Stay Different Irish

In his new book, Shot Ready, Steph Curry opens up about an important self realization. "I'm different," he says. In fact, Curry sees his difference as a “superpower.” As he shares this understanding, it’s clear that being different is not pejorative. It it not something one ought to be ashamed of or seek to change. 

He said, "I was always different in the way I looked and played on the court and so embracing that differences as a superpower as opposed to a boundary or a speed bump I need to get over. That is really how I see the game—knowing that I have a flair and a creativity—embracing it, working on it."

Steph Curry IS different and fans love him for that. The game itself isn't the same because the ways he has exhibited and implemented that flair and creativity. The way he addresses, owns and celebrates his difference got me thinking about people and places who are different too. The University of Notre Dame came to mind. 

In many ways, Notre Dame has been slow to change. The University is ever mindful of its traditions and prides itself on keeping them and passing them on. Participation in game day rituals, dorm life activities, practices of the Catholic faith, and a strong ethos make it stand up and apart from the others. Among alumni and friends, change at Notre Dame isn't always a welcome thing, especially when it comes to football. For example, many fans hated the move to turf, the addition of the electronic scoreboard and even the addition to the stadium. Others are crying out for more change. But I have come to realize these traditions and customs are what make us different—and my time on campus for the Purdue game reminded me how important it is to be different and stay different. After all, we are ND.

The purpose of this post is to name those differences—both those that I appreciate and those I wish we would reconsider. For long time Irish football fans, our differences will ring familiar and true. I am hoping the others will get you thinking. I welcome your feedback. 

We're Different: Example 1—Sign Value
My dad and my uncle want names on the back of football player's jerseys. They understand the rationale for keeping them off: football is a team sport and the emphasis on the only name a player represents is that which they wear on the front of the jersey. I do like following players and while I know many names, the learning curve involves 100+ individuals. Therefore, I have my roster out for a good bit of the game. It's cumbersome, and yes over time I need it less and less. But, I recognize the sign value of not having names—I have written about this before. I am also sympathetic to their request. 

How's this for Sign Value?!

We're Different: Example 2—What you won't find inside ND Stadium
You won’t see any advertising inside Notre Dame Stadium. It’s striking to enter an athletic venue completely free of corporate logos, posters, or ribbon boards. Each end zone features just nine slash marks at a 42-degree angle—a nod to 1842, the year the University was founded. 

This is a striking contrast to Oracle Park in San Francisco, and many other sporting venues. Every year, the Giants' electronic scoreboard grows larger. It’s a shame that corporate logos stake a large amount of real estate on that screen, limiting views of the San Francisco Bay. In contrast, Notre Dame remains refreshingly simple and pure.

We're Different: Example 3—What you will find inside ND Stadium
The flag pole is in the south end zone of Notre Dame Stadium. I'm not sure I would have realized just how special and how different that is if my dear friend and former roommate Erin hadn't called it to my attention. 

Most flags fly at the main entrance or plaza of the stadium, above or near the press box or even in an end zone or above a screen board. But the placement of the flag pole at ND allows for a distinguished individual to present the flag and for fans to pause and take notice of this important ritual. As part of the celebration of 50 years of women's' athletics at Notre Dame, Ruth Riley Hunter presented the flag on behalf of every woman who’s worn the Irish jersey. Go Irish!

We're Different: Example 4—Victory Walk
Much to the delight of Irish fans, Coach Marcus Freeman reinstated the Notre Dame “Victory Walk” tradition: a pre-game procession from the Basilica of the Sacred Heart—where players attend Mass—into Notre Dame Stadium. The practice had been discontinued under Coach Kelly, who moved team Masses to Friday, rather than on the day of the game. 

This was one of the very first changes Coach Freeman brought to the program—and he was clear about why it mattered to him. I agree wholeheartedly. To me, this tradition speaks volumes: Notre Dame is a Catholic institution, and moving from spirituality to sport in this way underscores who we are and what we stand for.

And yet, we're no different....
Notre Dame has and DOES change. For each of the four differences I described, there are changes that make me think we are just like everyone else. Maybe you will find those changes to be a "force for good." I'm not against change, but I am pointing to the differences I question.

We're Not Different #1: Player Promotion
As mentioned, the only type of advertising on the scoreboard is for campus programs and university highlights. Fans can turn to the scoreboard for replays of the game and in review of calls from the ref. The only individuals featured on the screen by name are those receiving academic awards, other sports teams—men's track and field, women's soccer, etc. and special guests. 

For the first time however, I saw highlight reels showcasing individual athletes. After a touchdown by Jeremiyah Love, I saw what he just accomplished followed by past plays and his famous heart hand gesture from other games. As much as I love Love—and he wasn't the only athlete singled out— I was surprised by this change. I imagine the reality of N.I.L. sparked this shift but I am disappointed that an important way Notre Dame football communicates its team first mentality is a thing of the past.

We're Not Different #2: Turn Down for What
One of the greatest sounds associated with college football is the cadence, beat and rhythms of a marching band. I love hearing the Band of the Fighting Irish as they enter the stadium and take the field. Their music is far from limited to just pregame/postgame and halftime. The drums and songs that punctuate first downs, time outs, the end of the third quarter color my memories of my time as a student at ND.

Today the University allows for popular music in addition to the band. I arrived inside Notre Dame Stadium excited to teach my cousin's daughter Addison all of the moves and dance drills associated with the little ditties of the ND Band. Unfortunately, far too much of their music was drowned out by the likes of Ozzy Ozbourne's "Crazy Train" and a jock-rock favorite: "Turn Down for What." I'm not sure how many more times I can or should hear the "Price is Right" theme song.

Any school and any stadium can press play on hard rock or hip hop. Not every place offers melodies from the best band in college football. Fighting Irish Media, PLEASE reconsider.

We're Not Different #3: Speaking of music...
My friend Bill and I caught the procession of players and coaches close to the Hesburgh library. I loved seeing them in dress ware—a uniform navy blazer and dress shirt. A few wore ties; all carry their own backpacks.

I realize they are moving from a place of introspection and prayer to a public space that is loud and demands a lot from them. I get that they want to be "in the zone," but I wish they would remove their head phones/ take out their ear buds. To me, silencing the cheers and potential jeers creates a barrier. For example, when I saw Cooper Flanagan, I yelled out "Go Spartans!" I wanted to make a connection to his high school alma mater, De La Salle high school. Those AirPods prevent any sort of communique.

These athletes are modeling what we see every week in the NFL and among their peer group. Am I asking too much in requesting that they be open and stay open to family, friends and fans who call their name and cheer for Old Notre Dame?!

We're Not Different #4: Kegs in the Dorm is a No, Beer inside the Stadium is a Yes...
Maybe it's because we are Irish, but Notre Dame has always had a interesting, dynamic and complicated relationship with alcohol. We are anything but a dry campus. Kegs were forbidden but students still host parties in their dorm rooms—offering booze that has been "snuck in." The tailgating culture has certainly increased and many students at ND do what others do on Game Day: throw back a few, play drinking games, take Jell-o shots and more. others binge drink.

Critiquing culture around alcohol isn't a bad thing, and so it is with that spirit that I raise a question about the sale of it during games. Now, we match the practices of most other Power Five conference schools that have been selling alcohol for years. The powers that be made the change to  provide a more modern fan experience, generate revenue, and align with other major college and professional sports venues.

I asked students if they bought beer or wine during the game. About half said it was too pricey and others said "of course." I thought the editorial, Notre Dame’s approval rating skyrockets after allowing sale of alcohol in stadium from The Observer, the student run paper was hilarious. While ND's policy has changed, it's good to see that student responses have not. Witty. Snarky. Funny. No different.

No Family is the Same
Amidst our practices and pathways, I think it's always good to evaluate who we are and what we do. As I wrote this post, I was able to call attention to what makes Notre Dame distinct, unique and different. What is our flair? In what ways are the Irish creative? 

I think our greatest superpower can be found in the fact that we pride ourselves on being a Notre Dame Family—and no family is the same. Each one is different. We grow up. We grow old and pass our values and traditions from one generation to the next. Let's continue to do this, to add and subtract, review and respect our family name.

This was one of my favorite visits back to campus for a game because
I got to share the ND family with my own family and friends who are like family.

I carried these observations home with me—grateful, happy and with a full heart. My students asked if we stayed for the entire game. I said "how could we not? Making the pilgrimage to Notre Dame for a game runs on kairotic time. Time is not chronological." I was able to share the entire weekend with special family members—My Uncle Jay, Aunt Wendy, my cousin Jodi, her husband C.W. and their awesome four children: Regan, Harrison, Quinn and Addison. They visited me when I was a student and it was a treat to reconnect on campus once again and make new memories. I shared game day with friends who are like family—my former colleague Bill, the ACE IV cohort and the Shiogis. We celebrated 50 years of women's sports at Notre Dame. I sang the Alma Mater after a win and at the dedication of the Main Circle to the women of Notre Dame.

I'm different because of my time at Notre Dame and in the many years since I have graduated. That's a good thing.

Photo Credits
Player Walk
Ruth Riley Hunter
Jeremiyah Love

From Roy Hobbs to Rocky Balboa—We Remember Robert Redford

As my students walked into class this morning, I played the theme from The Natural. To hear Randy Newman's masterpiece, especially inside a baseball stadium is an ethereal experience—otherworldly, delicately beautiful, light, and spiritual. In class, I did not expect the prologue to bring us to another realm, but I did want to set the tone to honor the American actor, activist, director and producer: Robert Redford. He died in sleep; he was 89 years old.

I was too young to see Robert Redford’s most popular films in theaters—The Way We Were, The Sting, The Great Gatsby, as well as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid— among others. But in 1984, I saw The Natural at the Dome theater in Pleasant Hill. I didn’t fully understand it at the time, but I loved the era, the setting, the symbolism of Wonderboy and the character of Roy Hobbs. Redford was too old for the role (he was 47) but to me, he was a good fit. Why? He had a great voice. It is low, measured and quietly authoritative. Those qualities gave Roy Hobbs a sense of dignity, humility, and determination. He emerges as a man who lets his actions, not his words, speak loudest. 

I read Bernard Malamud's novel, "The Natural" in high school. I was shocked to discover the ending was far different than what I had seen on the silver screen. That dissonance confirmed, "The Natural is not just a baseball movie—it’s a mythic American parable dressed in the rhythms and imagery of the sport." (Rolling Stone). In this instance, the protagonist might have been Robert Redford—and not Roy Hobbs.

On KGO radio I learned that Robert Redford once admitted he felt discriminated against because of his good looks. Casting directors, he said, sometimes dismissed him for roles, believing his “All-American” image made him unfit for certain characters. It struck me as a curious plight—being too handsome for Hollywood—but in at least one case, I think he was right. The 1976 Academy Award winning film: Rocky. 

Can you imagine Robert Redford as Rocky Balboa? Could you cheer for Redford as the Italian Stallion? I couldn't. And yet, it could have happened—if not for the grit and resolve of Sylvester Stallone, who not only wrote the script but insisted on playing the role himself.

According to Screenrant, 

Producers and directors loved Stallone’s script but weren’t enamored with the idea of him playing the main character, which was a condition he insisted upon. Instead, they had much bigger names in mind, such as Peyton Place’s Ryan O’Neill, Burt Reynolds, Robert Redford, and James Caan. The latter three were all Hollywood A-listers and household names that audiences were accustomed to seeing on the big screen. To the producers, it just made sense for someone like one of them to star in a movie with Rocky’s potential.

I find this anecdote to be a fascinating one. Sometimes we make choices to be part of something or not. At other times, the decision is made for us. Had he earned the leading role, would Redford have accepted the part of Rocky? Do you think he too could yell "Yo Adrienne?"

Life takes funny turns—up and down, in and out. We are left with memories, stories, images, and song. Whether it’s Sir John Williams’ masterpiece, the theme from Out of Africa, or the mystical melody of The Natural, Robert Redford gave us a face, a voice, and a presence that captured our imagination and our hearts. Not in the boxing ring, but on the baseball field, while fly fishing, and in so many other moments. And perhaps, in the end, the words he spoke are the truest: “Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.”

Photo Credits
The Natural
Rocky

The Story of LSU's Tiger Tuba Kent and the Importance of Dreaming

I told a former student just the other night at dinner that I was in need of some inspiration. Part of me felt disappointed for even admitting that. After all, I work in a school and am surrounded by young people every day. Heck, I teach a class called Sports and Spirituality. There's no shortage of inspiration. Ever. But lighting that fire within just can't be forced. It isn't a given. 

So I did what the Gospel of Matthew calls us to do: seek, and you shall find. And I did find it—through the unlikely story of Kent Broussard—a 66-year-old freshman at Louisiana State University. After decades of working as an accountant, Broussard enrolled as a non-traditional student, carrying 12 credit hours. That full-time status made him eligible to try out for and earn a place in the LSU marching band.

Initially, I read his story with suspicion. I wondered if he was a donor who had taken loyalty to the next level. I needed to know, Was he a current parent who went further than decorating his child's dorm room with a designer on the payroll? Was this some prize pick for a "friend of the program?" Did he pay up for an auction item allowing him to wear purple and gold inside Death Valley? I read his story and caught the interview.

As I watched, I noticed familiar signs of a people and culture I got to know and appreciate during my two years living and teaching in Napoleonville, in South Louisiana. In the background was a framed Saints jersey and on the adjacent wall was what else? a deer head. This man with a fantastic Cajun surname is true South Louisiana. Of course he yells "Geaux Tigers."

With the support of his wife—God bless this woman—he undertook physical training to prepare for tryouts. He practiced and prepped. He earned his keep. 

Broussard believes, “People can use this as an example — your only failure is not trying. If you don’t try, you won’t get there."

He lives by the motto "people retire, dreams don't." Some of us dream of retiring. Others don't have that luxury. But for Broussard, this stage of life offered brought the opportunity of a lifetime: the chance to march down Victory Hill, to carry and play that tuba in front thousands of adoring fans...and others who will be called "Tiger Bait" by that home crowd (I was in the Fall of 1997. ND 24, LSU 6. Go Irish). I would just like to thank him for the inspiration and the reminder to keep dreaming.

In his "Last Lecture" the late Randy Pausch addressed the importance of "Achieving Your Childhood Dreams." He said

And it was an easy time to dream. I was born in 1960. Right? When you're eight or nine years old and you look at the TV set and men are landing on the moon, anything is possible. And that's something we should not lose sight of. Is that the inspiration and the permission to dream is huge.

I worry that today is different. I wonder how easy it is for young people to dream. Whether we are seeking inspiration or an exemplar, I believe "Tiger Tuba Kent" has given us permission to keep dreaming. 

And in case you're wondering what Kent Broussard is studying when he's not at band practice—my guess is something he might have wanted study. Why stop at one dream, right?

Photo Credits
People retire
KB

From Mass to Monterey: Reflections on the 2025 Walker Cup

Friday began with Mass of the Holy Spirit and concluded with a flag raising for the 50th Walker Cup Golf championship. Needless to say, it was a very "thick" day. Fans of the writer and political/cultural commentator David Brooks might agree.

St. Ignatius College Prep is one of many Jesuit academic institutions and Catholic schools that begins the academic year with a traditional Catholic liturgy. This mass calls on the third person of the Trinity—the Holy Spirit—to lead and guide us in our studies and sports, creative endeavors and co-curriculars. With the priest dressed in a red vestment, songs like "Come Holy Spirit," and art work by students featuring a dove flying amidst tongues of fire—this faithful gathering marks the beginning of a new year. 

During his homily, Father John McGarry, SJ referred to one of my favorite Opinion pieces by Brooks, entitled "How to Leave a Mark on People." 

McGarry read from it. He said, "Some organizations are thick, and some are thin. Some leave a mark on you, and some you pass through with scarcely a memory." He added, "I haven't worked at SI for long, but it's obvious to me, this place is thick. You are wondering what that might mean." Brooks writes

A thick institution becomes part of a person's identity and engages the whole person: head, hands, heart and soul. 

Such institutions have a set of collective rituals.  They have shared tasks, which often involve members closely watching one another, the way hockey teammates have to observe everybody else on the ice. 

Such organizations often tell and retell a sacred origin story about themselves. Many experienced a moment when they nearly failed, and they celebrate the heroes who pulled them from the brink. They have a common ideal -- encapsulated, for example, in the Semper Fi motto for the Marines.

Father McGarry embellished on Brooks' works in adding, "It's also important to have an idiosyncratic local culture. Thick Institutions leave a mark on their students, and today you are being marked by the Holy Spirit."

What a powerful message, but what might that mean? Ignatius of Loyola said "go forth and set the world on fire." He believed that all we do should be done for the "greater glory of God," AMDG. His messaging resonates with all that the Mass of the Holy Spirit invokes. We are blessed to inherit such a legacy and command. It's worth passing down from one generation to the next. #SoThick.

After mass, I left San Francisco for the shores of Pebble Beach to get inside the gates of Cypress Point Golf Club. Friday consisted of a practice round and the official flag raising ceremony to commence the tourney. The guest of honor was none other than George W. Bush, the 43rd President of the United States. His great-grandfather Herbert (Bert) Walker founded the championship in 1922 as a way to foster international goodwill through golf. Yes, the W in George W. Bush stands for Walker.

The ceremony opened with a stirring U.S. military flyover, followed by a warm welcome from USGA President Mike Whan. Three national anthems were played as the Union Jack, the Irish tricolor, and the Stars and Stripes were raised.

I started to get choked upon hearing the Star Spangled Banner. I felt a wave of emotion as I watched President Bush, knowing he had devoted his life to serving the country for which both the song and the flag stand.

This moment hit me in as I was thinking ahead to this week, knowing we will watch "Nine Innings from Ground Zero."  It is an HBO documentary that explores how baseball became a unifying force for collective mourning and hope. George W. Bush makes an indelible mark in my Sports and Spirituality curriculum as he threw the first pitch inside Yankee Stadium in the 2001 World Series. The message he sent by showing up, standing tall and throwing a strike spoke volumes. It left a mark. And the beauty of that memory is that it still does today. 

At 79 years old, President Bush was attentive, personal and affable. The USGA did a great job of capturing his interaction with the players (see their social media postings!). I wanted to shake his hand and tell him about my class. I wish I could have told him how much my sister and I appreciate his art. He was swept away by friends and secret service. He is one of my heroes, and for reasons you might not expect. Please ask me about it.

His remarks were brief, but they captured what made the event so meaningful. He shared memories of his great-grandfather and reflected on the values of sport and the privilege of competition. He took time to recognize the men and women working behind the scenes—the people we might not think to thank—for making the weekend possible. Most impressively, he didn’t overemphasize his own role; he stepped aside graciously, making space for the current USGA president, Fred Prepall.

Prepall spoke of the many gifts golf offers—friendship, fitness, competition, and a love of nature. He invited the crowd to pause, saying, “Close your eyes. Take in this moment. The fact that you are standing here means you have lived a great life.” A hush fell over the audience; no one could disagree.

I stood on the fairway of one of golf’s greatest cathedrals, surrounded by beloved friends, framed by towering cypress trees. The sun was shining, and beyond us stretched the Pacific Ocean and Monterey Bay. It was a sacred moment—one that was made possible by what else? thick institutions.

Thick institutions demand something of us. I can't leave my time and experience from the Walker Cup and remain unaware or ungrateful. Though tired, I took a lot of time on Sunday preparing for school as it is an important week. 

My roommate recently asked why I work so often after school and on weekends. “What is it about teaching that asks so much of you?” she wondered. I shared a few thoughts about what the school year demands and why summer break feels so essential for renewal. Then she asked, “Well, it sounds like a lot. What’s the reward?”

Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and showed her a photo from the weekend of a former student and his mom. “This,” I said. “It’s about the relationships.”

That relationship exists because of a “thick institution”—a community with shared history, rituals, and values that hold us together.

I told Neal I’d be showing Nine Innings from Ground Zero in class this week and asked if he remembered it. Without missing a beat, he replied, “Yes. It recalls how Bush threw the first pitch in the World Series.” Clearly, it left its mark. 

Come Holy Spirit.

Photo Credits
Thank you to my friend Malia, for always taking great photos.  #appreciated!
Cypress

From Redskins to Rushing Irish: What Do Our Mascots Say About Us?

Moving through the San Diego airport, I did a double take. I hadn’t seen that image in years — an illustration of a Native American chief, a composite that included Blackfeet chief Two Guns White Calf on a burgundy and gold jacket. The Washington NFL team retired both the logo and the “Redskins” name in 2020, replacing them with new branding. Today, they’re known as the Washington Commanders, though many—including the President—wish they weren’t. The jacket I saw looked like a relic from the ’80s: synthetic fiber, faded colors, worn seams. Still, it sparked a question I’m still turning over in my mind: Should someone still wear this logo?

Notre Dame opened the season against the Miami Hurricanes, rekindling one of college football’s great rivalries of the late ’80s and ’90s. These matchups loom large in memory, forever tied to the moniker “Catholics vs. Convicts.” First printed on a shirt sold on the ND campus, the phrase became iconic—so much so that ESPN devoted a 30 for 30 documentary to it. The Irish won that legendary game 31–30 at home, a regular-season victory that propelled them to their most recent national championship. Before this season’s game, I saw a resurgence of the green “Catholics” vs. orange “Convicts” shirts all over social media—and even on a few friends and classmates. Once again, the question surfaced: Should someone still wear it?

I decided to ask other sports fans and friends what they thought. Their answers varied widely. Loyalty runs deep, and most people don’t like being told what to do. Several expressed frustration—and fatigue—with what they called “wokeness.” More than once, I heard comments like, “We’ve taken things way too far,” and, “Let’s not get caught up in matters like this.” Others offered more nuance: “If I grew up in Cleveland and the Indians were my team, I might have a different relationship with the Chief Wahoo logo. Sports evoke memories, and that’s what I knew, what I cheered for.” A few even wrestled openly with the dilemma: “Just because I can wear it, should I?” That’s the question I keep coming back to. Because we can—does that mean we should?

My own authentic Catholics vs. Convicts t-shirt once hung in the back corner of my classroom, handsomely framed and often sparking enthusiastic remarks from students. One day, after class, a student asked me about it. I told him the story of the rivalry, my connection to the students who sold the shirt on campus, and how, against the odds, the Irish prevailed that season. He told me he had seen the 30 for 30 documentary and felt there were clear racist undertones in the slogan—which, in hindsight, there were. “I wonder how Miami fans feel about that moniker,” he said. “I’m sure some embrace it, but overall the optic isn’t good.”

I was defensive at first, rushing to defend my team and the ethos of Notre Dame athletics in my own mind. I even questioned his motive for asking about it. But later, I let his words settle. Eventually, I took the shirt down. In someone’s den or basement, with proper historical context, it might still have a place. But in my classroom, it felt different. I’ve come to believe the slogan carries racial undertones—though I know others don’t see it that way. I could wear the shirt or hang it, but I have decided not to do either. 

It’s worth noting that changing team names and logos isn’t a new or uniquely “woke” trend. Take Stanford, for example. I had always wondered how they ended up with “Cardinal”—just a color—as their name and a tree as their mascot. It turns out the student body pushed for change back in the 1970s, retiring the “Indians” name and imagery after Native American students spoke out about its harm. I find this to be a powerful testimony; history is a great teacher.

I'm going to let ChatGPT outline the movement (teachers, this is poignant example of when and how to allow students to use A.I.)

Early Mascot History: Stanford’s teams were originally known as the “Indians,” a nickname that dates back to around 1930. The name was meant to reference the school’s early use of Native American imagery, including a caricatured mascot and symbols.

Growing Awareness: By the late 1960s and early 1970s, the Civil Rights Movement and the growing voice of Native American students began to challenge stereotypical depictions and the use of Indigenous cultures as mascots.

Student Advocacy: In 1972, Stanford’s Native American students, supported by other student groups, formally petitioned the university to drop the “Indians” name and mascot. They argued that the imagery was offensive and perpetuated harmful stereotypes.

Decision to Change: In April 1972, Stanford President Richard Lyman announced that the university would retire the “Indians” name and associated imagery, citing the harm it caused to Native students and the broader Native community.

What Happened Next: After the change, Stanford’s teams were officially referred to simply as “Stanford” for several years. In 1981, they adopted the singular nickname “Cardinal” (referring to the color, not the bird). The Block “S” with a tree — a reference to El Palo Alto, the tree featured on Stanford’s seal — eventually became the primary logo.

So while Stanford’s athletic logo and mascot change happened in the 1970s (not the 1950s), it was one of the earlier examples of a major university dropping a Native American mascot out of respect for Indigenous people.

Sports team names, mascots, and logos are woven into our everyday lives; they’re deeply embedded in our culture. For many, they’re tied to identity and belonging. Raising questions about how we illustrate, name, and understand one another is not new.

These conversations often get pulled into politics, claimed by special interest groups, and can spark heated debate. Sometimes we get lost in the details—and sometimes that’s necessary. After all, how we relate to and treat each other can’t be separated from the names we use, the images we display, and the stories we tell.

The term "Redskin" is riddled with controversy. The studies around it conflicting reports and details. I appreciate what the ACLU has written. I think the Washington football team did the right thing. For those who think otherwise, let's continue the conversation.

Two minutes before the bell rang to conclude my Sports and Spirituality class, my student told me that Notre Dame changed their logo. I immediately thought "Oh wow. Did I miss the issue in question? I have read the history and origin of the Fighting Irish time and again. Is there a problem with the leprechaun?"

Turns out it's a marketing ploy. As written on the Notre Dame Athletics website, "the athletic department has released the Football Leprechaun mark that will be followed by more sport-specific marks representing each unique sport in which the Fighting Irish compete at the varsity level."

They added, "The Notre Dame Leprechaun is a secondary spirit mark of Notre Dame athletics. Its long-standing history represents the tenacious spirit of the Fighting Irish and their determination. The Leprechaun is recognized around the world today as the mascot of Notre Dame athletics dating back to its design in the early 1960s."

 Though the change did not prompt an ethical questions, it certainly got people talking. To me, it makes no sense. We are the FIGHTING Irish and I love that our moniker prompts the question "What would you fight for?" Now, all I see is the rushing Irish (Is he a running back?!). I look forward to seeing the leprechaun rowing soon.

During the Miami game, every time I saw head coach Marcus Freeman, my eyes were drawn to that new logo. Emblazoned on his shirt, it was impossible to miss. That insight reinforced my belief: logos and names send messages—whether we intend them to or not. They can invite curiosity, spark questions, and open conversations. And maybe that’s the name of the game, set, match. 

Photo Credits
Rushing Leprechaun
HCMF
Stanford Indian
Catholics vs. Convicts