As I continue to sample all the ND sports, I run into some fun surprises, like the Notre Dame Invitational track and field event. Loftus had the air of a three-ring circus, minus the animals and any semblance of central heating but complete with amazing variety acts.
It’s not a business plan a banker would approve. “Essentially, right now as a company, the four of us are doing this for free,” says John Klein ’06 of the associates running Glass City Films.
My Notre Dame spectator experience has been teaching me a lot about being a fan. Recent lesson: You wanna be a hockey fan? Toughen up.
My walking partner is deathly afraid of dogs. If a dog is anywhere nearby, she’ll position herself so I am between her and the threat. What? Better that I be attacked than her?
No bikinis, no sunny skies, no sand. Already the Notre Dame volleyball team is at a disadvantage in terms of drawing spectators. But don’ t tell their fans that.
A spectator needs comfort as much as excitement, and I had a great plan for watching the ND rowing team compete against Tulsa. Arrive at Farmer’s Market before the racing start. Buy a sweet treat, then head for the bridge and cheer as the boats passed by.
As I sweated through their final home game, when the Irish women defeated Rutgers, one Notre Dame sports strategy was clear. The best way to draw spectators to non-revenue sports is to make the events family friendly — and cheap.
Watching a Cross Country meet can be confusing, as one small boy discovered after the start of the men’s gold race. “Mom,” he said, “where are they going?”
Join a champion-level spectator in sampling the less-heralded side of Notre Dame competitions: the rowing and the running, the putting and the spiking.
Football 101, the kick-off event of the Kelly Cares Foundation, promised an inside view of football, a quick course in the hows and the whys and the what-the-hell-is-a-tight-end type of questions the average but not overly schooled female fan might ask.
Notre Dame Magazine offers columnists, features and multimedia on the web.
A call for the music of Notre Dame.
After surviving a morning of teeth-rattling chills, I checked WebMD to see what illness my symptoms might indicate. I was expecting a list of flu, strep throat, bronchitis. Normal stuff. Instead, the first thing I saw was: Plague.
I lost my cell phone; the clothes I got my dad for Father’s Day didn’t fit him; and the Today show keeps running segments about not eating the foods I want to eat.
Time for some major league escapism.
My boss comes from a family of four — mother, father, sister, brother. Here are the first names of his family members: Fayrine, Beverly, Kenton, Kerry. Kenton is his sister. I think you see the problem.
World Cup play has begun, but some students from Notre Dame and Duke are already celebrating the good reviews of their soccer documentary Pelada. (A magazine summer issue sneak peek.)
Listen up all you Katelyns, Katlynns, Katlins, Kaitlyns, Caitlins, Caitlyns and even you Kaytlans. I give you about 25 years before you begin to call the parent who named you some not-so-nice names.
At the family gathering, I’d been quizzing my cousins about best choices in smartphones, laptops and other techno-gadgets. But from the grief-stricken look my cousin Bob gave me, you would’ve thought I’d announced I had cancer.
Creative work by Notre Dame people.
Deaths of Notre Dame alumni.
Like a macabre line-up of dominoes, one after another the giants of Notre Dame fell: Frederick Crosson, Ralph McInerny, Elizabeth Christman, Robert Burns.
Scott Mitsui, Notre Dame class of 1992, is upfront about what’s involved in making a movie trailer. “We cheat a lot,” he says.
When Alane Rivera speaks at elementary schools, she starts each presentation by asking the students what they think engineers do
Creative work by Notre Dame people.
Our stepdaughter, who is allergic to soy, is bringing her new boyfriend for the Christmas meal. He’s a vegetarian.
Before ND hired Brian Kelly, the campus played the guessing game.
Creative work from Notre Dame people.
The sign in the tavern, which abutted a motel, intrigued me so much that I stole it.
At a major league ballpark in Chicago, as I tried to move out of the way, security guards rushed to stop a fight that had erupted on the concrete apron behind me. One of the guards ran into me, knocking me hard to the ungiving floor.
Iron Man, Batman, Superman, Spider-Man, X-Men and, on the tough-as-acrylic nails side, Sarah O’Connor and Lt. Ripley: Action heroes supreme, and I love ’em all.