Cheer, Cheer for Old Notre Dame

Cheer, Cheer for Old Notre Dame

This past Saturday we went to the UNC-Notre Dame game. Although we weren't in the visitor's section, the stadium was peppered with Notre Dame fans and we happened to sit directly in front of a woman with unbridled enthusiasm for the Fighting Irish. Actually, that's not true. Our seats were a row down and a couple over from hers, but upon seeing our green shirts she informed the rest of the section, "These are my people!" and proceeded to displace those in blue until we were all sharing the same Irish air.

A couple minutes into the game an air raid siren went off and I found myself face down in gum and petrified nacho cheese. When the bombs didn't fall, I looked up and discovered the blast wasn't signaling World War III, it was Super Fan signaling Notre Dame's first possession of the ball: "Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Irish!" Okay, that wasn't really how she cheered. I left out about a katrillion o's. And just as many decibels. It was absurd. She continued her overly enthusiastic cheering throughout the first half, and only grew louder with each passing glare and flip of the bird.

I spent half time waiting in line first for the bathroom and then for peanut m & ms so I'm not sure what she did during halftime, but it must have involved a lozenge because she was right back at it when I took my seat for the second half kickoff. "Come on, where's my band?" she screamed at the start of the third quarter, expecting the Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture as is Notre Dame tradition. The band hadn't traveled. No matter, she channeled them for us. "Ba da na na na na da da da! Crash! ( I assume this was meant to be the cymbols)," and so on and so on. Tchaikovsky himself heard her from his grave.

As the situation grew bleaker, she grew louder. As Carolina drove the ball, she rallied:
"Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
eeeeeeeee........" The play clock ticked, the ball was snapped, the leaves turned, football season gave way to basketball season, students enrolled and matriculated, great civilizations rose and fell, and still she held that note. And then, finally, "fence!"

In the end the Irish lost but, bless her heart, it wasn't from lack of Super Fan trying. It's just hard to hear your quarterback when your eardrums have been shattered by a one woman band in Section 219.


From last year's debacle of a season: 0-3 and First Down

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