Memories of dad

I've been in the Superdome for 90 minutes now and didn't think too much of it, but when the Notre Dame band struck up "Wake Up the Echoes" it took me by surprise.
My father, who passed away two years ago, played in the band at Notre Dame. "60 minutes of every game, plus the half time show" as he used to say. This is actually my first Notre Dame game since his death.
As most people know, football is a way of life for the Golden Domers. My father was no exception. He went to Notre Dame in the 1940s. They lost TWO, that's right TWO games during his tenure. I believe they won three national championships while he was there (may have been two).
His roommate was Johnny Lujack, the legendary quarterback. One of the funniest stories my father used to tell about Lujack was when he won the Heisman Trophy.
It wasn't as big a deal back then, obviously. He told the story of Lujack learning he had won the award and then asking, "Well, do they send it to you?"
Things operate a little differently now, don't they.
Anyone who has lost someone very close can understand what just happened to me. Even more than two years later, the death of my father strikes me very hard at the weirdest moments.
The last two things I talked to my father about was Notre Dame football and golf -- his two passions. I know he's got the best seat in the house for this one.
I know he'd say two simple words for me if I could talk to him right now.
GO IRISH!
Miss ya Pops.