Revealed: The Spiritual Fruits Of Football Rosaries

I helped Notre Dame beat Stanford this year.  I know, you’re asking the obvious, “Well, where have you been since then?”  I’m sorry I didn’t help out against FSU, ASU or Northwestern, but I did against Stanford.

If you’re a Notre Dame fan, you remember the game.  Stanford took the lead in the fourth quarter, and with time running out, Notre Dame began a seemingly-impossible drive.  It came down to a last-ditch attempt:  fourth down and 11 from the 23-yard line; things looked bleak.  This is where I stepped in.  Well, being fair, this is where the Blessed Mother and I stepped in.  “Blessed Mother, I know it is only a football game, but if Notre Dame wins, I’ll pray a Rosary every day until the end of the year.”  Under pressure, with only :61 on the clock, the Notre Dame quarterback found a receiver in the end zone for the 17-14 win.

Okay, so I know my prayer probably didn’t really win the game.  What I do know is that God knew this was a great opportunity to get me to do something I should be doing daily anyway, so He gave me a gentle nudge through Notre Dame football.  Even now, with Notre Dame falling apart in the second half of the season, I’m still praying my daily Rosary, and many of my friends and family are the beneficiaries of those prayers. 

I know there are some of you (probably Alabama or Michigan fans) who find my prayer dubious.  I understand; I don’t blame you.  A chaplain for the Miami Hurricanes once stated, “God doesn’t’ care who wins a football game.”  Former Notre Dame coach Lou Holtz replied, “I don’t think God cares who wins, either … but His mother does.”  So, dubious or not, I’ll take my chances that the Blessed Mother and I are cheering for the same team on Saturdays.

Still, I think God motivated my request for a greater reason:  He wanted me to pray a daily Rosary, knowing that when I promise to do something, I do it (except for the time I promised my mother-in-law I’d be fluent in Spanish the next time I saw her:  Lo siento, mamá. Te lo prometo, estoy tratando lo mejor que puedo).   Yet every day, regardless of how tired, busy or distracted I am, I pray my Rosary.  In just the last month, I’ve prayed for the repose of souls dear to friends and family, I’ve remembered those who have shown me kindness, and those who have shown me the opposite; I’ve thanked, petitioned and interceded.  Every day, I’m praying.

And, I’ve noticed a difference in myself.  Oh, don’t get me wrong: I’m not about to make the televangelist pitch here telling you how everything is better and even my dog’s fleas have gone away (well, they have, but that’s because it is winter).  What I mean is that I find that daily form of prayer requires me to recall the life of my Savior, and as I contemplate His example, I tend to keep my life in perspective.  I’m sleeping better, and when things go wrong, I haven’t blown up or yelled at anyone.  The only thing that has changed is that each day, I pray my Rosary.

My dad was a “subway alumnus,” too.  He climbed from bed daily at 4:00 a.m. to pray a few Rosaries before attending Mass.  A couple Saturdays ago, as my wife and I went to Mass on Pop’s birthday, I was hit with the irony that, just like my dad, I was wearing my Notre Dame jacket at daily Mass and praying my Rosary for him, just like he’d done for me hundreds of times.  I am my father’s son, and God knew that I needed a come-from-behind victory to get my prayer on track.  In the end, it really wasn’t about one game; it was about so much more.

So, today’s Rosary is being prayed for those who read my column.  As a bonus, my Pop will be praying for you, too.  And he and I, along with the Blessed Mother, may include an intention for the USC game.  Hope you don’t mind.

Notre Dame Our Mother, Pray for Us.