My introduction to Notre Dame football came as I sat next to my dad to watch games and reruns every fall weekend. Growing up Irish Catholic in New Orleans, I dreamed of playing college football in South Bend.

When a former Irishman asked my high school coach to send my match movies to Notre Dame, I thought I was dead and gone to heaven. Shortly after, I received a letter from Coach Ara Parseghian. He wrote this letter with great rhetorical skill, making me feel grateful for his correspondence while suggesting that I find educational opportunities elsewhere. Apparently he had all the short, slow linemen he needed that year.

It turned out in my family’s best interest that I signed on to play for Tulane University, becoming the oldest of four brothers who would play for school within walking distance of our house. I don’t think our parents would have had the time or the money to go to the Notre Dame games with a family of eight boys and four girls.

I was Tulane’s left offensive tackle in a 1971 game at Notre Dame, where I had the pleasure of having my helmet snapped in half, thanks to an angry tall defensive end named Fred Swenson. A few years later, I helped outfit the Fighting Irish for the 1973 Sugar Bowl classic against Alabama.

After I graduated, I worked in the Tulane development office. I had the honor of meeting Ara and his assistant Tom Pagna at a coaching convention where I was selling a weight machine that a Tulane coach had developed.

One day, shortly before the 1973 Sugar Bowl which would be played at Tulane Stadium, I received a call from Pagna. He had heard through the vineyard that Tulane’s head coach had sent Bear Bryant of Alabama 60 pairs of specialty cleats designed for use on the artificial turf field. Tulane’s coach, Pagna told me, had assured her that cleats would also be available for Notre Dame, after the Green Wave returned from the Astro-Bluebonnet Bowl to Houston.

But Pagna, the always meticulous assistant, had checked the calendar and realized that Tulane would not be returning to New Orleans in time to deliver cleats to Notre Dame. It was his fate. I said I would do my best to help the Fighting Irish.

I found a desperate gear assistant who was a little upset that Tulane hadn’t taken him on the bowl trip. I said, “Clarence, I need every pair of crampons you have out there, and I need them fast.”

His response was, “Foley, you only have two feet; why do you need all these shoes

I explained the situation and he agreed that it was not fair to favor a team. I left with three large duffel bags containing 45 pairs of crampons. I met the Notre Dame buses under the stadium and suggested to Parseghian and Pagna that they give the cleats to faster qualified players: running backs and wide receivers, linebacks and defensive backs.

I also disclosed some inside information about the decided east-west tilt of the grain over the Tulane field. Like a mat or putting surface, wet turf becomes slippery in the direction the artificial blades bend, so if it was raining it would be essential to play against the tide.

Game time came on a damp night in New Orleans, and as I sat in the stands with my brother-in-law, Jimmy Holmes ’63, I told him about the pre-game shenanigans. Lo and behold, it started to rain. I said, “Now watch this; they’re going to run everything from west to east.

I don’t know if it was Notre Dame’s ‘baffle’ call, shoe craziness or the Fighting Irish resolve, but they beat Alabama 24-23 and won the national title.

Credit Parseghian and Pagna’s leather shoe diligence.

Rob Foley returned to Notre Dame Stadium last May to see his eighth daughter, Maddie Foley ’21, become the first of his children to graduate from college.