This weekend, it was my job to be "embedded" into a Notre Dame tailgate to see how Penn State fans were treating them. There had been problems in the past with Ohio State fans and their band, so needless to say, we expected the worst. I mean, two exceptionally traditional football programs clashing in the "White House"... what wouldn't happen?

I was really apprehensive about this story. I didn't want to be seen with Notre Dame fans. I wanted to get some quotes and go. An all white shirt shows up really well when you're surrounded by Irish green and I didn't want to be exposed.

I set out to chat a little with some Notre Dame fans and I happened upon a tailgate right outside the stadium sporting a lot of green. Jackpot.

The first people I met at the tailgate were the husband and wife who had the tailgating spot - Mr. and Mrs. Witmer. The wife was decked out in all her Notre Dame apparel and the husband was wearing Penn State white. They explained their unusual, but endearing situation of clashing teams and then introduced their son, who "chose on his own" as his mother put it, to attend Notre Dame.

I met Mike, Jay Jay, Scott, Tara, Joe, Pat, and Michael. (They're not Irish or anything...) Pat and Michael are students at Notre Dame and didn't know the Witmers or their friends, but were welcomed to join after they impressed the tailgaters with their Irish flag capes. One flag was blessed by the current pope.

Mike walked around in a plaid fishing hat. Tara single-handedly beat out six guys in a flip cup game. Pat and I talked about Beaver Stadium and compared student tickets. Joe took a nice swig of Patron tequila, took off his aviators, and sat down for a breather on the back of his rental SUV, which was wrapped in masking tape to hold a Notre Dame flag. Classy. Five minutes later Joe joined the "flippie cup" game, but never actually got the chance to drink the beer, since the Penn State side of the table -- composed of my friends and three random guys in white paint -- was dominating.

When I told them my name was Erin Elizabeth, that was the end of it. I was a closet Notre Dame fan, they said. No one with an Irish name like that can hate Notre Dame. Those are the rules apparently. End of story. And who was I to argue? Didn't seem half bad to me.

Someone came by selling raffle tickets and Mike bought three and wrote my name on them all since, as he put it - "What do I want with a Paterno signed football?" So if I do win I'm supposed to send them a picture of me holding said ball with a thumbs up. Priceless.

Scott got out his cell phone to check the weather and when he predicted rain Mike got really excited.

"It'll be the largest wet t-shirt contest in the world!" he said.

Mike had been to Happy Valley before, for the Snowball I believe, and said with a finger wagging menacingly at the stadium, "This was the site of the coldest day of my life."

They were exceedingly generous and really class act people. I couldn't have happened upon a better tailgate - Penn State or not. They had me laughing till I cried, swapping stories with way too much information and arguing civilly about football.

I got a lot more than the few quotes I initially sought. I was invited to South Bend and took a picture on my phone to remember them all by. Considering that when I showed up writing things down on a small notepad, and they thought I was giving them a parking ticket, things ended wonderfully.

I left with Irish eyes smiling and an "I shamrock beer" button as a souvenir pinned to my belt loop. Perfection.

--Erin Prah