Blue-Gold game features less football, more fun
By TIM CASEY
Senior Staff Writer
We met, for the first time, by accident, about a half-hour prior to last year's Blue-Gold game.
While waiting for an elevator that would stop at the third floor of the Stadium press box, I spoke with another writer.
"Not exactly the way I want to spend my Saturday afternoon," the scribe said.
Poor guy. What a tough gig. Receiving free admission to the nation's most famous college football shrine, watching the Irish scrimmage, eating free (albeit less than gourmet-quality, probably less than White Castle-quality) food, sitting in a relatively comfortable, unobstructed 40-yard line seat, and typing a 1,000 word recap sure sounds like an awful experience.
You hear this all the time. Sportswriters complain more than Frank Costanza.
Politicians lie. Salesmen bulls***. Sportswriters whine.
It's part of the job, I guess.
And this weekend's game brings out the worst in us.
Why? Because it's a glorified publicity stunt, a tradition that has little significance for next season. Because of injuries, the format will feature one offensive squad against one defensive team for the entire afternoon. Not one of the spectators will understand the complex scoring system. Someone, perhaps Vince McMahon or Jesse "Don't Call Me the Body Anymore" Ventura, has devised a plan where even the defenders receive "points." Advice: Trust that the coaches won't cheat and frequently check the scoreboard.
Also, the game plan will consist of roughly 8 percent of the team's full playbook. (Maybe the Irish are scared that Nebraska coaches will rent out one of those planes, attach a `Suckers!!' sign to its body, fly over the Stadium, and steal "secrets"?)
In last year's Blue-Gold game, quarterback Arnaz Battle, who had started only once in his career, said the entire offensive package had eight inside runs, five drop back passes and six play action passes. Pop Warner teams utilize a more detailed scheme.
Even the head coach downplayed the 2000 tilt.
"I don't know how much we can determine from the outcome of the game, if anything," Bob Davie said after last year's game. "But it was a good day."
Guaranteed Davie will repeat the same sentence on Saturday.
But he has a point.
It will be a good day. It certainly won't be one of the most memorable of games, but a game nonetheless.
The sports media forgets that a lot of the times. These are games. Games are supposed to be fun. Yet several others will agree with aforementioned writer's assertion.
I admit it's not the best assignment of the year. But let's put some context in here.
If your biggest complaint revolves around attending a meaningless Notre Dame scrimmage, then I'm thinking you're not living the hard knock life.
Roughly 20,000 fans will be in Rockne's House on Saturday. Every single one of them paid an entrance fee. (I know the student tickets are free. But I also know four years of tuition should qualify as having shelled out some cash.)
Some fans even paid $50 per ticket to sit in the press box.
And guess what? No one will bicker, before the game, that he or she "must" go to the scrimmage.
For those who still have a problem, one simple suggestion.
After the scrimmage, the players and coaches stay on the field, autograph merchandise, and interact with fans. Instead of stressing over an impending deadline, look around. Watch as sons and daughters, mothers and sons, journey from player to player, hunting down signatures as if they were keys to a new Ferrari. It's safe to say 97 percent will feel privileged to be on the same grass where the likes of Hart, Hornung and Huarte starred on so many memorable Saturday afternoons.
Maybe then you can appreciate your "job."
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Sports Stories for Friday, April 27, 2001
