Long ago it began, my conscious affinity and association with the Irish, people of the far isle,

The red curls and freckled face of my youth bespoke the Irish blood that pulsed through my veins,

Later, words that called out to me, stirred in me an ache, impoverished, soulful joy,

And so when dear Notre Dame comes to town to play The Cardinal, I shirk the red in favor of navy, gold, and green, and letters “ND” on my hat’s brow,

Somehow red curls long gone, short aand gray remain, covered in cap with ancient, mysterious affiliation,

Proclamation of the Irish within me, no accent, just consent, and content to be so,

Let it be so and hear me cry out,

GO IRISH!

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️🍀☘️☘️☘️