“I’m not a big fan of playing football games in Ireland. I’d rather play them right here. It’s going to be a great trip for our alums and all those that follow us. It’s going to be great for Ireland and we’re pleased about that. But as it relates to the game of football, I’d rather not travel six hours to go play.”
-Thus Spake Kelly-
I certainly agree that it would be nice to play all of our games in our Stadium. But let’s be practical – after the first six back-to-back matches of an all home game season, the field would have the consistency of a gelatinous pudding that not even The Lord Himself could walk across, much less run the ball ten yards. Even our opponents might prefer to play in the near silent tranquility of the Stadium, where one need not strain to hear the constant shushing of the ushers.
As the rules of fairness go, we have to trade-off playing one game on our hallowed ground and one game in the Temples of Mammon across the country that serve as home fields for our opponents. Except the Navy. They get to pick any field they want when they host the Irish. Since they have plenty of shipping available to them at the fleet rate, they can even have a home game in a foreign country. Of course that means some extra travel time for our team, which is what Professor Kelly finds nettlesome.
I would caution him that it could be much, much worse.
London, England hasn’t been the most hospitable location for Catholics since roughly 1535, when anything resembling goalposts had priests’ heads stuck on them. Nor has it been the most welcoming to the Irish, aside from those willing to serve Milord as a leech collector or a gong farmer. Furthermore, I’ll not have my virtuous students exposed to the lewd Welsh royalty they have prancing about wearing nothing but carnal lust and wielding a snooker stick like a minor rustic fertility god.
Edinburgh, Scotland would be the one place in the world where our alumni would blend in quite naturally, what with their obsessive affection for any garment in tartan. Only at Notre Dame or in Scotland will you see an Italian man proudly wearing his clan’s plaid. But for a school that sweats bullets about starting a football game after sundown, would it really be a good idea to take our team and fans to the country that originated football hooliganism and has 98 operating Scotch distilleries?
Paris, France is the City of Light and the capital of my beloved homeland. However, they really do not like the USA after all the pillage and plunder wrought by American troops during the two world wars… wait, one of us must be terribly confused. Besides, as soon as the fierce Fighting Irish giants stepped off the plane in Paris, the French army would promptly surrender.
Brussels, Belgium No. There’s a famous statue of a lad urinating in public. We’ll have none of that.
Copenhagen, Denmark No. They have a beloved sculpture of a naked half-lady, half-fish – and just guess which voluptuous half is naked.
Amsterdam, Holland ABSOLTUTELY NOT! I know what goes on there, and so do you!
Madrid, Spain Spain? This is where the Plague started. And by that I mean the Jesuits.
Rome, Italy is Catholic headquarters and a natural fit for us. The Swiss Guard can march with the Irish Guard. The Pope can do the coin toss. We could even play the game in the true Coliseum… OK, maybe that’s not exactly where Catholics have such a great winning percentage.
My point is that Dublin, Ireland, may not be geographically ideal. But if the Navy is going to drag us all over God’s creation to play a game, Dublin is probably the best place on Earth. Six hours in transit is a bit of a burden, but no worse than what Professor Rockne and his team endured travelling by train across the continent to California – which was literally a foreign country when I set up shop in Indiana.
And then, of course, I was under the impression that the wonders of modern science had enabled us to play on a distant planet. After all, for years I’ve heard lads referring to Michigan as Uranus.
EFS CSC
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