SCHERERVILLE, Ind,. — Let me take you back about 60 years or so. That’s when my indoctrination to Notre Dame football — and, yes, indoctrination is the proper description — began here in what was then a small town in the corner of Northwest Indiana.

I was born and raised here in Schererville as an Irish-Catholic kid — my middle name is Patrick — and went to grade school for eight years right up the street from my home at St. Michael School, a very very very Irish-Catholic parochial school. The two priests who taught a young kid how to be a Catholic back then — Father Shenk and Father Campion — were big Notre Dame fans. So were many of the nuns who educated me — and educated me well — for those eight years from 1963 to 1972.

They talked about Notre Dame football all the time. The Fighting Irish won mythical national championships — some more mythical than others — five times when I was in grade school. (More on the myths in a bit). And, of course, we also had to pray a lot for Notre Dame football. Every Friday during football, all of us kids marched across the street to our beautiful old church for mass, and we prayed for our family, for good things in the world, good health to all — and a Notre Dame football victory on Saturday.

Yes. Yes, we did. We prayed for Notre Dame victories, as all good Irish Catholic little boys — and girls — were supposed to in those olden days.

But never once on my bingo card back then — and oh yeah, there was bingo at St. Michael — was there even the wildest dream of Notre Dame playing Indiana in a massive college football game. That’s happening on Friday night in South Bend 65 miles to the east of us when the Fighting Irish take on the Indiana Hoosiers in the first game ever played in the 12-team College Football Playoff.

Indiana vs. Notre Dame. That’s something I could have never imagined 60 years ago. One is a football school — probably the most famous and historical of all college football programs in America, the bluest of bluebloods — and the other is not. Indiana has lost more major-college football games than any school in the country. This is unprecedented wild-dream stuff that no little kid back them — even a really smart sports kid like myself — could have ever fathomed.

(Full disclosure, I could have never imagined it six MONTHS ago either, but what we’ve learned in 2024 is that it is true that miracles do indeed happen.)

As a kid, I knew nothing about Indiana football because where I lived in what are basically Chicago suburbs, no one ever talked about Indiana football. There was only ONE college football game on TV every Saturday back in the 1960s and 1970s, and it was never Indiana. The Hoosiers’ last Big Ten championship was in 1967 — I was in fifth grade at St. Mike’s — and they were never once on national TV, even when they played Purdue at the end of the season for the conference crown and the trip to the Rose Bowl. All the talk at school was still about Notre Dame, which had won a national title, sort of, a year earlier and was 8-2 in ’67.

I never saw any Indiana highlights either. I grew up on Notre Dame highlights on Sunday mornings with Lindsey Nelson, where we saw most of the Irish game from the day before and we learned how to ”move forward to further action.”

Truth be told, the very first Indiana football game I ever saw was in the fall of 1976, when I was a freshman in Bloomington and watched it in person. (They lost to Nebraska 45-13). I had probably seen two dozen Notre Dame football games by then. And I was never once ”forced to pray” for an Indiana football victory.

I’ve told this story many times before, but I was in the third grade at St. Mike’s when I knew I wanted to be a sportswriter. I loved sports and loved to write, and that’s what I wanted to do. Even as a child, I read the Chicago Tribune sports pages back then, and back in those days, it was a great newspaper. (Times have changed.)

But when it came to their college football coverage, Notre Dame was basically their hometown team. They covered Notre Dame far more than they did in-state schools Illinois and Northwestern, and Indiana and Purdue were absolute afterthoughts, despite our proximity. So, yeah, I grew up reading about Notre Dame all the time. I had no choice. And our ”local” newspaper, the Hammond Times, was just as bad. Notre Dame was their No. 1, too. Purdue got some love — they’re much closer — but Indiana was all but ignored during football season.

Maybe it was part of learning to be a little jaded and cynical for my future profession, but I never really bought into the whole ”praying for victories” thing. I was a good Catholic kid back then and prayed for things that mattered. I got my picture taken with former Notre Dame coach Frank Leahy at one of our sports banquets, and a few Notre Dame players too, in other years. That was neat.

But praying for wins? I never really got that. Cynicism at an early age.

Unlike lots of my friends, I was never really a big Notre Dame fan. Maybe I was a little too sneering to buy into all that, and having it jammed down our throats all the time. Hell — oops, forgive me — in the early 1970s, Ohio State was my favorite football team because of Archie Griffin. (Yeah, forgive me again. I’ve grown out of that, too.)

As I got older, I always rooted AGAINST Notre Dame, and I had good reasons. Even when they were average, they were overrated and media darlings. I got sick of that. Even their good players were deemed great, and won awards they shouldn’t have. Outside of Joe Montana in the pros, I really didn’t root for Notre Dame players individually, either. I always joked with people that I was the only Irish Catholic from Northern Indiana who didn’t like Notre Dame football.

I’ve been at Notre Dame games in person as a writer a handful of times. I’ve been a fan in the stands for several more — and I was always rooting for the other side. I relished Notre Dame defeats, and one of my favorite days was in 1985, when the failed Gerry Faust era ended with a 58-7 loss to Miami.

I was there with my brother. We drove down from Clearwater to Miami, and loved every minute of the beatdown. I reveled in Notre Dame being 5-6 and irrelevant. I am not a Miami fan — I’m a Florida State guy as an adult — but it was a blast all the same to see those Notre Dame fans get trounced like rag dolls. In all those epic Miami-Notre Dame rivalry games, I still rooted for the ”Convicts” over the ”Catholics” every time. That wasn’t easy, because I hate Miami too, but there’s where my disdain level was with Notre Dame.

And then there was 1993. I was a fan in the stands for the epic November showdown between No. 1 Florida State and No. 2 Notre Dame. It was Bobby Bowden vs. Lou Holtz, and it was such a big game that ESPN’s ”College Gameday” pregame studio came to the Notre Dame campus to do its show love onsite for the very first time. That grand tradition started right there that day — and resumes again on Friday night on the ND campus.

Notre Dame won that day, but then they lost at home the very next week to a three-loss Boston College team. Notre Dame and FSU both finished 11-1 that year, but Florida State won the national title after beating No. 1 Nebraska in the Orange Bowl. I’ve had to argue that one with Notre Dame folks forever. I was right, of course. You don’t lose to a three-loss team. Head-to-head didn’t matter when you choked it all away a week later.

Notre Dame has won 11 national champions in football, but they also claim many more ”mythical” titles, including 1993 when they still call themselves the ”uncrowned champions.”

My last time in Notre Dame Stadium was in September of 2000. Bob Davie was the head coach then, in his fourth year of a bad run, at least by Notre Dame standards. I went up the South Bend to write a story for the Tampa Tribune on Notre Dame’s fall from national prominence, and this was the perfect backdrop. We all know how Nebraska fans travel, and a game at Notre Dame under the shadow of Touchdown Jesus was a bucket list item for thousands of Cornhusker fans.

They took over the stadium to watch their No. 1-ranked team. It was an invasion.

At kickoff, Notre Dame Stadium was literally a sea of red. There were more Nebraska fans in the stadium than Notre Dame fans. Nebraska won in overtime. Davie went 5-6 the following year and was fired. It was so strange seeing so much red in the stands. It’s happened since then, too. Georgia did a mini-takeover a few years ago in 2017, and Ohio State fans did the same in 2023. We’ll see plenty of Indiana red on Friday night, too.

Indiana and Notre Dame haven’t played since 1991 and the Fighting Irish are 23-5-1 overall in the series. You can’t really call it a rivalry, because there is so little pigskin connection between the two schools. The showdown Friday night is very rare, and it’s hard for many folks here in northern Indiana.

Lake County, where I grew up, just might be the home of the ”reversible jacket.” There are thousands of people who root for Notre Dame football in the fall and Indiana basketball in the winter. It was certainly a thing in the Bob Knight era from 1971-2000. All of these Notre Dame football fans across the state don’t care about Irish basketball one bit. Hence, the ”reversible jacket” jokes. Part-time Irish, part-time Hoosier.

I can freely take shots at Indiana alums who do the same thing. I know many IU grads who root for Notre Dame football in the fall INSTEAD of Indiana. They’ve have their reasons, of course. Indiana has lost more college football games than any program in the country, and they’ve only won two Big Ten titles in a century of football. There was never a lot to root for, or be excited about.

I was the same way, both as a student and then after graduation. When I moved to Florida in 1980, I didn’t really pay attention to Indiana football either. (Don’t ask me who I rooted for in the 1986 All-American Bowl in Birmingham, Ala. in the only meeting ever between Florida State and Indiana. I’ll plead the fifth.)

But Indiana fans finally had something to cheer for in 2024. Curt Cignetti arrived in Bloomington with arrogance and bravado that he could back up based on his own track record of winning wherever he’s been. (Google him.) Indiana went 11-1 this year, the most wins in school history, and played an exciting brand of football. Maybe Cignetti’s only mistake was not including Notre Dame in his rant on his first day on campus. That’s the night that he told an admiring Assembly Hall crowd that ”Purdue sucks, and Ohio State and Michigan do too.”

Notre Dame and Indiana both know that Purdue sucks. The Irish beat them 66-7 in September and Indiana beat them 66-0 on Nov. 30. It’s been two weeks now since this pairing was announced, and the state is abuzz for this matchup.

Notre Dame vs. Indiana, on the path to a national championship. Imagine that. I sure couldn’t, all those years ago.

This is going to be so cool, no pun intended. It’s Friday night under the lights. It’s going to be cold — somewhere in the 20s — and we may see some lake-effect snow. I’m totally fine with that. It’s Indiana at Christmas time, after all, and it can’t get much better than this. There will be red and green in the stands even, although I can’t for the life of me understand why Notre Dame chose to wear black jerseys for this game.

It is, without question, the biggest game in Indiana football history. It’s probably not even top-50 for Notre Dame, but it should still be an unforgettable night.

I’m driving over to South Bend from Schererville on Friday morning. And you know damn good and well that I’m going to stop by church first before I leave, and say a little prayer. It’s MY choice this time.