Summer Ode to Our Lady's University

It’s August at Notre Dame.

The most sacred of all stadiums soaks in the cosmic rays that feed its emerald green blades of grass. 

Its hallowed halls are empty.

The scoreboard stands aloft, unlit.

The Mural of Life peers through the steely gates that safeguard the silent tunnel.

Then, as if out of nowhere, to those true keepers of the faith who stop and listen closely alongside Rockne while he holds his all-knowing smirk forever cast in bronze, a faint whisper rises to an almost audible level. 

A new feeling floats through the air. 

Something different is soon to come. 

Soon, the shrill shriek of whistles mixed with the unmistakable cracking of helmets and pads will escape over the fortress walls of Labar. 

Soon, Kelly's Irish Brigade will earn their path to glory through blood and sweat, but never a tear, as they toil under the summer sun. 

Soon, as his exhausted troops lay snug in their beds, visions of slant routes and Hail Marys will dance through their heads. 

Soon, blue gray skies will settle in over the Golden Dome as the leaves begin to change color. 

Soon, the oldest band in the land will send volley cheers on high, and the greatest of all fight songs will bathe our campus with a spirit that, if bottled, could light up the universe. 

Soon, that barely perceptible presence will swell into a rising rumble and the echoes of our past glories will reawaken, slowly mounting until that day when the Fighting Irish once again begin to shake down the thunder from the sky that hangs over the Cathedral of College Football… 

Soon, the loyal sons of Notre Dame will rally. 

Soon, throngs of her fans will sing her glory and sound her fame. 

Soon, all will be right in the land of the Fighting Irish as we march onward to victory.