonian Euro-League to incorporate into the offense. He realized that what he was doing wasn’t good enough, and he addressed it. Pull up any Geno Auriemma press conference after a loss. He’ll gripe about turnovers, “stupid mistakes”. He’ll call out what specific players did incorrectly in specific moments. He’ll complain about being out-hustled and not running certain actions the way they should have been run. And then he’ll call out himself. His own mistakes. Everyone owns it, as a team. And it’s not acceptable. It can’t be, when the frame of mind is to win a championship. Accountability.
Let’s compare that to Notre Dame’s recent stretch. A loss 2 years ago to unranked Marshall. Not many changes. A transfer portal acquisition gone awry in Riley Leonard, who did not impress against Texas A&M despite coming away with a win, and who threw 2 awful picks tonight. 7 points against Northern Illinois in the entire first half. Yet, as a lifelong Notre Dame fan, it came as no surprise that we kept marching him out there for the second half. It came as no surprise that, after solidifying that he clearly was not the man for the job, he’s the one Freeman chose to quarterback our one last desperation drive. It came as no surprise because I have already understood for a long time now that Notre Dame does not hold themselves to a championship-level of accountability. Perhaps the most egregious was the response after last year’s loss to Ohio State. A general whitewashing of Al Golden’s complete and utter failure to manage the defense in a 2-minute drill. 10 men on the field 2 plays in a row, blitzing up front and everyone in the secondary backed up beyond the goal line with the ball on about the 25-yard-line in a situation when all we needed to do was contain Ohio State’s offense and focus on preventing a touchdown at all costs on the last couple of plays. Instead of accountability, there was nothing but excuses – football at this level is hard, there are a lot of moving parts and organizing all of this is more difficult than you would think, there were early season logistical kinks we needed to work out, Ohio State’s offense ended up executing very well, etc., etc. My point isn’t that I want Freeman or Golden fired – my point is that until they are able to hold the team and themselves to a championship-level style of accountability, they will not be able to develop a championship-level program.
Ultimately, all of this boils down to the last key factor of a championship program, which is identity. Division 1 competition is hard, and the fact is, you just can’t win it every year, and for some, never at all. I’m sure there were forgettable years in the Calhoun era – maybe 2001? 1993? I don’t know – I can’t remember. And I’m not such an ungrateful blowhard to not understand how insanely fortunate I have been to grow up down the road from Storrs, CT the past 34 years, cheering on teams that have won a combined 17 men’s and women’s national basketball championships. But what has always stood out to me about UConn basketball, even before the championships in 1995 for the women and 1999 for the men, is our identity. UConn plays tough, tenacious basketball. We always have a chip on our shoulder. We hustle. We fight, no matter what. A few years ago, for the first time in my life, we somehow lost that identity for a while. The difference was jarring. It was not the same UConn team on the men’s side. The arrival of Dan Hurley brought it all back. We’re Huskies – just the thought of that causes my heart to swell with pride for my hometown. Win or lose, any time we play hard-nosed, UConn basketball, I’m proud of my team. The UConn women may have lost in the Final Four this year too, but God, Nikha Muhl really left it all out on the floor against Iowa. Notre Dame’s identity, however, is something much more fragile.
The first game I attended to see Notre Dame play in-person was on a crisp fall day at Boston College. And I may hate Boston College athletics more than anything in sports besides Duke Basketball, but wow, do they have a beautiful football stadium. My mom and I shared the experience together: our first Notre Dame game. I had to text my uncle: At the stadium now. Feeling nervous – really hope the Irish can pull it out today.” He replied, “No need to be nervous. Just watch when those gold helmets come glimmering out of that tunnel.”
Exactly. This is Notre Dame football. It’s time we started getting our head out of our ass.
