Penn State's back. Weird.
So's Notre Dame. Weirder.
Ten years ago, the two programs without logos on their helmets were national powerhouses, despite (or because of?) the fact that both were independents. Their coaches were two of the most colorful in the sport -- JoePa stalking his sideline behind the dark glasses, Lou Holtz hankered down on his, nervously ripping up the South Bend turf.
The teams' fans, too, were among the most identifiable in the nation, the number of shamrock knit caps equaled only by the sweatshirts adorned with the lion's head.
And if you attended St. Phillip the Apostle Church in Lancaster, you were divided into those two factions: Nittany Lion fan, or Fighting Irish fan. There was no middle ground, even for Fr. Michael Homola, a devout Notre Dame supporter who wasn't afraid to rub Lion defeats into the noses of his parishoners, even during the homily.
"God must be a Penn State fan," we'd say, "Why else would the sky be blue and white?"
"The Blessed Mother wore blue and gold," he'd fire back, eyes dancing.
The ribbing was enjoyable because both teams usually won just about every Saturday they didn't play each other. But as Robert Frost said, "Nothing gold can stay."
Not even the Golden Dome, apparently. The Irish fell first. Holtz left, Bob Davie replaced him, and the Irish, after a title in 1993, quietly but steadily dropped from the ranks of the elite. The fact that they played on national television nearly every week made it that much more painful for their fans.
Penn State's demise wasn't quite as gradual. In fact, it shocked just about everyone when lowly Toledo of the Mid-American Conference came into Happy Valley and, instead of being a doormat, spat on it, pulling out a 24-6 win. The loss was the most telling of a two-year period that would see the Lions drop 13 of 23 games.
Worst of all, the rivalry had been postponed. Since Rick Mirer's two-point conversion toss to Reggie Brooks in the final seconds gave Notre Dame a 17-16 win at Notre Dame Stadium in 1992, the teams haven't faced each other again, and won't do so until 2008.
But with Zack Mills leading the offense, Michael Haynes consuming a steady diet of quarterbacks and Paterno continuing to surprise his critics, Happy Valley is happy again. New Irish coach Tyrone Willingham's offense has scored just eight touchdowns in five games, but the defense and special teams are playing well enough to have Notre Dame at the top of five of seven BCS computer polls. Penn State is No. 15 in the latest AP poll. Notre Dame is No. 8. The last time both were ranked in the Top 20 was in 1999.
Despite my strong Catholic upbringing, I was never a Fighting Irish fan. In fact, they were always handy as a polar opposite to Penn State -- the glittering gold helmets vs. the plain white, the option (remember, we're talking early 90s here) vs. run-up-the-gut, the crafty Holtz vs. the conservative Paterno. When I caught a backyard pass, I was O.J. McDuffie. When I dropped one, I was Rocket Ismail.
But this season, while Notre Dame defensive backs are flying into the end zone, Father Homola, who retired four years ago after 54 years in the priesthood, is in his small home in Lancaster, watching and rooting from his couch. Colorectal cancer is slowly deteriorating his 79-year-old frame.
And as I pack the car for Ann Arbor this weekend, part of me is hoping the Nits can knock off Michigan and keep their BCS dreams alive. But another part of me can't help but silently cheer on the Irish, too.
Should the old rivals happen to meet in a bowl in January, a Penn State victory would be nice. But I wouldn't be too distraught over a Notre Dame win. Not this season, anyway.
