Lou Holtz
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
South Bend, Indiana
Well, what better way to sum up the weekend than to indulge in some name-dropping. I feel ridiculous doing this, chiefly because I've never been one to get star struck (except for when it comes to hockey players). This past weekend was the much-anticipated 2006 Notre Dame MBA Leadership Conference, an event that we've been putting together for the past year. The weekend was shaping up to be brutal: 12-hour days, lots of stress about the unfolding of the event, and making sure all the details work out as planned.
The conference began on Thursday, with a reception at the Eck center, punctuated by a performance by the Notre Dame Glee Club--as appropriate a kickoff as could have been planned.
Friday went off without a hitch. Our featured speaker, Bill Cook, demonstrated what one can accomplish if one lives a life of passion rather than one bound by duty alone. Seriously, the man's built a billion-dollar medical supplies empire and produced a Tony-award winning Broadway play, all the while using his abilities for the benefit of his home state of Indiana. (His involvement with the Monroe County Historical Society in particular was impressive).
But the weekend conference was just getting started. On Saturday morning, we were scheduled to have an early breakfast with legendary coach Lou Holtz. A. was giddy with anticipation, but I was honestly indifferent. You have to remember, I'm a latecomer to this lore and legend of Notre Dame football. Sure, I've developed my own impressions over these past two years, but it still hasn't percolated through me to the point of feeling reverential awe in this man's presence.
But then you listen to the man's words, and all indifference vanishes. He's not eloquent in the most traditional sense. He is a plainspoken, affable and benevolent old guy, and he exudes a serene confidence that you know comes from a life of great accomplishment. "Great games are when you win'em," he says simply, and everyone nods in agreement.
It's hard to tell if the man or the legend is what touched me that morning, because we're all susceptible to the intoxication of the myth. But the simple truth is that, no matter the credentials, an earnest devotion to a life of principle is something to be admired. And it's an example I'm already familiar with.
Well, what better way to sum up the weekend than to indulge in some name-dropping. I feel ridiculous doing this, chiefly because I've never been one to get star struck (except for when it comes to hockey players). This past weekend was the much-anticipated 2006 Notre Dame MBA Leadership Conference, an event that we've been putting together for the past year. The weekend was shaping up to be brutal: 12-hour days, lots of stress about the unfolding of the event, and making sure all the details work out as planned.
The conference began on Thursday, with a reception at the Eck center, punctuated by a performance by the Notre Dame Glee Club--as appropriate a kickoff as could have been planned.
Friday went off without a hitch. Our featured speaker, Bill Cook, demonstrated what one can accomplish if one lives a life of passion rather than one bound by duty alone. Seriously, the man's built a billion-dollar medical supplies empire and produced a Tony-award winning Broadway play, all the while using his abilities for the benefit of his home state of Indiana. (His involvement with the Monroe County Historical Society in particular was impressive).
But the weekend conference was just getting started. On Saturday morning, we were scheduled to have an early breakfast with legendary coach Lou Holtz. A. was giddy with anticipation, but I was honestly indifferent. You have to remember, I'm a latecomer to this lore and legend of Notre Dame football. Sure, I've developed my own impressions over these past two years, but it still hasn't percolated through me to the point of feeling reverential awe in this man's presence.But then you listen to the man's words, and all indifference vanishes. He's not eloquent in the most traditional sense. He is a plainspoken, affable and benevolent old guy, and he exudes a serene confidence that you know comes from a life of great accomplishment. "Great games are when you win'em," he says simply, and everyone nods in agreement.
It's hard to tell if the man or the legend is what touched me that morning, because we're all susceptible to the intoxication of the myth. But the simple truth is that, no matter the credentials, an earnest devotion to a life of principle is something to be admired. And it's an example I'm already familiar with.
posted by Nic at 11:33 PM
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