Tradition reigns at Old ND

Somewhere between being thrown in the air for push-up number 14 and push-up 21 after Notre Dame scored a touchdown to tie Pittsburgh at 21 Saturday, I came to a saddening realization.

Even with North Carolina's realistic shot at a bowl appearance and a seemingly improving football program, UNC can never become a football school because it lacks one crucial element - tradition.

While most Tar Heels support the team when times are good, they disappear when times are bad. The love of the squad that takes the gridiron is not ingrained in our souls.

The same cannot be said for the fans that pack Notre Dame Stadium to capacity on Saturdays in South Bend, Ind. Irish football pulsates through their veins.

I had only been on campus for 30 seconds when I was accosted by that tradition.

The Band of the Fighting Irish, followed by throngs of people, paraded down the sidewalk en route to the Friday night pep rally.

All I could do was jump out of the way and wait in awe for the pandemonium to march on. Kickoff was still more than 20 hours away, but the campus already was buzzing.

The game day festivities began well before the coin toss. We went to watch the Step Off. It's Notre Dame's version of the Old Well Walk - but people actually go.

Inside the golden dome - ND's renowned landmark - the trumpet section entertained a packed rotunda, a tradition that has been known to move some fans to tears.

But my friends didn't head out early just for my benefit. They watch all of this every weekend.

It didn't matter that the team is just 6-4, a bad year for a school that has garnered eight national titles in its history - the most of any NCAA school - but has not won one since 1988.

It did not matter that the team has shown a frustrating inconsistency all season.

It didn't matter that a large number of students have been calling for the firing of Coach Tyrone Willingham - sound familiar?

Once the game started, the sea of blue, gold and green did not let the recent disappointments stifle its enthusiasm. The students belted out a plethora of choreographed cheers, and with all the excitement, I couldn't help but join in on the Irish jig.

And even when Notre Dame fell 41-38 on a last-second Pittsburgh field goal, the dejected fans still did not leave the stands.

They stayed to salute their team for a hard-fought battle and showed unwavering support.

They stayed, some with glistening eyes, as the seniors raised their golden helmets in a final farewell to the home crowd.

They stayed to sing the alma mater that binds generations of Notre Dame alumni.

And even in the bitter loss, the students stayed to form "W's" with their hands in the traditional salute to the coach.

The priorities in South Bend have been, and forever will be, God, country and Notre Dame football - wins or losses, national titles or losing seasons.

But Chapel Hill always will be a basketball town. Even if Tar Heel fans come to love a winning team in Kenan Stadium, it's doubtful that they still will fill the seats if mediocrity returns.

A long tradition of fanfare and loyalty is what sells out games even when the team's performance doesn't.

And the roots for such tradition and loyalty simply don't exist in Tar Heel country, no matter how many games the football team might win. The Irish have sown them all in South Bend.

Contact Mary Duby at duby@unc.edu.