Here Come the Irish (Part 2)

Editor's note:

Cap took his time.  Joggers and walkers passed him on his way around.  Past the boathouse, home of the ND rowing team, then the fire station, nearby, where Coach Frank Leahy once lived in bedroom #107 west during football season, and on around past Holy Cross House, Moreau Seminary, St. Joseph Hall and Columba Hall.

On the north side, Cap stood at the place shown in the movie “Rudy,” where Rudy comes out of the building, sits down on a cement bench and opens an envelope.  The camera swings around looking over Rudy's shoulder, showing the Golden Dome across the lake, in the distance, as he reads the letter informing him that he has finally been accepted to Notre Dame.  Rudy chokes back tears of joy and takes off down the trail.

Cap wandered around the lake, breathing in the afternoon, stopping several times to sit and do absolutely nothing.  Emerging from the trail as the sun began to drop, he paused at the Grotto, then striding up the hill, he heard the drums.  The drum corps was circled up in front of the Dome, rumbling and ringed by fans. 

Cap found a seat on the Main Building steps, and kicked back.
Checking his watch he jerked up, realizing it would soon be time for open practice of the Notre Dame Glee Club.  He entered the Crowley Hall of Music, named for Jim Crowley, one of the famous “Four Horsemen.”  The small rehearsal room was full and Cap claimed the last available seat, as practice began. 

The instructor welcomed the visitors and informed them that the Glee Club was preparing for a tour of concerts on the east coast beginning next week.  They started with a medley of college fight songs, then “Halls of Ivy,”  “Hike, Notre Dame,” “Irish Backs,” “Notre Dame We Hail Thee” and the Alma Mater, “Notre Dame Our Mother.”

Next, the instructor went around the room, asking each person to tell where they were from.  The man sitting next to Cap spoke with no reservation, "I’m from Arizona, and I love this place!”  Then the instructor,” I know you’re anxious to get to the pep rally, so we’re going to close with the best fight song in the nation, ‘The Notre Dame Victory March.”  They did and it was.

As Cap came down the Crowley steps, the band was lining up to step off to the pep rally. The band members were wearing “The Shirt,” a t-shirt produced and sold by the Student Association each football season, with a football theme.  In many years, a line from the Fight Song or Alma Mater was written on the shirt.  The 2005 shirt contains, on the front, “The Spirit Lives,” and on the back, a quote from Joe Theismann, “If you could bottle the Notre Dame spirit, you could light up the universe.”

As the band started, playing “Hike, Notre Dame,” Cap marched alongside them, with a convoy of fans.  Then he broke away and headed to the north end of the stadium, where he watched the Student Boosters paint the game helmets with a new coat of gold.

At the Joyce Center, a long line of Irish die-hards pressed forward, and soon the basketball arena was filled to capacity.

At Notre Dame the football pep rally is just that – a football pep rally – not an excuse for an administrator to get in front of a microphone to brag about how much money has been raised, other sports or anything else.  It is a genuine football pep rally, and it’s where the action is on Friday night before a home football game. 

With an undergraduate enrollment of 8,000, over 80% of which live on campus, Notre Dame has no fraternities or sororities.  They are deemed inconsistent with the university’s spiritual and educational missions.  Undergraduate students live in 27 residence halls, and football players live with the general student population.

Cap found a seat in the upper level, while students were seated courtside.  The rally began with dancers “clogging” to Irish music. The Leprechaun took over and called upon each hall to be heard, and they responded at the top of their lungs.  A student took the mike and predicted a gruesome fate for the Irish opponent, as the crowd roared its agreement.

The students were involved continually, moving to the cadence of the drums with arms pumping to “The Imperial Death March” from Star Wars, and a tomahawk chopping motion to the “1812 Overture.”  After all the predictions that ND will roll tomorrow, the rally ended with the Alma Mater, and the Victory March was ringing through the rafters as the crowd spilled into the night, in search of dragons for their Fighting Irish machine to annihilate.

TC had researched the dinner scene during the day, and had decided on Tippecanoe Place, the old Studebaker mansion on W. Washington St., downtown.  He wheeled into a jammed parking lot, and found a long line of hungry diners.

Without a reservation, he was out of luck.  He made a reservation for Sunday brunch, and considered his remaining options. Rocco’s, on N. St. Louis Blvd., “a student tradition since 1951” is renowned for their pizza, but he craved steak and after a short wait, he was enjoying a strip sirloin at the 222 Italian Steakhouse, south of the College Football Hall of Fame.

Satisfied and full, he drove north past Corby’s Irish Pub, pre-game celebration in full swing, and back to Hammes Bookstore, where Irish music from an O’Neill Brothers CD filled the air.  He overheard some students talking about going to Midnight Drum, and he considered it, for himself.  But he was bushed. 

He finished his shopping for raingear and hit the road.  He put in a CD, just purchased, and as he listened to “Here Come the Irish,” he realized that he had completely released his everyday cares, and that for now, his world consisted of this weekend, and Notre Dame. 

Back at the Quality, he stopped in at Gipper’s, before calling it a night.  Cap toasted the stained glass pictures of legendary Irish coaches and players above the bar, as they watched over

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