Catholics vs. Convicts: A Different Take
A new school year is on the horizon. Football is nearly back, and basketball season isn’t far behind. And like clockwork, in about nine and a half weeks, we’ll start hearing the same old complaints echo through the stands, message boards, and postgame parking lot conversations:
“It’s not fair having Catholic and private schools in the same playoffs.”
“Public schools can’t recruit like them.”
We’ve heard it a thousand times. But maybe it’s time we stop asking whether they have an advantage — and start asking if the advantages cut both ways.
A Trailer Park Memory
In the summer of 1988, I lived in a trailer park with my mother and older brother. Back then, trailer parks were swarming with kids. Not all of them were friendly.
There was a game we didn’t choose to play — we were chosen for it. It was called Down Pilot, and it was designed for bullies to flex power under the disguise of “play.” The goal? Get the opposing player’s secret code word. Violence encouraged.
That day still plays like a movie in my mind. I was chased back to my trailer, tackled by two brothers before I could get through the front door. One held me down while the other flicked a lighter close enough to burn my skin. I bit one and broke free — only to be cracked in the head with a baseball bat. That’s when I gave up my code word.
When I finally got inside, I cried harder than I ever had in my life.
The next morning, my brother had a plan. We grabbed rocks from a nearby field and stood across the street from their trailer, ready for home run derby — but our “field” was their windows. It didn’t take long before a line drive smashed through the glass.
Not long after, their mother stormed over, furious. She yelled at my mom about the broken window and the danger her boys were in.
Then she said something I’ll never forget:
“What your boys need most is God in their lives. There’s a beautiful Catholic church uptown with a cross on the roof. That’ll fix them.”
My mom? She told her to pound sand and get off our property.
Not About Religion — But Realism
This isn’t a rant against organized religion or private schools. It’s not about bitterness. I’ve played against Catholic and private schools. I’ve coached against them. I’ve seen all sides.
And no — not every private school is sitting on money or running a secret recruiting machine. I respect the small ones grinding to compete.
But what drives me nuts is the pedestal we put some of these schools and programs on — especially the bigger Catholic institutions. The assumption that a religious affiliation somehow makes the players more disciplined, more honorable, or just “better kids” is infuriating when, frankly, some of the most arrogant, hypocritical athletes and coaches I’ve dealt with came out of those very programs.
They act like they’ve got wings on their backs, while public school kids are treated like they're coming from the mud.
Don't Change the Playoff Format — Change the Mindset
Unlike some coaches, I don’t want separate playoff brackets for private schools. Let them recruit. Let their coaches carry themselves like they’re leading saints. Let their rosters be filled with transfers, legacies, and kids whose parents wrote checks or pulled strings.
Let them be the Goliaths.
Because sometimes what Goliath needs is a rock to the head.
We don’t need to complain about the unfairness. We need to use it. Turn it into fuel. Rage for locker room talk. Motivation to out-hustle, out-play, and out-heart the schools that think they’ve already won on paper.
Rewriting the "Catholics vs. Convicts" Narrative
Back in 1988, Notre Dame and Miami faced off in a game for the ages. Both teams were undefeated. The media dubbed it Catholics vs. Convicts — a phrase coined by two Notre Dame students.
On the surface, it was a clash of values: Notre Dame’s clean-cut image vs. Miami’s brash, controversial swagger.
But let’s be honest.
That t-shirt wasn’t clever. It was condescending. It was classist. It was racist. It was written by kids who saw themselves as better — not just in football, but in life. Because they went to a Catholic school. Because they looked a certain way. Because they didn’t come from trailers.
Miami may have been flawed, but they represented something: the struggle, the hustle, the middle and lower class of America fighting for space on the field — and in the world.
Final Thought
So as this new season begins and the familiar complaints rise up again, maybe we stop asking, “Is it fair?” and instead ask:
“How do we beat them anyway?”
Because beating them — really beating them — is how you change the story.
Let the Goliaths keep recruiting. Let them keep preaching perfection. We’ll take the underdogs with scars, chips on their shoulders, and something real to fight for.
And when the scoreboard tells the truth — maybe then, some of the halos will slip.
No comments:
Post a Comment