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The Notre Dame crowd was in good voice and within minutes of the kickoff they had something to yell about.
Terry Brennan's sophomore line was hitting harder than anyone believed they could. Hornung was being Hornung and soon (it was reported later) he was telling his comrades in the huddle: "This team can be had."
Duffy Daugherty, the man in the business suit, began to undergo a transformation. He pulled out a pair of sun-glasses and put them on, the better to follow the play in the bright sunshine.
In a minute he turned and tossed his shillelagh to a player on the bench. With Bob Devaney, the ends coach, at his heels he moved with the play up and down the sidelines.
Hornung got in the clear and was stopped after a run. Duffy tore off the coat of his business suit and hurled it blindly toward the bench. He crouched with Devaney on the sidelines and suddenly jumped up and hurried to the telephone table and talked to Bill Yeoman and Sonny Grandelius high in the press box.
He fingered a half dozen substitutes and knelt with them, talking fast and watching the field at the same time. He jumped up and clawed his necktie away from his collar. He was up, he was down, he was here, he was there. He bore no resemblance to the storyteller of the night before. Now he was Duffy the tactician with a thousand stratagems racing through his mind like cards in a Univac machine.
For all of it, he was tied 7-7 at the half.
The Notre Dame crowd was going crazy. It looked like this might be the day everybody talked about, the day when they would win one for the Gipper and for Rock and for all the other shades of a great football tradition.
But, as one of his assistants confidently expected, Duffy thought of something. The Spartans came back in the second half to make it a runaway 47-14 victory. Just before the final whistle, Duffy called for his shillelagh, put on the coat of his business suit, straightened his tie and was ready at the end to walk out and meet his good friend, Terry Brennan, and walk off the field arm in arm with him.
Duffy stood against a concrete post in the dressing room a little later and faced a crowd of newspapermen. He munched the traditional apple.