One Win Short: My Thoughts on Notre Dame Football and the 2025 Postseason

In the first episode of Season 2 of "Here Come the Irish," Nicole Auerbach— a prominent college sports journalist, football and basketball insider— said, "One of the most interesting story lines from last year is that Notre Dame was likable program. No matter where you live in the country you're aware of them. You've watched them and have probably rooted against them. They became so likable because of Marcus Freeman— he's cool, he's young, and that resonated with a lot of people." Irish fans know exactly what she is talking about.

Being a Notre Dame football fan isn’t easy, though Marcus Freeman has made it easier. It's like Irish fans are required to take a Masterclass in emotional endurance. For example, I began this season convinced it was “our year”; two weeks later, I was licking wounds and clawing my way out of a very dark place. We are fiercely proud of the program—and relentlessly critiqued for it.

Since Sunday, the number of unsolicited opinions that have come my way—about the CFB selection committee’s decision to exclude Notre Dame from the playoffs and the team’s decision not to play in a bowl game—has been staggering. Sports fans are anything but neutral on this topic. 

Being an ND fan is both a blessing and a burden; I think New York Yankees fans might stand in solidarity with me. We balance decades of history and tradition, long-lived loyalty and long-standing disdain. We aren’t called the Fightin’ Irish for nothing.

It’s not easy to take the high road, and many ND fans don’t. But for those who do—like Head Coach Marcus Freeman (HCMF)—I'd like to offer a few responses to the questions most people aren’t asking me. I wish they would; I think they’d be surprised by my answers. Here we go.

"The Spirit of Notre Dame" that first episode of Season 2—begins with the end in mind—or rather, the end of the 2024 football season on the screen. As the scene fades from Atlanta’s Mercedes-Benz Stadium, the audience hears: “The Ohio State Buckeyes have won the national championship, and Notre Dame’s season comes up one win short.” Though that moment took place on January 20, 2025, the message proved true once again.

All week, people have debated and dissected the selection committee’s decision. Regardless of how someone feels about Alabama or Miami, James Madison University or Tulane, the reality is that ND came up one game short—again. We needed to win one of the two games we lost during the regular season. Yes, we lost by a combined total of four points, and yes, we won out the rest of the season, but the truth remains: we lost two games and that makes us one win short.

As I was setting up shop in my classroom, one of my students told me—unprompted—that Notre Dame's decision not to play in a bowl game was childish and selfish. I have seen and read similar sentiments all over social media. Yes he knows I am a big fan and yes, he knows that comment will affect his grade (kidding). 

I remained calm. I listened to his thoughts and asked clarification questions to gain a better understanding. I paused and then I launched my retort.

I told him that I am proud what was the teams's decision. According to inside sources, Team 139's six captains met and then spoke with HCMF. I think this is an important component to the story. This decision came from within—not on high. @NDFootball posted what you see above.  I think this was a prudent decision for several reasons.

For one, the 2025 team would not have played in a bowl game; that team played their last game at Stanford Stadium on November 29, 2025. Players who plan to go into the draft to play professionally would sit out for fear of injury. (I can still see Jaylon Smith's go down as he suffered a severe left knee injury, tearing his ACL and MCL and damaging the peroneal nerve, dramatically compromising his selection in the draft). Had the Irish been in contention for a national championship, all of Team 139 would compete. The reality of today's game however means that potential draft players won't. This is not unique to Notre Dame. 

Some say not allowing seniors to play one more game is a significant reason this decision is so misguided. I disagree. The team honored 32 seniors on Saturday, November 22, 2025 on the field, inside of Notre Dame Stadium before the Syracuse game. To me, this is the ideal way to send off a senior—not at a bowl game. Many of those seniors will however play elsewhere next year as graduate students. 

I have been told that Notre Dame is paying the price for not joining a conference. Clearly we play by our own rules. And to me, those rules allow a team to say "no" to a postseason bid. I have long believed that sometimes a "no" is a "yes." Here's how.

Although some will contest this, the players on the Irish squad are still classified as student athletes. This means they have exams in the coming week. Before and during final exams, yes, the team will continue to workout, lift and train but they are not studying game film, practicing plays or learning new ones. I think that opens up some time and space—mental space. They get an actual break from the preparation required of in-season training. Furthermore, not playing in a bowl game means that the players and their coaches s have a real break during the holiday season. They will be able to spend Christmas at home and with their families. I think there is real value in opening up that space for all involved in the program.

Good, bad or otherwise, the Bowl system is in no way what it once was. While I have heard positive reviews of the Pop Tarts bowl, what we once knew is long gone. As a fan, I don't enjoy games that are nearly five hours long due to extended TV timeouts. The ticket prices are not favorable and I'm just not interested in seeing a hybrid crew from the 2025 team playing an opponent that is also be remiss of many of their players, let alone coaches. 

In conclusion,  "Notre Dame's season came up one game short." Immediately following these words, the screen flashes to Marcus Freeman. Holding back tears he said, "It's tough now. There's not a lot of words to say when you lose a national championship. But what you all have done for this university is something special. We love you and we're gonna continue to fight."

I think much of that message applies to how the 2025 ended for Team 139. There aren't a lot of words. I am grateful for all they have done for Notre Dame. Running the table and winning out the last 10 games, all by 15 points or more was special. Coach Freeman—we, your fans, love you. Thank you for helping these young men and others to embody the Spirit of Notre Dame. And for what it's worth, I think we're still likable. Go Irish.

Photos
Bowl Games
ND Letter
HCMF

From Notre Dame Stadium to the Pew: The Power of Presence

This is not a blog post I’ve been eager to write. I try to use this space to share messages that are hopeful, uplifting, and meaningful. Sure, I have my gripes—but I usually keep those close to the vest... or the water cooler.

But there’s a question I feel compelled to raise, and I think you have an answer: Have you ever been to a game where a singular fan, compromised your entire experience? Have a group of fans ever detracted from your enjoyment of the game? Have you ever been subjected to rude, boorish, or selfish behavior by someone cheering for the same team as you—a fellow fan?

Sadly, I fear that too many of us can answer "yes." The purpose of this post however isn't to castigate fans in 2025. I don't want to play the "it never used to be this way" game—although that might be true. No, I hope that you will read and consider the power that you as a fan have and will use it for good.

My friend Steve gave me an early Christmas present: a pre-game field pass for the Notre Dame game at Stanford Stadium on Saturday, November 29. To stand behind just feet from the entire team—ranked 9th in the nation—and on their level is amazing. Although you might not have the vantage of those who are perched from above, the energy and excitement is palpable—it's electric. Just before kick-off, I walked approximately 20 rows up to my seat and joined my friend Charlie. He noted that our section had been standing since he arrived. A few minutes into the game, the crowd around us took their seats and cheered loudly. We stood up, we sat down. We exchanged high fives. The blue, gold and green drowned out the Cardinal red. Clearly, this is was not enemy territory. 

I stood next to DeShone Kizer on the field and didn't recognize him until it was too late.
I would have loved talking to him about "A Season with ND Football."

The young man sitting in front of us was an enthusiastic fan. He stood every single time the Irish had possession of the ball or when defense made a great play. However, the problem with this gesture is that in order to see the game, we had to stand as well. If we stood, those behind us would need to do the same. Think of this as a different type of wave, and an unnecessary one. 

Charlie politely tapped him on the shoulder and said "excuse me, but when you stand, we can't see. Do you mind sitting down?" This fan retorted, "I do. I'm not going to sit. I'm going to stand when I want to." I listened in disbelief. I thought to myself, "maybe he didn't understand what we were asking." I tapped him on the shoulder and said "I'm sorry, it's just that your view is unobstructed (there was no one sitting in front of him from an angled sight line). When others stand or if someone else is standing—go for it. But you're the only person who stands and that means we can't see the play. We're happy to switch seats with you if that helps."

I was calm and hoped our simple request made sense. He shook his head and said, "I'm not moving seats. And I'm not going to stay seated. I'm going to stand when I want. That's what I'm going to do."

I have never heard another fan speak with such defiance. I would have said, "I am so sorry. Of course. No problem." While that might be too accommodating, I know I would have listened and at the very least found some middle ground.

Charlie shook his head. He told me to let it go as we turned our head to watch the plays on the Jumbotron. 

I tapped this man on the shoulder once more. I don't know from where this came but I said "Please don't cheer for Notre Dame." He looked at me quizzically. I asked "Are you an alum? Are you a current student?" He shook his head, "no." I said "Well, I'm an alum and I would rather that you not cheer for the Irish. What you are doing does not resonate with the values of the University. Don't cheer for the Irish. Please don't." I sat down.

In the words of Thomas Magnum "I know what you're thinking" and you're right. This story doesn't end well. He dug his heels in. He became almost more defiant by standing more and sitting less. 

This fan soured my experience; I would be lying if I said I could shake it off.  I wish he wasn't cheering for ND. The whole thing was disappointing and disrespectful.Very unfortunate.

Marcus Freeman's first game as Head Coach, January 2022

It could have been different. I say that because I know it’s true—I’ve lived it. On September 18, my friend Bill and I joined my aunt, uncle, cousin, her husband, and their four kids for the Purdue game at Notre Dame Stadium. Sitting together in two rows, we made quite an impression on the people around us.

With under two minutes left in the second quarter, play stopped because of lightning. Rain followed. We waited under the overhang for nearly two hours, then returned to our seats for the second half. While a third of the crowd didn’t come back, I noticed those around me were actually talking about my family. A couple of men picked up on the fact that my Uncle Jay has an uncommon knowledge of the game. They noticed how he explained a few of the rulings on the field in great detail. One of them inquired about it only to learn that my Uncle Jay was a Pac 10/12 referee for 35 years. Whether in the classroom or on the field, my Uncle Jay has always been someone who instructs, informs, and helps others. That’s who he was as a teacher and principal, and who he was wearing the white hat.

I love watching games with my Uncle Jay. Yes, I'm an info hound—I do love to gain clarity and comprehension—but he is incredibly spirited, too. He is locked in when the clock is ticking and helping others when it stops. I grew up watching him on the field work games. In his retirement, I have only benefitted from his presence in the stands. I am proud to say that others have too.

But Jay wasn't the only force for good in this crowd. My Uncle Jay's daughter Jodi—my cousin and her husband CW have four children. These fifth through eighth graders, have been raised to cheer for the Irish. To their credit, they did so until the final whistle. They understood the play calls, cheered at all the right times, and were held up for push-ups after a touchdown. It was a long day, but their enthusiasm, attention, and youthful energy were fun to share. They made a great game even better. Young fans have power, too.

The question I raise for fans is one about presence. Whether we are at a sporting event, a movie, a concert or show we have the ability to make a positive presence on the places and spaces we inhabit—including sacred ones. Are you aware of this?

I attend 8:00 a.m. every Sunday at St. Vincent de Paul parish. Because of its early start time, most of the congregation is comprised of elderly people and families with very young children (they get up early as it is!). Of course all are welcome, and I know the spirit of hospitality is important—but it is not with a sense of "do whatever you want" or "everything is okay."

I believe that because of an experience I had recently. A mother and her teenage daughter sat next to me and talked at a low whisper throughout both readings and the Gospel. The only time they refrained from chatting was when they sang. 

I glanced over a few times—giving that teacher look I’ve mastered over 25 years. They noticed but kept at it. During the homily, I held my gaze a little longer. Still nothing. In hindsight, I should have removed myself rather than hope something would change.

ND Football Chaplain, Father Nate Wills, C.S.C. offers a prayerful presence on the sidelines. 

When their conversation continued through the consecration, I couldn’t stay silent. I leaned over and said, “Do you mind not talking? I’m trying to focus and pray.”

My request was met with utter disgust. Both mother and daughter looked at me as though I were committing an unthinkable offense, a stranger daring to disturb their world. 

I stood frozen in fear that I would be the reason this young woman would stop going to church in the future. Perhaps she would say "this woman in church asked me to stop talking. How rude." I was that woman. I am that woman. And sadly, I shouldn't be the one apologizing.

I offer this message in contrast to what a woman once said to my brother as they were leaving Mass. She tapped him on the shoulder and said "I just want to say thank you for helping me pray better." Mark said "thank you" and paused. She added "Your prayerful presence really helped me to be still and hear the Word." 

I love that she thought to say this to my brother. She named for him the giftedness and grace of a positive presence. No words or money required. Truly we have the power for good.

I won't tell you what I said to the girlfriend of the guy who continued to stand during the game, but I can assure you that in the future, I will be thanking fans who make the experience even better.

Photo Credits
Kizer and Freeman