Junior Year Box Set

Coach Brian went up even more in my estimation when he showed us the facilities. Of course, there was the sales pitch. Notre Dame was the smallest university we had visited. There were only a little over 8,000 undergrads. Even so, they rated as one of the top universities to go to, academically. They only accept twenty-one percent of their applicants. Being smaller and a good place to get an education all appealed to me as a small-town boy. That it was a Catholic university didn’t bother me. Their football tradition and the games televised on NBC were also major plusses. Being seen nationwide each week had huge advantages for after football, especially if I decided to settle in the Chicagoland area. They had a rabid Notre Dame fan base.

From just the first hour on campus, I knew this was one of the handful of places I could see myself going to college. If I had to pick a top five, it would be Alabama, Michigan State, Notre Dame, Ohio State, and USC, in no particular order.

We next were taken to the practice locker room, and it looked like an NFL setup. We were given Notre Dame gear to wear and then we did our workouts. Those consisted of the typical measurement and skill demonstrations. My teammates were split up and met with their potential position coaches. I met with Coach Easton, offensive coordinator and quarterback coach.

“David, I’m a little surprised you made a visit. My guess is you want to play in the NFL someday, and we currently don’t have any quarterbacks on an active roster. We do have thirty-seven players at the next level, so you can see we have the talent,” Coach Easton said.

This was a refreshing approach. It wasn’t like Notre Dame didn’t have some famous graduates. Joe Theismann and Joe Montana were probably the most recognizable. In the last fifteen years, Brady Quinn and Jimmy Clausen had played for the Fighting Irish.

“Maybe I could change that,” I suggested.

“I’m sure you could. I just wanted to make sure you know all the facts and build some trust. I’ll tell it to you straight: if you are our number 1 recruiting target for next year’s class, we’d be willing to not recruit any other players at your position if you showed us strong interest,” Coach Easton said. “You would also be given a shot to play right away.”

Several red flags popped up. The first was I’d been taught to doubt anyone who told you they told the truth, or in this case ‘tell it to you straight,’ it was usually a precursor to a lie. His other statements almost made me laugh. I would bet there were twenty other number 1 targets on their list for next year. If he had just said quarterback, I might have bought it. Then he followed it up with two doozies. They wouldn’t recruit another quarterback, and I was to be given a chance to play. Everyone else wanted to redshirt me, and quarterback was too important a position not to have any others on hand. Then again, I might be getting jaded.

I did find out why we were separated from the rest of the recruits. They typically had twelve to fifteen recruits on a football weekend. They were hosting over fifty this weekend and felt they could talk to us before the game today, and the others later.

◊◊◊

Wolf, Ty, and I were offered scholarships. It was a surprise when Jim didn’t get one. Then again, many big Catholic boys played tackle. Tim was advised that they’d wait and see how his knee healed, and Jake was told no.

Our chaperone was Chad Kelly, a tight end from Mount Greenwood, a community on the south side of Chicago. Chad was the youngest of six from a good Irish-Catholic family. He was a freshman and had redshirted. You could tell from the outset that he’d been told to sell Wolf on playing for Notre Dame because he was instantly his newest best friend.

Tim and I hung back as Chad led us around campus to see the sights. Tim slowed me down so we were out of earshot of the others.

“I got a call from Brook,” he said.

“Why didn’t she call me?” I asked, letting my irritation through.

“Your cell phone’s turned off.”

“Sorry.”

“Bryan and Brock didn’t have dates for Homecoming. I guess the girls overheard them at lunch, and they made it clear it was only for the dance and nothing else. Brook said they keep calling to find out if you’re going to do to them what you did to Mike.”

“What about Brook’s date?” I asked.

“One of her cousins who goes to State.”

Now that he said it, I remembered seeing him at their family gathering. What I had learned was communication was what either made or destroyed a relationship. It would have been better if they’d told me what was going on beforehand. I wondered if it was all just a convenient story once they’d been caught. I quickly dismissed that for two reasons. The first was they hadn’t hidden it; they were with their dates at the dance. The second was if I no longer trusted them, it wouldn’t matter, I wouldn’t see them again.