Michigan 1986. I know we didn't win the game, but it was a sign that we were no longer anyone's doormats. We put notice out to the college football world.

Sc 1986. A trememdous win for the program against our top rival in a game which we were behind by quite a bit going into the final quarter.

I agree about the Michigan game in 1986. I was a senior. Having suffered through three years of Faust, there was an electricity and excitement and thrill in the stadium for that game that I will never forget. I remember jumping up and down, screaming my head off towards the end, amazed that we were hanging in there when, under Gerry, we so often had not. I was surrounded by my friends, all of whom were doing the same thing -- friends, by the way, that I have remained close to for twenty years now.

I remember Lou stepping off the sideline after ND scored at the end, swinging his leg to indicate that we were going to kick it and go for one PAT, not two. There was no hesitation, no vacillation. That small gesture told everyone that there was now someone in charge and that there would be no more gimmicks, no more inch-deep, Faustian, razzle dazzle. Notre Dame was going to play solid, tough, hard-hitting football again, kicking for one to tie the game up because Lou believed (even if the team didn't yet) that our defense was going to be able stop them and that we were going to get that damn ball back, march down that field, and win that damn football game.

And we almost did.

What a game. What a coach. What a rich awesome legacy is (or was) Notre Dame football.

When we were kids, ND really only came on over the radio. ND was, to me, that team that Dad listened to and that, if I was good, I could sit in the den with him and listen to. But we really followed UCLA.

The Bruins had moved from the Coliseum over to the Rose Bowl and we got season tickets. So I was first and foremost a UCLA fan. Except that when the Bruins were away and on TV, my Dad would mute the television and listen to the radio. Though I was young, I could tell that what I heard and what was on the screen were not the same. I'd ask what was going on and be shushed - "Notre Dame is on. Be quiet son, I have to hear this."

In 1988, the Irish defeated Miami. I didn't fully understand why that mattered, but it was clear that it did. In the intervening weeks, the Irish came to be on LA television more than ever before. And to cap the season, they defeated the "damn Trojans" that had been worshipped all season by the LA Times.

The next fall, I went to barely any UCLA games and instead focused on the Irish. Two years later, I applied to ND not thinking that I would get in. When I received my admission on December 22, 1991, I was shocked. But I still was not sure that I would go. After all, ND could not be that much better than the local schools, right?

Wrong. On Palm Sunday weekend 1992, my folks and I visited ND. I'll never forget the first time driving up ND Ave. and turning right - back before they shut down the road between the Stadium and ND Ave. Looking at the Dome nearly brought tears to my eyes. I think it did bring tears to my Dad's.

The details of the weekend are inconsequential. The talk at the Huddle at which my folks told me that, if I really wanted to go to ND, we'd make it work - that was monumental.

I've since had great ND games with my Dad - and some awful ones. But none as fun as the blowout of Stanford this past year. While the game was nothing special, the weekend was just the two of us, brought together by ND football.

Yes, ND football taught me life lessons. But it also created a bond between father and son. I treasure it for both reasons.

It would be a very long and personal story, ala "Field of Dreams" if I were to get into my relationship with my dad regarding Notre Dame football, or really just football in general. In all honesty, it's probably the main reason we still have a relationship to this day, as there was a long time when we didn't have much of one at all.

What I will say is this--Notre Dame football, for me, was epitomized in the 1986 season. That was a special team and a special season, despite the fact that the team was 5-6. The only game that was as exciting to me as the 1986 Sc game was the Niners-Giants playoff game last year. Simply breathtaking.

By 1987 and 1988, I just flat out expected Notre Dame to win. I expected them to beat Miami and WVU. But those expectations were borne from the 1986 season, and the team that needed to learn how to win.

Lou Holtz is the best, and we need another guy like him.