Column: Notre Dame, section 121, row 7, seat 2

There is a university in South Bend, Ind., where everything seems brighter, more promising and regal than the image of the world most people get elsewhere.

Its campus — home to a golden dome, majestic church and Touchdown Jesus — is filled with students, alums and fans who support their football team as religiously as their faith.

My brother, two friends and I went on this Saturday pilgrimage to see the football team. We intended to see an undefeated Fighting Irish football team we’ve supported since birth that has been in our family since our grandpa grew up and went to school there in the 1940s.

My siblings and I (my brother and a sister, who lives in L.A.) were raised right to the extent that we were taught to love this university and its football team with every fiber of our being. Having lived by this for 22 years, I can’t see any other way of doing things.

It’d be wrong to say we care about this university more than family, but it’s accurate that the school is a part of our family. It’s in the McNamee blood.

Not a day goes by that my brother and I don’t at least send a text to one another about the football team, its recruits, what a player tweeted, or something the coach said during his presser.

We’d been to the season opener last year — a game delayed for hours by thunderstorms — and a game years ago when we were kids. But this was the first time my brother and I were leading the trip to South Bend. And it turned out to be probably the greatest experience of my life.

All the pieces fell into place the whole day. The morning featured tailgate-made sausage, egg and cheese biscuits.

We walked onto campus and into an overwhelming atmosphere — one that isn’t a typical college feel whatsoever. The campus is its own world, the name of the university replacing the name of the town depending on what website you visit.

There, on gamedays, players dress in a suit and tie and go to the on-campus church that looks like it was taken right out of a European postcard. They say a prayer as a team before walking across campus, in the middle of a gallery of cheering fans, to the stadium.

My friend Darren commented at one point and added extra emphasis to the campus culture at the school (his brother, Kyle, was seeing the school for the first time): “People here go to church before games to pray for wins!” Of course, this was both sarcastic and realistic.

Finally, we got to the stadium and the game began. Our seats, in an endzone, faced the school library, which is masked by a mural of Jesus (known as Touchdown Jesus because of the position of his arms) peaking over the top of the stadium rim –—thought to be watching over God’s team.

The team’s gold helmets sparkle in the sunlight like nothing you’ve ever seen, the stadium always sells out (231 consecutive games), the crowd’s always a ruckus — led by the best student section in the country.

The game wasn’t easy on the heart (and definitely not the blowout we asked for), but it was a triple overtime victory against all odds. It turned out to be one of the best games I’ve ever seen.

My voice? Shot. My legs? Frozen. My hair? Standing up on end. My heart? Full.

This place is the University of Notre Dame.

Alex McNamee is a senior journalism major. He can be reached at 581-2812 or [email protected].