The Fighting Irish: Was the NIU Loss Necessary?

No, the NIU Loss Was Not Necessary by Claire Early

“A king is history’s slave,” wrote Leo Tolstoy in “War and Peace.”

Or a Russian version of that, at least. In his novel, Tolstoy undercuts the notion that a great man, or really any individual man, has control over the outcome of major events. Instead, the aggregate wills and forces of history control historical actors. Following the loss to Northern Illinois University (NIU), I opined about the nature of the head coach — is he, like a Tolstoyan general, the pawn of millions of tiny external forces? A friend laughed at my reverie and replied: “Is Marcus Freeman history’s slave?”

Consider the number of variables at play on a football field at any given moment. You have multiple coaches strategizing and calling plays from the sidelines, the split-second decisions the players make, their physical ability to carry out said decisions, the energy of the crowd (which itself is made up of thousands of supposedly free-thinking individuals making the choice to cheer), etc. These infinitesimally small units of action and will, invisible to the naked eye, coalesce to determine the outcome. To attribute victory or defeat to any single actor or variable would be absurd. No one has that much control. Thus, no one, not Marcus Freeman, not Riley Leonard, is responsible for our loss to NIU. Nor is NIU the cause of our later victories.

Humans love causality — sports fans more than most. But assigning causality to so complex a dance of will as football is folly. Each game was won because millions of things happened in our favor, not because of any one person or prior event. The team’s loss to NIU no more caused their later success than Napoleon having a cold caused his Pyrrhic victory at the Battle of Borodino. Notre Dame made it to the championship because that was the will of history — not Northern Illinois.

Yes, the NIU Loss Was Necessary by Kaitlyn Boston

AND THE CROWD GOES … silent. The stadium was left stunned as the unimaginable unfolded before us. A loss to Northern Illinois University (NIU), who hadn’t seen a ranking since 2013. On the surface, the loss was a disaster, a blemish on our otherwise flawless record and a blow to the confidence of fans.

But you see, it wasn’t just about the scoreboard. It was about something far more profound — the unspoken bond that formed in the aftermath. The energy of that defeat was palpable, but so was the community it created. In the wake of that shock, something incredible happened: strangers became instant companions, united by the collective disbelief. It was that same feeling of leaving the exam room where 5% of the practice questions showed up. Where you would find yourself complaining to people you didn’t even know took the class. That was the feeling we all carried out of that stadium — an absurd mix of frustration, disbelief and, yes, camaraderie. No victory could have sparked such a visceral, campus-wide connection.

By Monday, the entire campus was grieving. We were all in the same boat, each of us understanding the exact weight of what had just happened — together. Weeks later, my friends and I took a day trip to Chicago. While indulging in fried chicken at Cane’s, there, in the corner of the restaurant, lurking in the shadows, was the scariest thing of all: the NIU Huskies mascot. It was a perfect reminder of how that disappointing loss had turned into an unexpected source of connection. We couldn’t help but laugh, to reminisce about the intensity of the moment and the grief we’d all experienced, all thanks to that one gut-wrenching game.

Was the loss painful? Absolutely. But was it, in the end,necessary? Without a doubt. In a way, it was the true definition of a team, not just on the field, but across the entire Notre Dame community. The connection we shared that day is something we’ll
carry with us forever — something no win could ever replicate.