Week Four, Part 8 - Not Guilty

On Saturday, Terri and I drive to Notre Dame for the second home game of the season. Last weekend at West Lafayette, the Irish beat Purdue University, 35-28, to even their record at 1-1. The football poll by the Associated Press has Notre Dame ranked 24th.

Today the Irish play Vanderbilt, located in Nashville, Tennessee. Like ND, Vandy is a small, private, selective university. It lacks, though, in Notre Dame’s national brand-name.

The weather is perfect for football, about 70 degrees. I’m wearing shorts and a short-sleeve button-down. Terri has on jeans and a Notre Dame Law t-shirt. Weaving through the crowd, we hold hands to keep from getting separated.

A group of shirtless undergrads run toward us, their heads shaved and painted gold. "Vandy, Vandy, ain’t we dandy!!" they chant and laugh.

Terri says, "They’re blasted and it’s not even noon!"

"If you only knew the academic pressure we Domers face," I say.

Terri feigns exasperation.

We stop at the law school to cool off. I get a drink of water and pick up an "Irish Extra," the pull-out supplement from Friday’s Observer. It has game analysis and a roster for both teams.

"Now I won’t need to buy a program," I tell Terri.

Terri shakes her head, as if my Calvinist frugality is too much to bear. We head out toward the stadium.

I put my arm around her shoulders. "When one is forced to pay one’s tuition himself, one must be careful with one’s money."

Terri’s not rising to the bait.

"What are you thinkin’?" I ask.

"How young all the students are."

"What else?" I ask.

"How good that hot dog is going to taste."

Although the game itself is a route – 41-0, the Irish don’t look sharp. QB Ron Powlus, wearer of Joe Montana's hallowed #3, seems slow and lethargic. During a five-play stretch, he fumbles three times. Lou Holtz is convalescing from major surgery on his spinal cord, so defensive coordinator Bob Davie acts as coach. At the end of the game, the players carry him off on their shoulders.

On the ride home I tell Terri, "I didn’t even feel guilty today."

"Guilty?" she asks.

"Yeah, for not studying during the game," I say, referring to the home opener when I snuck in study cards.

"Good," Terri says, "that’s another victory."

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