Words From The Warden

Lou Holtz, the legendary collegiate football coach, passed away last week at the age of 89. Born in Follansbee, West Virginia—just across the Ohio border—he spent his formative years in East Liverpool, Ohio. Lou's father worked as a bus driver, and his maternal grandparents immigrated from Ukraine, instilling in him a strong work ethic from an early age.

After graduating high school in 1954, Holtz earned a history degree from Kent State University and went on to complete a master’s degree at the University of Iowa, where he served as a graduate assistant football coach. Although he coached at several institutions, Holtz is best remembered for his time as the head coach of Notre Dame, a position he held from 1986 to 1996. It was during his tenure at Notre Dame that our paths crossed.

On September 10, 1994, I had the good fortune of officiating the football game between the visiting Michigan Wolverines and the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. Before the game, I was tasked with informing the Notre Dame Associate Athletic Director about a new NCAA rule: the home team had to enter the stadium first if the visiting team refused to do so. This was a break from Notre Dame tradition, as the Irish had entered after their opponents for over a century. The crowd erupted when Notre Dame came out of the tunnel first, but Coach Holtz was visibly upset about having to lead his team out ahead of the visitors. The situation was further complicated when NBC producers delayed the Wolverines in the tunnel for several minutes. Coach Holtz expressed his frustration to me, even slapping his wristwatch in protest.

During the game, I called a routine defensive holding foul on a Michigan player. As time expired, Michigan kicked a 42-yard field goal to win 26-24. Leaving the field, I heard the Michigan head coach, Gary Moeller, shouting, “I’m going to kick you’re a**!” He chased after me but didn’t catch me. Fear can be a powerful motivator.

Our officiating crew was assigned to the Notre Dame at Army game held at the Meadowlands during the fall of 1995. Notre Dame was favored by 36 points, but Coach Holtz was recovering from surgery and watched the game from the press box. Assistant coach Bob Davies was on the sideline, and I often found myself close enough to hear Holtz’s enthusiastic and motivating remarks through Davies’ headset.

The Black Knights mounted a late drive in the fourth quarter, scoring to narrow Notre Dame’s lead to 28-27. According to the 1995 rules, a tie was possible if Army kicked the extra point. However, after a timeout, the team and coaches decided to go for the win instead of settling for a tie. They attempted a flair pass to the right side, but failed to cross the goal line, and Notre Dame secured the victory.

In November 1996, I officiated as the Side Judge for the Notre Dame at Boston College game. Thirteen Boston College players had been suspended for gambling, and Coach Holtz was concerned that the Eagles might play inspired football despite their adversity. The game was intense and hard-fought. Late in the first half, the Irish had the ball deep in their own territory, and the tailback broke out along my side, giving Notre Dame a chance to score a go ahead touchdown. I was the covering official and ruled that the runner stepped out of bounds at the one-foot line as time expired. Coach Holtz streaked toward me, clearly not happy, but a priest on the sideline intervened, saying, “Lou, the ref was 100% correct. What do you want?” Holtz turned and headed into the locker room without another word. Notre Dame ultimately defeated Boston College 48-21.

Lou Holtz was renowned for his communication skills and ability to inspire others. During last week’s service, the reading from Romans 5:1-11 reminded me of him: “endurance produces character and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts.” I have found that meaningful messages often have a scriptural foundation. Coach Holtz was deeply committed to his Catholic faith, and my favorite lesson from him is: “Everybody needs four things to live for: something to do, someone to love, someone to believe in and something to hope for.”

Peace,
Henry Zaborniak, Senior Warden