|my dad ... sometime in the '80's|
The most tragic thing that ever happened in our family as far as football is concerned is that in the year that the Bears actually won the Super Bowl, 1985, my dad was being prepped for surgery and missed the game! That was a cruel joke on him ... his beloved monsters of the midway in the big show, and he was down for the count.
Now Mr. Minogue across the street, he was the Notre Dame fan. He didn't work on Saturdays. And if he wasn't at the game in South Bend, you could hear screaming at the television from across the street as he watched his beloved Fighing Irish team. Oh how he would bellow! I imagine that he is a very happy man this weekend as his team prepares to play in the National Championship team against Alabama. I imagine him laying on the couch, eating his pretzels, and drinking Diet Rite Cola ... yelling at the game.
At Christmas, I was looking through an old box of pictures and found this one of my dad wearing a Notre Dame t-shirt. It is fitting that on this eve of the big game, I share it with you. Go Irish!
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