Over the years, I had a few chances to talk sports with former University President Emeritus, Fr. Theodore Hesburgh. I watched a Bookstore Basketball game with him one time. Sat with him at a varsity mens' game another. Even talked football with him at a political fundraiser. I actually had the moxie to ask him if he and Fr. Ned Joyce really wanted to deemphasize football at Notre Dame, as Fighting Irish conspiracy theorists loved to assert after a particularly tough loss, a bad season or a Gerry Faust.
“Heavens no,” Ted said without hesitation. “Football is a huge part of who we are, what we are, at Notre Dame. Mind you, it's not all of who we are, or what we are, but any successful whole is always the sum of its parts.”
Still, whenever I was with him and the subject of sports came up, I always got the feeling that, while he was a fan, he really didn't understand, nor did he care to understand, the minutiae that so many Irish fans get (overly) immersed in.
(For example, my guess is Ted would think ‘a good pick’ was not something that would set up a clean three-pointer from the corner but rather someone selected to serve on some commission set up to save the world.)
Nevertheless, despite his lack of technical interest in last night's heartbreaker of a loss in the NCAA Regional Final, I suspect Ted enjoyed the game immensely, although perhaps for reasons different from those of the average fan.
May I speculate?
I think Ted would be extremely proud of every player and coach on the team, from Mike Brey on down, not only for how they play but also for how they conduct themselves, how they treat others, show respect for everyone and never, ever, display any kind of negative reaction that would reflect badly on the university he loved — that we all love — so much.
Still, I also believe he would take a long, deep puff on his cigar and smile at the effort with which this team paved the floor of the Quicken Arena. They played their guts out. No quitting and, most importantly, no excuses. Ted's whole life was a living documentary on the simple fact that good, clean hard work matters, a 97-year lesson on effort — giving and trying and not quitting and always believing that somehow, some way, this would always be enough. It usually is.
But not always.
And when it's not — when you bust your butt and fall just a-little-too-long-Jerian Grant prayer-from-the-corner-at-the-
And last night they made all of us who believe very deeply in that chant, that moniker, very, very proud.
But you know what? Most of all, I think Ted would be proudest of and most touched by the coming together — the communion — of a black kid named Grant and a white guy named Connaughton — two strangers who didn't know each other only four years ago, who now know they will be closer than brothers for the rest of their lives. These two kids — two men — whose mutual respect and, yes, love for each other set an example for every other kid on this team, at this University and hopefully across a nation where cops and kids still kill one another just because the other is a different color. Individually, neither Jerian Grant nor Pat Connaughton could have provided the leadership necessary to propel a team that was never the biggest, usually not the quickest and many times did not have the most raw talent on the court, to the places these guys went this season.
Together, however, Grant and Connaughton made a team, a University and for all but a few seconds last night, a nation, actually believe that it really is character, not color, that makes the difference between success and failure.
That belief, more than anything else, is what Ted dedicated his life to. And that, I am sure, is what made him most proud last night.
So today, while we mourn what ended last night, and think about what could have been, we also celebrate what was. And what was is one of the finest collections of men, Notre Dame men, that ever played any game at any time for the Fighting Irish.
I am quite certain Father Ted would agree.
Frank LaGrotta
Class of 1981
March 29
