By Evanston standards, Saturday, Oct. 5, was Mardi Gras, with the Northwestern-Ohio State football game as the backdrop.
The combination of night football, an ASG-sponsored beer garden-meets-carnival tailgate and a top-5 opponent armed with a Heisman candidate gave Ryan Field a charged atmosphere not seen in these parts since the 2000 season.
But the atmosphere surrounding the most anticipated game of the year couldn’t come close to topping a normal football saturday at a school that practically invented the term “Football Saturday.” Ever since seeing Rudy sprint onto the field in the theater, I’ve wanted to make the trip to Notre Dame and see the best college football has to offer. It wasn’t until last weekend that I got the chance.
A short stay in South Bend, Ind., confirmed what I already knew: Football at Notre Dame is followed with extreme fervor and filled with impressive tradition — everything NU football lacks. But I also noticed a culture of football idolatry and pompousness — everything NU should never try to be.
Scalpers and “I need tickets” signs marked the entrance to South Bend when we rolled in Friday evening. Our first stop was a pep rally for Saturday’s Notre Dame-Pittsburgh game. Upwards of 12,000 people crammed the Joyce Center basketball arena to hear a series of motivational speeches, including an over-zealous, middle-aged alumnus who urged the crowd to “raise the roof” on Saturday.
The biggest cheer came for first-year coach Tyrone Willingham, who was greeted by bows and hands flashing the “W” signal. When he spoke, the room was silent. When he told the crowd to clap, they clapped. Had he told the people to dump water on their neighbors, the crowd would have been soaking wet.
Around campus, signs of football were everywhere. One side of a dorm was completely covered by a banner reading, “Here come the Irish.” Another dorm, named Stanford Hall, unofficially was renamed “Willingham Hall.” (Note: At NU, students could follow suit by renaming the Plex “Randy-Walker,” though it wouldn’t necessarily be a compliment.) Inside the building, flyers asking for spare tickets adorned the walls.
Saturday, I was awakened by a phrase rarely uttered at NU: “Get up, it’s already 9:30.” Mind you, game time was 1:30 p.m.
The parking lots near Notre Dame Stadium were filled half an hour later. At the student book store, former NU and Notre Dame coach Ara Parseghian was casually signing autographs. Blocks away, fans in Irish football jerseys littered the lawn in front of Touchdown Jesus hours before the game.
Inside the stadium, students made their section a mass of green, wearing shirts reading, “Return to Glory.” During the game, the cheers were loud and in unison. At halftime, the section engaged in a mammoth marshmallow fight.
Most impressively, the crowd managed to keep up its intensity during a sleepy 14-6 Irish win that made an NU game look like Arena football. After the victory — which put the Irish at 6-0 — many fans remained at their tailgating spots well into the night.
The football experience at Notre Dame lasted more than 24 hours. The football experience at NU sometimes lasts four. In South Bend, football is a religious experience. In Evanston, it’s a hobby.
Seasons like ’95, ’96 and ’00 are incredible treats for Wildcats fans. They are what Irish fans expect on a yearly basis.
Few environments can compare to Notre Dame on a football Saturday. That was evident this weekend, as history, pageantry and an undefeated football team converged.
NU never will compare to Notre Dame in any football category. Cat fans can learn a lot from the loyalty and intensity of the large Irish backing. But with the attention comes scrutiny and high expectations, which often become more than an athlete or coach can handle.
Maybe there is something to like about low pressure, a good-‘ol 87-point shootout and the occasional chance for an upset.
Elia Powers is a Medill senior. He can be reached at [email protected].
