T-37: Reasons BamaWriter Hates Notre Dame: First Impressions

As a lifelong Bama fan, there have been two constants for me in college football that have never wavered--I love the Crimson Tide, and I loathe the Fighting Irish.

My feelings toward our SEC brethren have vacillated through the years--there’s even been a rare occasion when I pulled for Auburn. Not so with Notre Dame. The purity of my hatred for the blue and gold rivals the purity of my love for the crimson and white.

Over the next 37 days, I will enumerate the building blocks that compose this wall of venom in my heart. But before I embark on this dark road, let me add a few clarifying remarks:

• I think Notre Dame, historically, is one of (if not) the best college football teams in history. The Irish have earned their place in the record books with storied wins, talented players, and legendary coaches, and they have done so with integrity and honor. I have tremendous respect for Notre Dame and think college football is better when the Irish are good. Nothing I say in the days ahead is meant to detract from their legacy.

• When I use words like “hate” and “loathe” and “despise” and “spawned from the pit of hell” I am being hyperbolic. The players and coaches associated with Notre Dame are good people. At least as good as any other collegiate institution, perhaps even better in some regards. The expression of my feelings is meant to be comparative and illustrative.

• My points are intensely personal. I’ll admit in advance that some of them are indefensible, contradictory, and even illogical. This is not meant to be an air-tight argument regarding the worthiness of hating Notre Dame.

With that in mind, let the journey begin …

T-37 First Impressions

My earliest, clear memory of football dates back to December 31, 1973. Alabama had started the season ranked #6, but eventually rose to #1 after downing LSU 21-7 and crushing Auburn 35-0. Their narrowest margin of victory was 14 points (Kentucky, Georgia, LSU). Notre Dame, likewise, cruised through the regular season with their closest game coming against USC, 23-14.

I remember my father talking about this being the first meeting of two giants. Local newspapers portrayed the game as North vs South, Catholic vs Baptist, Ara vs Bear, Culture vs Redneck, and so on. I understood little of that at the time. Instead, I felt the growing excitement of Alabama (my team, my state!) being involved in something huge.

Our two-story house had a den on the lower level, and that’s where we gathered on that final night of 1973 to watch history unfold. Several neighbors joined us, and I felt older than my eight years as the men in the room included me in the discussion. Not that I had any keen analysis to offer, but I did have enthusiasm.

Howard Cosell’s voice still rings in my ears as Notre Dame scored first. They missed the extra point, and I remember one neighbor assuring me that would come back to haunt the Irish. “Missing an extra point,” he said, “could easily cost you a game.” He had no way of knowing the prophetic nature of his words.

Alabama rallied to take the lead, 7-6, midway through the second quarter, but then Notre Dame ran the kickoff back for a touchdown. The joy of holding the lead lasted all of 13 seconds of game time. But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, Notre Dame went for the two point conversion and made it. It felt like Notre Dame had some kind of supernatural luck that easily compensated for dire circumstances.

Alabama got a field goal to end the half, and Notre Dame led at intermission, 14-10.

Alabama scored first in the third quarter to briefly take the lead again, 17-14. But the Irish fought back and made it 21-17. Then I beheld beauty and tragedy in the span of seconds. Alabama quarterback, Richard Todd, handed the ball to Mike Stock who looked to be penned in by the Notre Dame defense. However, Todd had rolled to the left and Stock passed the ball to Todd for a 25 yard TD. It was a trick play that remains etched in my memory. The elation was short-lived, though, when we missed the extra point to take a 23-21 lead.

Notre Dame marched 79 yards for a field goal to take the lead 24-23. And then it happened … the beginning of my hate for the team from South Bend. Alabama had them pinned deep in their own territory, facing a 3rd and 8 from their own 2.5 yard line. Make the stop, get the punt return, kick a field goal, and win the game. But Notre Dame gambled and threw a long pass. When that ball sailed through the air from Clements to Weber, I felt the life drain from the room. I looked at the faces of the grown men in the room for some glimmer of hope, but all I saw was despair. Everyone knew the game was over.

On some deep, carnal level, seeds of hatred were sown as I watched those golden helmets dance across the field in delight. I hate that my first real memory of my beloved Crimson Tide is a loss. I hate even more that it was a loss to Notre Dame.

EDIT: Changed "green and gold" to "blue and gold". Thanks Erasmus92.