Former Leprechaun Collins Apologizes for Discontinued Campus Art Shirts w/ $1 Signed Books

Former Fightin' Irish Leprechaun Daniel Colt Collins, Founder of Surf City, USA based Lifestyle Brand "WiseFool" has issued an apology for the discontinuation of shirts featuring original campus photo art due to a misunderstanding with the University of Notre Dame.  His apology comes in the form of a new "Hail Mary" line of hoodies, crewnecks, and tees to benefit the Holy Cross Missions in Bangladesh through donations of 100% proceeds to the Bengal Bouts Boxing Program, as well as signed and personalized copies of his autobiography "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" for only $1.


Official explaination via www.getwisefool.com:

New Shirts & Discounted Books offered as apology to WiseFool fanbase.

Campus Photo Art Shirts Discontinued due to misunderstanding with University of Notre Dame. ND felt that original works of wearable art infringed upon their intellectual property. WiseFool disagreed, but offered up 100% of proceeds to charity anyways. Notre Dame refused.

WiseFool Founder Daniel Colt Collins designed the Hail Mary Series in response, paying homage to those moments when all you can do is Toss Up a Prayer. Sometimes that prayer gets caught.  Sometimes not.  Either way, we play on.

Keep the Wisely Foolish Spirit with you while you tailgate this fall. Feel good knowing 100% proceeds benefit Holy Cross Missions in Bangladesh, empowering the impoverished through donations to the Men's Boxing Program at Notre Dame. Get wise with a FREE signed & personalized copy of Collins' book "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" (published by Corby Books) with each of the first 42 shirts sold.

While you're at it, pick up one of the final 42 remaining copies of Collins' book for just $1.  In his "tell-all" autobiographical account, Collins shares the shocking details of his trials and tribulations while serving as his Alma Mater's foremost ambassador.  All books come signed & personalized by Collins.  Simply note your requested message at checkout.

Get Wise. 

Stay Foolish. 

www.GetWiseFool.com

Throwback Thursday: ND v. Stanford

Irish Creed throws it back to the days of yore

by giving you a sample from the behind-the-scenes book

Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun

This week's throwback comes from Chapter 5: Week 12, which recalls the Battle for the Legends Trophy between Notre Dame and Stanford in Palo Alto, CA:

Exclusive Excerpt from "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun"

...The cheerleaders and I boarded our chartered flight to San Francisco on Thanksgiving morning, arriving to the most gratifyingly extravagant feast I had ever laid eyes on.  Notre Dame really outdid itself with the unlimited helpings of turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and gravy of all kinds, Alaskan king crab legs, jumbo shrimp, lobster tails, and oceans of cranberry sauce they laid out on our tables.  We stacked plate upon plate until we could stack no more.  Then we spent the next two days digesting our meals while enjoying everything the beautiful City by the Bay had to offer.  The girls made me take photos of them stunting in front of the Golden Gate Bridge, on the notorious prison island of Alcatraz, and even while holding bowls of clam chowder at Fisherman's Wharf.  Finally relieved of my duties as they cameraman, I enjoyed returning to my usual emcee role at the pep rally put on by the Notre Dame Club of San Francisco.  The always-warm Northern California members of our Notre Dame Family welcomed us with open arms and mellow vibes that almost made me want to put a flower in my hair.

...Game day began when we snuck out of the hotel after our midnight curfew to cause mayhem on Stanford's campus.  We didn't mean any real harm, and we would certainly never do anything to deface such a beautiful place, but we did leave our mark by quoting The Little Rascals on every chalkboard we could find: 

Dear Stanford Nerds,

We hate your stinking guts.  You make us vomit.  You're the scum between our toes.

Love, Notre Dame

I had never seen a football field surrounded by palm trees before, but it made sense when I finally came across the most ridiculously absurd mascot of all time.  Stanford's Tree looked like a homemade prop from a high school musical, and he acted accordingly.  Too many alcohol-related offenses committed by inebriated Trees over the years forced Stanford to adopt a new rule requiring all mascots to pass a Breathalyzer test prior to entering their stadium.  Good thing I left my Jameson at home.  Double zeros gave me the green light to leave it all on the field one last time...

Throwback Thursday: BEAT PITT Edition

Irish Creed throws it back to the days of yore 

by giving you a sample from the behind-the-scenes book 

Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun

This week's throwback comes from Chapter 5: Week 10, which recalls the happenings surrounding Notre Dame's road trip to play #8 ranked Pitt in 2009:

UPDATE for fans attending ND v. Pitt in 2013:

  

Join us as we take over the streets of Steel City on Friday night (6 p.m. - 1 a.m.) at Mullaney's Harp & Fiddle (24th street).  We're hosting a Fightin' Irish Block Party, complete with drink specials, prizes, and fun for the whole family.  The ND Cheerleaders and Leprechaun will be in attendance, and I will be signing copies of "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" beginning at 6 p.m.  Hope to see you there!

Exclusive Excerpt from "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun"

...the Notre Dame Club of Pittsburgh impressed us with their professionally run pep rally at Station Square.  All we had to do was show up and look pretty.  They took care of the rest.  I met several families who appreciated my Rust Belt roots, and they generously shared some of Pittsburgh's finest delicacies with us. Their zesty Kielbasa pork sausage and salad topped with thick stacks of cheesy french-fries gave me the extra kick I needed to teach everyone the authentic Leprechaun jig.  As much as they loved their city, they obviously took just as much pride in representing Notre Dame.  After the rally, we kept their recommendations in mind as we hit the vibrant local restaurant scene...

...We enjoyed our sightseeing tour along the rivers and up the Duquesne Incline throughout the following afternoon.  Then we suited up and assembled in the hotel lobby with the Pittsburgh Bureau of Police officers who would escort us to the game.  They surrounded our bus with squad cars and motorcycles, literally stopping city traffic with their blaring sirens and flashing lights as we sped through a maze of bridges towards Heinz Field.  More excellent food and friendly faces awaited us at the Notre Dame Club of Pittsburgh pre-game pep rally outside Clark Bar & Grill, where we chanted and jigged in anticipation of our soon-to-come victory.

...

The Pitt student section lined both sides of the tunnel inside Heinz Field, which made for an interesting entrance as I led the charge through a heavy downpour of bottles, cans, food wrappers, and saliva.  The stadium itself looked imposing with black and yellow everywhere and two gargantuan Heinz Ketchup bottles that lit up bright red every time Pitt scored.  A giant video board added to their home-field advantage as well, but they could have gone without the irritating piped-in panther growl sound effects after every first down.

A small group of Pitt fans made a weak attempt at storming the field when the Panthers finally ran out the clock.  One of them swiped the Leprechaun hat right off my head as he ran by.  My football instincts kicked in and I caught up to him, taking him down right before he reached the tunnel.  With his face in the turf and my foot planted squarely on the middle of his back, I reached down to retrieve my now-misshapen Kelly green bowler.  When I looked up, I saw a family of Pitt fans staring at me with their mouths wide open in amazement.  I apologized for subjecting their kids to such violence, lifting my foot to let the perpetrator scamper away.  To my surprise, the father thanked me for subjecting his sons to such a fine example of a properly executed form tackle.  We all took a group photo together, and I congratulated them on their win.  

The only other bright spot of the game, besides finally getting to savor more than our fair share of Primanti Bros. sandwiches at halftime, came when we met a man who introduced himself as Johnny Lattner's cousin.  He told us that he wished he could accomplish as much as Johnny had for Notre Dame, but he tried to do all he could by volunteering in his community nonetheless.  I told him that I believed we were all called to contribute in our own way, and I thanked him for adding to our mission.  My words didn't sound especially profound when they lift my lips, but he reacted as if I had just bestowed some great seed of wisdom upon him.  He thanked the cheerleaders and me for making him feel included, and his response reminded me why I loved calling myself part of the Notre Dame Family.

Read the rest at www.LeprechaunBook.com

BEAT $C WEEK Part V: Curse of the Leprechaun

Every day this week, IRISH CREED will release excerpts from the"Beat SC" chapter in Daniel Colt Collins' new behind-the-scenes book "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" available now at www.LeprechaunBook.com

Curse of the Leprechaun:

2010:
It didn’t end. The more time that separated me from my previous life as the Leprechaun, the more I realized that it probably never would. Notre Dame had become part of my identity, as permanent as the logo inked into my arm. It followed me everywhere from back home in Buffalo all the way to the beautiful beaches of Southern California, where I spent my summer between graduation and law school. 

While in Trojan territory, I watched cheerfully as the NCAA punished our cheating rivals by erasing the loathsome “Bush Push” game from every record book. The righteous delivery of justice handed down to them called for a celebratory trip to Southern Cal, where I visited their soon-to-disappear seventh Heisman trophy. Before I left, I made sure to hide a small Irish charm somewhere near the statue of their mascot “Traveler the Trojan Horse.” Along with my miniature parting gift lay the dreaded Curse of the Leprechaun, set to bring misfortune to every Spoiled Child who passed by that spot for the rest of eternity. I couldn’t wait until we met again in November, when the fates would finally turn back in our favor.

2010:
Either my steadfast devotion to Notre Dame paid off, the curse I cast on Southern Cal worked, or both. Unfazed by the effigy of a Leprechaun hanging from a gnarly tree outside the Coliseum, I waved my “Kill So. Cal” Tricolour Irish flag with pride while watching my Fighting Irish steal back the Jeweled Shillelagh. As expected, a light drizzle and temperatures in the low sixties kept the fair weather Trojan fans from filling their own house. We took advantage by creating a student section of our own in a vast area of unoccupied seats. When my Dawg Harrison Smith sealed Southern Cal’s fate with an interception on the goal line during the closing seconds an army of security guards surrounded us to make sure we couldn’t rush the field. We didn’t care. Singing our fight song with full heart and voice until it echoed through the cavernous corridors of the Coliseum left us feeling perfectly content.

2012:
Despite our lack of style points, our winning ways continued until we found ourselves in a showdown against our Trojan rivals for a shot at the national championship. Southern Cal had started the season ranked #1 while we flew under the radar unranked. The Curse of the Leprechaun must have remained intact, because the tables had turned by the time we marched into the Coliseum as the top team in the nation to face our already-eliminated inferior opponents. Not even the most imaginative sports writers could have made this stuff up. My lucky seventh year as a student concluded with a 22-13 win when our intrepid running back Theo Riddick made a mockery of the Trojan defense. I brandished my “Kill So. Cal” Irish Tricolour flag blatantly for all to see as we filled those corridors with echoes of our fight song once again.

BEAT $C WEEK Part IV: The Beautiful Struggle

Every day this week, IRISH CREED will release excerpts from the"Beat SC" chapter in Daniel Colt Collins' new behind-the-scenes book "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" available now at www.LeprechaunBook.com

The Beautiful Struggle: 

Game day technically began with our “Call to Arms Drum Circle” at midnight on the steps of the Golden Dome. I showed up in my Adidas high tops, rolled up navy blue corduroys, a white shirt with the sleeves torn off, and bright green suspenders. The powers that be already deemed my Mohawk too scandalous to appear on national television during the game, so I made sure to enjoy my final hours before going bald. With my “Kill So. Cal” Irish Tricolour flag draped around my neck, I stood atop the pillar at the foot of the steps giving short but fierce wartime speeches through a bullhorn between drum cadences.

I had never seen so many fans at a midnight drum circle, so I turned it into a bonus pep-rally for all those diehards who didn’t want to let sleep interfere with “Beat SC Week.” At one point, our “Gooo Irish! Beeeat Trojans!” chant grew so loud that hundreds of students came running out of their nearby dorms to join the mob. The drumline showcased perfect timing, per usual, when they ignited their cymbals with eerie green flames just as I started into my speech about the “Green Jersey Game” of 1977. The early morning air may have felt cold to some, but I was almost certain I could tell the exact moment when chills overtook our fans once they finally submitted to the hype. 

...

Forcefully repeating Rocket’s “Go get it!” mantra at every pregame tailgate appearance I made, I finally lost my voice somewhere along the route of our Step-Off Parade. Then I had a “whoa” moment when I first saw the sea of green steadily streaming into our stadium before kickoff. Watching all those people respond to the passion I worked so hard to spread felt immensely empowering and humbling at the same time.

Crying became my favorite activity of the day. I couldn’t control it. I had packed way too much emotion into this one event. My tears watered a 100-yard stretch of grass while I ran down our field with the extra-large blue, gold, and green flag donated by the Notre Dame Alumni Association for this special occasion. The football players followed me through a human tunnel formed by members of our Monogram Club. As I sprinted past heroes like Mike Brown, Reggie Brooks, and Rocket Ismail I sobbed some more. Then my waterworks really let loose when both teams lined up for the opening kick. All that passion, all that hard work, all that hype, and all that belief came down to this. 

...

The Trojans torched us through the air. Matt Barkley connected on his first three passes and just like that we trailed 7-0. Everyone thought it, but I said it out loud: “Here we go again.” I hadn’t given up hope yet, but that miserable feeling of dread started to creep back into my mind. Then Charlie Weis made a gutsy fake field goal call that went for 30 yards, and I thought the football gods just might smile down on us for the first time in a long while. Robert Hughes punched it in from three yards out to tie the score, and the students sounded off with their new favorite cheer: “Huuughes!”

Though we looked outmatched athletically at almost every position, our defense refused to back down. I stood on the sideline screaming at the top of my lungs before every defensive snap, enticing the students to test the limits of their vocal chords every third down by waving my arms wildly. The Trojan defense entrenched itself while ours bent dangerously close to the endzone. Still, we wouldn’t break. It took a miracle, but we managed to remain within striking distance when the first half ended and we only trailed 13-7. I refused to leave the field during halftime. Instead, I ran furiously around the entire stadium to tell everyone how much we needed them to give us all they had left during the second half. I hoped at least a few of the fans watching me would see how much I cared. Maybe witnessing my passion would make some of them believe.

The Trojans scored again before anyone even knew the second half had started. Down 20-7, the faces around me started to reflect that doom and gloom attitude I hated more than anything. I tried to raise their spirits by keeping my chin up. Then Jimmy tossed a perfect deep ball to Golden, who came down with it despite tight double coverage by two of the most highly touted defensive backs in the nation. I made sure they both knew they couldn’t handle Golden by getting in their faces as they sat in the endzone after the touchdown. One of them looked up at me and said, “Scoreboard.” I responded with, “Don’t call it a comeback, ‘cause we’re only down six!” An official pulled me off the field before we got too dicey, yelling, “Get out of here! You’re not part of this game!” After pondering his words for a few minutes, I decided he was wrong. We were all part of this game. 

The score didn’t stay 20-14 for very long, but I still felt confident enough to tell Southern Cal’s stud tight end not to get too comfortable as they kicked an extra point to go up 27-14. The throat slashing gesture he directed towards me would’ve landed him a hefty fine in the NFL. I reminded him how slow he was by getting the hell out of his way in a flash. As fate would have it, that same tight end burned our secondary a few minutes later to make the score 34-14. He even took the time to seek me out and stare me down after crossing the goal line. It couldn’t end like this. Not after I worked so hard to make everyone believe. Not with my foot in my mouth. I asked Our Lady to bail me out just this one time. Then I prayed ten straight Hail Marys to atone for my trash talking sins.

Jimmy answered my prayers by willing us back into the game. He scrambled on his one good foot to make big play after big play as he literally wrenched the momentum away from his fellow Californians. A quick score preceded a strong defensive stand, and we found ourselves back within striking distance. Another perfect touchdown pass from Jimmy to Golden ended with that same safety falling onto his back once again. This time I restrained myself from entering the field of play in order to avoid the officials who had their eyes on me. I couldn’t have lived with myself after costing us the game with a penalty. It would have been the ultimate disgrace, worse than death for a Leprechaun. I bit my lip and clapped politely like everyone else.

Our defense gave us the ball back down 34-27 with two minutes to go. I looked around while Jimmy broke the huddle to start the final drive, taking it all in. Without warning I resumed my uncontrollable crying. I didn’t even know why or how it started, but I knew the powerful beauty of that moment would stay with me forever. The spirit of Notre Dame swallowed the whole scene, and it was a sight to behold. 

Everyone believed, but no one could breathe as we drove the ball down to their four yard line with just nine seconds left. It didn’t matter who anyone was rooting for, we all contributed to one giant collective hyperventilation. The ball hung in midair for a century before it glanced off Kyle Rudolph’s fingertips in the endzone on what looked like the last play of the game. Just an inch closer or a split second sooner and we would’ve had ourselves an overtime shootout for the ages. Video review put four seconds back on the clock, but another incomplete pass left us with double zeros. Then, like a reverse version of that nightmarish game back in 2005, the officials extended the game by one more second. It looked like destiny at first, but we fell one play short when the ball sailed wide on Jimmy’s last heave into the endzone. Smug smiles spread across the Southern Cal sideline.

My tears kept falling when I finally realized we just lost the one game I had put my entire heart into, but the anger and sadness I expected never came. Rather than hatred, love filled my field of vision. Everything seemed so immaculately bright as I looked up at my fellow students swaying arm in arm to our Alma Mater. I sent one final “Beat SC Week” letter that night:

Dear Notre Dame Family,

The recent realization that I will only serve as your Leprechaun for three more home games has me in a panic. Before I take my final steps on our hallowed field, I want to share the most important lesson I have taken away from my experience here at Notre Dame.

Rocket told us “some legendary stuff” would take place when our Fighting Irish took on Southern Cal. He was right. I came out of our tunnel ready to be all that I could be for Notre Dame, our student section came out in full force like a loyal green army, and our team came ready to play like true champions.

I shed quite a few tears while we fought back within yards of tying the game. They were not tears of sadness, but of joy as I stood in awe of that moment. When the game ended my tears continued, not out of disappointment, but due to pride. I had never felt more proud to be a student at Notre Dame than I was when I stood facing the student section with tears streaking down my face while we all sang our Alma Mater together. I felt the spirit of Notre Dame at that moment, and I hope you all get to feel that way about something at some point in your lives.

Soak it all in, enjoy it, and let yourselves get swept away by the spirit. We forget so often what it feels like to truly live in the moment. Notre Dame has taught me that doing so with love and gratitude in my heart will fuel me with an energy I never knew I could possess. When it is all finally over, I hope I will have shared that lesson with as many members of my Notre Dame Family as possible.

Love thee Notre Dame,
Your Fighting Irish Leprechaun

www.LeprechaunBook.com

BEAT $C WEEK Part III: Don't Flinch

Every day this week, IRISH CREED will release excerpts from the"Beat SC" chapter in Daniel Colt Collins' new behind-the-scenes book "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" available now at www.LeprechaunBook.com

Don't Flinch:

...
About 200 students started a slow-clap as the football team jogged from the practice field to the locker room after their last walk-through of the week on Thursday afternoon. That night found us back at work with a crew of loyal sons and daughters tagging every building, tree, bench, and sidewalk on campus with encouraging football-related messages written in chalk. We started at 11 p.m., hitting the high traffic areas in front of both dining halls, every major classroom building, and the Hesburgh Library. As a grand finale, we wrote “Kill Southern Cal Like A Champion Today” in big yellow block letters directly outside the entrance to the football facilities. Then we passed by the north gate of Notre Dame Stadium on our way home at 2 a.m. and I came up with an idea for one last legendary tag. The twelve-foot-tall letters spelling out “FALL OF TROY” in front of our tunnel looked flawless when we finally finished. We hoped the Trojans would appreciate the welcome gift we left them when their busses pulled up to that exact spot roughly ten hours later.

A searing hot dagger tore through my heart when I rode my bike past the cleaning crew scrubbing our artwork from the sidewalk outside Notre Dame Stadium on Friday morning. At least they left most of the tags we strategically planted in places where our football team could actually receive our message. We tried to take the setback in stride, hoping for the best. Little did we know our campaign would go worldwide when The LA Times and ESPN both mentioned our hype-building efforts. I could barely believe my eyes when SportsCenter featured video footage of the chalk scribbles I left on a sidewalk the night before. An editorial on ESPN.com even mentioned the handwritten messages that “covered the fabled South Bend campus.” The article went on to quote our football captain Sam Young talking about how much the hype affected his teammates. We knew we were on the right track when he said it definitely helped them believe.

...

The Band of the Fighting Irish performed our traditional game day songs while students from every dorm piled into the designated area set aside for them in front of the stage. I peered through the cracks in the wooden body of the giant horse, happy at what I saw. More students turned out to join our ranks than I had anticipated. They looked ready for battle as they moved into position under their various dorm flags like separate regiments of foot soldiers coming together to form one massive army. Most importantly, they all wore green.

When our band finished playing Charles got on the mic to tell everyone that he couldn’t find the Leprechaun so he would fill in until further notice. The last time anyone saw me, so he said, I was on a secret mission to steal Southern Cal’s signature silver sword from their mascot Tommy Trojan. A confused mutter sprang up from the crowd, so Charles gave the signal. The band kicked into our fight song and the cheerleaders pulled a large sheet aside to unveil our Trojan Horse. I waited for the chorus, popping out and standing on the monstrous horse’s back right when everyone sang, “…loyal sons are marching onward to victory!”

Unsheathing the shiny chrome sword I bought at the costume shop a few hours earlier, I held it high for all to see. Tommy Trojan had a habit of raising his sword in a particular manner to the beat of whatever noise his band belched forth ineptly. I mimicked his motion for a few notes, then I snapped the sword over my knee. The students rioted when I held the broken shards above my head. To top it all off, I pulled out the can of neon green spray-paint I picked up at the hardware store to tag the broad side of the plywood horse with the words “GO IRISH! BEAT SC!” While climbing on stage I heard a girl in the front row of the student section yell out, “What the hell is going on? Who is this guy? This is freaking awesome!”

“Notre Daaame!” My two-word signature phrase sounded much better when the majority of my fellow students answered back. I tossed my hat aside and struck a pose while they marveled at my freshly shaved Mohawk.

“It’s great to see all you students out here leadin’ the charge tonight! And look at all you fans, too! I see you got the memo about wearing green. You look fabulous. Sadly, the Trojans are about to invade our campus with their ugly ketchup and mustard uniforms. Let’s show ‘em what real school colors look like when they get here. Our football players will take care of the blue and 24-karat gold. We need all of you to keep on reppin’ the luck o’ the Irish with more of my favorite color. Can you do that?” They sounded like they could.

“When Southern Cal steps onto our field, a sea of green will be waiting for them. That’s when they’ll realize they aren’t just goin’ up against our football team… No… They’re goin’ up against an entire united front of the Fightin’ Irish Faithful!” The Fighting Irish Faithful let me know they liked their new nickname.

“When our boys in blue and gold get ready to take the field tomorrow we need to give them a heroes’ welcome with the classic ‘Here come the Irish!’ chant they used back in 1977. When the pregame clock hits nine minutes, the fellas will start us off… Wait a minute, where are my manners? Let’s have the ladies start us off with the echo chant. Ready for a practice run? Nine-oh-three, nine-oh-two, nine-oh-one, let’s hear it!” The echo effect worked perfectly just as our players arrived. Everything was falling into place. I felt like the Leprechaun King of the World.

...

With the mic back in my hand, I nervously introduced my favorite football player of all time: “I’m truly honored to welcome one of the most electrifying players to ever suit up in blue and gold. He used to make moves that left his opponents limping back across the field to go pick up their jockstraps after he raced his way into the endzone. He’s got the moves, and he really is as fast as his name implies… Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Rocket Ismail!”

Rocket took it to the next level with a deafening “WOOO! Let’s get it!” Over the course of the next four minutes he then proceeded to tear the house down. If our football players, students, and fans needed a spiritual revival, he gave them one they would never forget. Everyone in attendance turned to the person next to them on his command, saying, “Don’t flinch!” Then everyone turned to the person on the other side to say, “Go get it!” Rocket made it clear that he didn’t come to make us feel good. He only came to tell us the truth. Lucky for us, the truth would set us free. His advice: “Don’t just give lip service to it. Make it a part of your fiber. Make it a part of your heartbeat.” He told us that a challenge like the one we faced against Southern Cal required enough belief to surpass it. When he asked us if we believed we came closer to actually shaking down the thunder than I had ever heard before. Satisfied, he spiked his mic against the stage with one final, “Don’t flinch, and go get it!” Sergio Brown picked the mic up from where Rocket dropped it, repeating, “Let’s go get it! Let’s go get it!” while his whole team mobbed their emotional leader. Multiple stage dives followed, so I caught the crowd surfing wave over to my Dawgs where we linked arms for the Alma Mater. When I looked around at my Notre Dame Family swaying together as one I finally felt it. We believed.

www.LeprechaunBook.com

BEAT $C WEEK Part II: Hype Men

Every day this week, IRISH CREED will release excerpts from the"Beat SC" chapter in Daniel Colt Collins' new behind-the-scenes book "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" available now at www.LeprechaunBook.com

Hype Men:

...
When Monday morning came I got up at 6:30 a.m., rode my bike over to the computer lab, typed out “GO IRISH! KILL SOUTHERN CAL!” in size 72 font, printed out fifty copies, and taped them all to the walls outside DeBartolo Hall where I knew the football players usually congregated before their morning classes. I figured my efforts would start the week off right with some early hype. Unfortunately, when I returned at 8:30 a.m. for my first class only torn shreds of paper remained taped to the walls. The building managers must have taken their jobs a little too seriously that morning. Maybe one of them had a case of the Mondays. Frustrated, but not nearly ready to quit, I used the time I spent in class that day planning better ways to build more hype.

That afternoon I hosted a meeting of the minds with my two close friends Grant Schmidt and Aaron Hernandez, who happened to be the Student Body President and the Drum Major for the Band of the Fighting Irish. We came together to build a unified front, determined to use our leadership positions to make this a week our fellow students would never forget. The grassroots strategy we devised would hopefully empower the whole student body to take over our hype-building efforts by the end of the week. Rather than a packaged promotions plan coming down from upstairs, the end result would grow organically from the bottom up into something much more genuine. That way our entire Notre Dame Family would have no choice but to believe the hype.

Grant, Aaron, and I began “Beat SC Week” by coordinating a massive communications campaign, run mostly through social media and open letters to the student body. We would get the party started, then sit back to watch the hype spread from person to person until it covered our whole campus. Getting to work right away, we invited our fellow students to join us in conveying our collective belief through posters, signs, banners, and by any other means necessary. We only asked that they keep their anti-Trojan, pro-Irish propaganda classy. Finally, we scheduled several unofficial student-run events, including a “Southern Cal Meet-n-Greet” meant to “welcome” our opponents when they first arrived for their Friday walk-through practice. We also promised to add an extra kick to our Friday night pep-rally and our midnight drum circle, courtesy of our homemade Trojan Horse and some amateur pyrotechnics. 

...
As far as I was concerned, we were at war. In this battle of good versus evil, I wouldn’t surrender until I did all that I could to help the good guys come out on top. That night I sent the first of several wartime propaganda letters out to my entire Notre Dame Family:

Notre Dame,

This is our moment of truth. We must wake up the echoes. We must let everyone know we believe. All of us have a role to play in our upcoming battle against the Trojans of Southern Cal.

Students: Step up your efforts to create as much hype as possible. Post signs. Hang banners. Write on sidewalks. It’s midterm week. What better way to procrastinate? Do all that you can to energize your classmates. Don’t be afraid to let our football team know you believe. Share a friendly “Go Irish!” or better yet a “Kill Southern Cal!” with every football player you encounter.

Fans: Wear green to campus this weekend. Get loud at the rally on Friday, then come to the drum circle on the steps of the Golden Dome at midnight. Stand up and scream from the very first moment you enter Notre Dame Stadium until the final whistle when we rush onto the most sacred of all football fields. I’ll see you on the 50 yard line. Look for the guy dressed in green with pure triumphant joy written all over his face.

GO IRISH! KILL SOUTHERN CAL!
-Your Fightin’ Irish Leprechaun

www.LeprechaunBook.com

BEAT $C WEEK Part I: Believe the Hype

Every day this week, IRISH CREED will release excerpts from the "Beat SC" chapter in Daniel Colt Collins' new behind-the-scenes book "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" available now at www.LeprechaunBook.com

Believe the Hype:

...
Notre Dame versus Southern Cal, known as “the greatest intersectional rivalry in college football” since 1926, had looked nothing like a rivalry as of late. Not only had we lost seven straight times, but the infamous 2005 “Bush Push” game still haunted our collective nightmares. Our students rushed the field at the end of that game, thinking the #9 Fighting Irish had just upset the #1 Trojans, only to get turned away when the officials put one second back on the clock. Southern Cal’s running back Reggie Bush used that final second to steal the game from us in bizarre fashion. When I enrolled as a freshman the following year the upperclassmen still spoke about that harrowing day as if their wounds had never fully healed. With each mounting loss the misery returned. Our rival’s reign of terror over us wasn’t fun to live through, but we all held on to the small slice of hope that one day their dynasty would come to an end. 

...

With a long back-story leaving an insufferably sour taste in my mouth, I decided that my senior year would have to be the one when the Fighting Irish finally turned the tables on the Trojans. Coming off an emotional overtime win against Washington, the only team to beat Southern Cal so far that season, we knew we had a chance to pull off the upset. In fact, I felt confident we would. Once I got my hands on that Jeweled Shillelagh I planned on taking it with me everywhere I went. I just had to make sure everyone else at Notre Dame believed as much as I did.

Building hype became my sole purpose in life during the full duration of midterms week, which we renamed “Beat SC Week.” It had a better ring to it. As soon as we all started chanting “BEAT SC! BEAT SC!” after our overtime win against Washington, I decided to throw all my study materials out the window for the next few days. I told myself I would remember this week years later as a defining moment in my life, and my greatest accomplishment as the Notre Dame Leprechaun. In comparison, I would probably forget everything I needed to know for my exams by the following semester. Mark Twain once advised against letting school interfere with a good education. I intended to learn a whole lot about life by allowing one goal to consume mine for the next week. I wouldn’t rest until I stoked the smoldering flames of our faith in the Fighting Irish into widespread raging fires by the time our enemy arrived on campus.

www.LeprechaunBook.com

Throwback Thursday: Shamrock Series Edition

The Notre Dame Fighting Irish and the Arizona State Sun Devils will face off in the home of the Dallas Cowboys this Saturday for only the third meeting between these two programs (ND currently holds a 2-0 series advantage). This year’s ASU squad has certainly caught the attention of Fighting Irish fans everywhere after an impressive 62-41 win over Notre Dame’s rival USC, which led to the prompt firing of Trojans head coach Lane Kiffin. This weekend will take on an even higher level of significance off the football field, though, during the fifth annual installation of Notre Dame’s home away from home Shamrock Series. Fans traveling to North Texas for the game can check my complete weekend guide here.

Throwback Thursday excerpt from 

"Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" 

...As the only proud Texan on our cheerleading squad, the responsibility fell on Molly to teach us the lyrics of "Deep in the Heart of Texas." She instructed her drowsy students with impressive patience, and most of us had the words memorized by the time we reached Fort Sam Houston. While at the US Army base there, we had the honor of spending the afternoon with several severely injured soldiers and their families through the Wounded Warriors Project. A group of kids greeted us with green pompoms and a homemade poster that read, "GO IRISH! Welcome ND!" They watched with admiration as the cheerleaders performed their stunts, and they promised they would tune in to the rest of our games on T so they could point us out to their friends. I looked around at all the smiling faces, and that same feeling I got every time I swayed to the Alma Mater came back. We left feeling enormously humbled by the sacrifices those brave families had made for our freedom. Our bus fell silent as we all sat staring out the window, reflecting on the spirit we had just shared with some of America's finest heros.

...None of us could believe the number of people already packed into downtown San Antonio for our pep rally when we pulled up to the Alamo.  Fans dressed in Notre Dame gear stretched as far as the eye could see, leaving no street, sidewalk, park bench, or patch of grass uncovered.  We all paused to marvel at the beautiful backdrop provided by the famous Alamo facade directly behind us, contrasted against the charming city streets straight ahead.  Then we remembered we had a show to run.  We took the stage and right away I could sense something different about these fans.  They showcased their southwestern flair by clapping their hands, stomping their boots, hooting, and hollering along with us the whole time.  The rally started to feel lke a scene from an old Western film, and I half-expected several pistols to discharge celebratory shots into the air when we danced to our band's rendition of "Deep in the Heart of Texas."

Read the rest at www.LeprechaunBook.com

(all books come signed and personalized)

Throwback Thursday #5: Day in the Life of a Leprechaun

Irish Creed throws it back to the days of yore every Thursday 

by giving you a sample from my behind-the-scenes book 

Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun

Throwback #5 comes from Chapter 5: Week 5, in which I recall some of the superstitious "pregame" routine I had developed by our third home game:

UPDATE:  I'm signing copies of "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" at Martin's Supermarket (2081 South Bend Ave.) 10 a.m. - 3 p.m. on Friday, Sep. 27 and 8 a.m. - 11 a.m. on Saturday, Sep. 28.

By my third home game as the Gold Leprechaun, I picked up a pretty regular routine, fraught with superstition of course.  If the Fighting Irish won, I had to do everything in the exact same sequence leading up to the next game.  When my classes finished for the week on Thursday afternoon, I prepared for my weekly morale-boosting visit to Club Fever.  "College Night" meant skipping long lines and dancing on stage with the cheerleaders.  After shutting down "The Feve" around 3 a.m. I crashed back in Alumni Hall until noon on Friday when I walked to South Dining Hall for something deliciously greasy to soak up my hangover.  Once I got back to my room, I came up with my pep-rally introduction speeches while carefully crafting my chinstrap beard.  At some point, every Leprechaun developed his own specific style of facial hair.  I liked to keep mine thick enough to seem caricature-like, yet groomed well enough to look sharp.

...

Without fail, my Dawgs in the room next door would commence their "40s at 4" celebration right around the same time I finished getting dressed.  I loved stopping by their parties just as they got into full swing so I could surprise the weekly mix of students, parents, and alums as they enjoyed the finest malt liquor money could buy.  The looks on their faces were priceless, and they often thanked me for getting their weekend off to a lucky start...

Signed & Personalized Books Available Now:

www.LeprechaunBook.com

Throwback Thursday: Golden Swan-Dive Special Edition

Irish Creed throws it back to the days of yore every Thursday 

by giving you a sample from my behind-the-scenes book 

Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun

This week's throwback comes from Chapter 5, in which I recall my encounter with a certain foam phony named Sparty:

SPECIAL EDITION UPDATE:  I'm signing copies of "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" in the ND Bookstore from 3-5 p.m. on Friday, Sep. 20 and 9:30-11:30 a.m. on Saturday, Sep. 21 (ND v. MSU Game Day).  

You can also catch me at Mulligan's Bar & Grill (across from the Backer on South Bend Ave.) both nights with more signed books on tap, along with a raffle for my authentic game-worn Leprechaun hat!  I'll be wearing my limited edition "Air Golden" t-shirt, pictured above.

..."Nothing will ease my pain until we ruthlessly beat Sparty into submission next Saturday."  I couldn't remember who I said that to, or what publication it appeared in, but a long talk with my supervisors about political correctness followed shortly after my heartfelt public statement.
...
Every Leprechaun knew that Sparty had always been our only natural enemy.  The extra significance of our mascot rivalry made showing him up on local television that much sweeter.  When WNDU-TV invited us to co-anchor their pre-game sports segment early Saturday morning they must have forgotten that Sparty couldn't speak.  I ended up running the show all by myself, while Sparty literally disappeared in front of the green screen as he attempted in vain to act out the weather like some deranged version of charades.  The best part of my newscasting debut came backstage when I discovered that four separate Michigan State students actually shared their role as Sparty.  Apparently, none of them could handle the rigors of a full game day on their own.
...
... I reserved some of my energy during the Step-Off Parade just in case I happened to find myself in an altercation with my nemesis at some point during the game.  He surprisingly kept his distance throughout the entire pre-game warm-up, so I decided to be a good little Leprechaun and let him go.  Public shaming on the local news was good enough for me.
...
... Golden must have thought our band would catch him when he celebrated the go-ahead score with a swan dive.  Instead, he ended up crushing the scrawny kid holding a french horn in the middle of the Michigan State band while Sparty stood by motionless.  I prayed that play would end up as the winning touchdown so ESPN could eature it on their Top-10 as well as their Not-Top-10.

Signed & Personalized Books Available Now:

www.LeprechaunBook.com

Interview with Irish Turning Point

Irish Turning Point writer Emily O'Neill Elmer and former Fightin' Irish Leprechaun Daniel Colt Collins discuss the spirit of Notre Dame, the ND v. SC rivalry, this year's football team, and the brand new behind-the-scenes book "Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" available now at the campus bookstore and online at www.LeprechaunBook.com.

Read the full Interview here.

Follow Irish Turning Point on Twitter.

Throwback Thursday: Purdon't Edition

Irish Creed throws it back to the days of yore every Thursday 

by giving you a sample from Daniel Collins' behind-the-scenes book 

"Life as the Notre Dame Leprechaun" 

This week's throwback comes from Chapter 5, in which Collins recalls his encounters with several less-than-hospitable hosts in West Lafayette, IN:

... “Purdon’t” became the word of the day, and I repeated it frequently to pretty much every Purdue fan within earshot.  I didn’t expect it to instigate such an angry backlash, nor did I expect their fans to turn into such discourteous hosts.  To be honest, I wasn’t even convinced that Purdue football fans actually existed until I saw 59,000 of them wearing black t-shirts as part of their unsuccessful attempt to intimidate us with a stadium-wide “black out.”

... I could have heard a pin drop when I led our team out onto the field.  Ross-Ade Stadium was no Big House.  Their fans must have felt the need to compensate, because what they lacked in noise they sure made up for with downright disrespectful behavior.  Our poor sweet cheerleaders stood in total disbelief as disgruntled fans spit all over their backpacks, which they apparently placed much too close to the front row.  These were grown men sitting with their children right beside them.  The language spewing forth from their uncouth mouths was impolite at best.  I combated their coarseness in true Notre Dame fashion.  I killed them with kindness.  Smiles, waves, and kisses blown in their general direction worked wonders.  Whenever they said anything particularly nasty I ran up to give their kids high-fives.  Handing each of their sons and daughters little blue ribbons with “Go Irish! Beat Purdue!” printed in gold, I did my best to convert them before it was too late.  By the time both teams lined up for the opening kick most of their kids had already begun chanting, “Let’s go Irish!” along with our cheerleaders.

...

... The Purdue fans surrounding us didn’t look too happy, but we all wore gigantic grins as we swayed to our Alma Mater.  I was so happy to escape with a win that I almost didn’t hear a voice call out, “Hey, Leprechaun!  I’m an Irish girl!  Can I get a picture?”  I gave Erin Andrews my phone number so she could send me the photo we took together, but for some reason she never got back to me.    

Signed & Personalized Books Available Now:

www.LeprechaunBook.com