Sport: Luck of the Irish?

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What's wrong with Notre Dame?

Notre Dame's winning football tradition began in the '20's. As the glory years rolled on, the teams in the bright green jerseys acquired an air of invincibility. Football fans who had never been in Indiana, much less in South Bend, adopted the team and learned to cheer, cheer for old Notre Dame. In recent years the cheers were mingled with an occasional catcall, for Notre Dame was running into trouble. But even so, no one was prepared for this season's humiliation. Last week's 20-13 loss to Pittsburgh was the sixth in a row for Notre Dame—a record for ineptitude unmatched in the school's history. So what is wrong with Notre Dame?

The answer: plenty. And no one knows it better or more bitterly than Coach Joe Kuharich, 43, a massive, jug-eared man who weighs his words as though measuring out a prescription. As a boy growing up in South Bend, Kuharich used to be shepherded into practice by Notre Dame players and get an occasional greeting from Knute Rockne himself. From 1935 to 1937 Kuharich was a sturdy and aggressive guard on some of Notre Dame's solid teams (the three-year record: 19-5). Kuharich left Notre Dame with just one ambition: to return as head football coach. Kuharich got his wish after the 1958 season, when Notre Dame fired Terry Brennan on the charge that he had been a poor coach (his good record: 32-18). To return to Notre Dame, Kuharich willingly took a 50% pay cut from his job as head coach of pro football's Washington Redskins. Cross to Bear. Although he loyally denies the fact, Kuharich was shocked by the poor material he inherited from Brennan. Not only was the squad weak in natural ability, but it did not measure up to Kuharich's stiff standards in the fundamentals of tackling and blocking. Last year Kuharich barely managed a 5-5 record. This year, with only three seniors recruited by Brennan on the squad, Kuharich was hit by a numbing series of injuries, including the loss for the season of Halfback Red Mack, an All-America candidate. But teams of the past would have found new All-Americas chafing on the bench. The trouble with Notre Dame football is far more basic than sidelined stars. When newsmen visit him, Kuharich fiddles with a letter opener during the long, painful interviews and says: "Time changes many things."

One of the changes is the fact that far fewer Catholic high-school football stars automatically long to go to Notre Dame. Too many other schools with bright new reputations are making too many good offers. Rival recruiters score points by warning boys that Notre Dame's strait-laced supervision eliminates a carefree campus life; e.g., freshmen have a 10 p.m. curfew. After one mauling of Notre Dame this year, a Chicago priest cracked to a Protestant friend: "I didn't mind so much that the lad was kicking those extra points against Notre Dame, but I did mind his crossing himself before each one."