Trojan Horse

So, my cousin Tony and I are diehard USC Trojan Football fans. And I’m writing and keeping a watchful eye on the bus driver as he encounters the Midwest elements of wind, rain, and lightning on the road back to Chicago from South Bend through the middle of nowhere.

The noble Trojan horse, Traveler IX, didn’t make the trip to this year’s Indiana encounter with the Fighting Irish. If Traveler had attended, the proud steed would’ve just skulked back to the truck after watching Coach Lincoln Riley’s ill-conceived reverse receiver pass attempt into driving rain and oblivion. For your information, back in 1966 (yikes, my first year in college), Notre Dame beat USC 51-0 at the Coliseum. Traveler #1 quit at halftime; guess that’s an option at home games.

For me, my big brother Jay had me geared up in Cardinal & Gold when I was athletic enough to crawl and cry at the same time. For most of my first six years, we lived walking distance away from the University of Southern California campus. Twenty years later, I had my DDS degree from the USC School of Dentistry.

Tony’s dad, Herb, worked at USC. Herb could fix/engineer stuff on sight and was frequently frustrated while assisting/supporting Engineer PhDs. Tony has his dad’s engineering on sight DNA, and so does his son, Chris. In something of a Sicilian famiglia link, my Uncle Tony was our LA Blandino MacGyver problem solving equivalent, on home improvement/repair calls 365/24/7. For Tony and me, this was our third Notre Dame trip together; it turns out, this time we needed someone to engineer a USC run offense and defense.

But back to the Trojan horse and the Trojan horrors. In late elementary school, I started reading all the classics by way of Classics Illustrated comics (I didn’t mess with any of the kid stuff.) There were James Fenimore Cooper, Dickens, H.G. Wells, Mark Twain…and Homer. Yeah, I read The Iliad many times (later, even the hard cover version), hoping for a better outcome every time. I found it hard to believe the Trojans could lose to the Greeks at home. Much later, I’d fall into the same trap watching ESPN’s 30 for 30 “Trojan War.” I’ve seen “Trojan War” 4-5 times, always hoping not to see the Greeks from Texas invade my hometown Rose Bowl and post a “W” before mine and Cousin Tony’s very eyes. Ope, there goes reality… and 34 straight wins and three consecutive national championships.

But no regrets (I’m a liar), I never expected the ridiculous win streak. And for me to make five trips back to Notre Dame Stadium, are you serious?

Trip #1 to South Bend for diehards Tony and I started in 2001 with an LAX take off one-month post-9/11. And when our United flight touched down at Chicago’s O’Hare and then took off again, I thought “Here we go.” The pilot assured us everything was gonna be alright, just “a typical aborted landing.” Whaaat?

It was cool being on the beautiful campus and having the usher greet us eyeball-to-eyeball with “Welcome to Notre Dame Stadium.” My brother had passed away much too young at age 31 in 1968, but I knew he was watching and smiling. USC lost on that first Midwest trip, but there was a positive sliver to take away. The game turned on an unfortunate, adlibbed fake punt and I knew the punter (his effort described by ND commentator Pat Haden as having run like a boa constrictor that had just swallowed a pig.) When I saw said punter at a Pasadena Equinox spin class, I couldn’t wait to share my athletic spin superiority over a Division I football player, even at my semi-advanced age.

Today was my sixth trip back for the rivalry that began 99 years ago with an Irish train ride out to Los Angeles and the Coliseum. Cousin Tony had returned for the 2005 Bush Push classic. Today, I arrived at South Bend sporting a four-game win streak.

And dang it, after a sixteen-year absence, the Greeks (I mean the Irish) still had Touchdown Jesus (both arms raised) on their side and looking northward down upon the stadium by way of the 132-foot Word of Life mural on the Hesburgh Library.

USC’s Head Coach Lincoln Riley is no Pete Carroll (who was 8-1 versus Notre Dame); and he didn’t learn much from Carroll who was on the USC campus last year teaching a course titled “The Game of Life” at the USC Marshall School of Business. As I’m learning these days, fourth quarters of several kinds of games can be tricky.

Staying in Chicago from Thursday-Monday was awesome: Great food, beautiful architecture, and a stimulating blend of cultures. After spending a miserable afternoon/evening on a beautiful campus in the middle of nowhere and experiencing the agony of defeat and the agony of my soaking wet feet, I began reflecting on the parallel of the Coach Lincoln Riley experience and The Iliad; it helped ease the pain on the road through nowhere. Priam’s Trojans had Hector, but Carroll’s Trojans had Reggie, Lendale, and Matt. Riley is more of a Priam than a Carroll. And King Riley remains no match for the Irish, who ironically were such pushovers for the Lincolnesque Pete Carroll.

When the fourth quarter arrived, without the horse, the Trojan Horror became the predictable experience I’ve begun to see coming as consistently as a Lake Michigan sunset…this time, under my drenched poncho, saturated shoes, and fogged up glasses.

As we’re riding the bus (no seat belts, front row seat) back to Chicago through the wind, rain, the sticks, and disappointment, I’m thinking, “I bet No Kings Day on Michigan Avenue was awesome.”

And for Coach, not King Riley, please just keep on whispering to quarterbacks and leave it at that. Good idea to leave the horse back home, and even Tommy Trojan wouldn’t have called a reverse pass from a receiver in driving rain with a chance to regain the lead.

ARRRGGGHHH!!!

I mean, Fight on.