The specialists drag the defensive line’s popup bags under the crossbar hanging above the south end zone of Notre Dame’s indoor practice facility. One bag aligns parallel with one upright, the other bag rests parallel to the other. It’s a game week Friday, which means Notre Dame’s unit strength games, a ritual to blow off steam before the team’s walk-through.
While the other positions do their own thing, Notre Dame’s kickers, punters and long snappers stage a penalty shootout. The crossbar and bags form the goal, roughly the same size as what’s set up in Alumni Stadium next door, where the men’s soccer program advanced to the College Cup last weekend by ousting Indiana in penalties before a sellout crowd.
There are no such stakes in these games. Notre Dame’s specialists just act like there are when third-string kicker Bryan Dowd steps into goal. Because that’s about when the fun stops for long snapper Michael Vinson, punter Bryce McFerson, kicker Spencer Shrader, et al. Sticking Dowd in goal is like offensive lineman Joe Alt joining the lacrosse team and the Irish attackers suggesting they try pass rush moves for fun.
“We score like never,” Vinson said. “It has to be a one-in-a-million shot, hit it perfect, whatever direction he doesn’t guess.
“When Dowd’s not there, a lot more points are scored.”
The Irish soccer team understands the sentiment. When Notre Dame faces Oregon State on Friday (8:30 p.m. ET, ESPNU) in the national semifinals, Dowd will be between the posts — regulation measurements and materials this time — as the Irish try to advance to the national title game on Monday. If Notre Dame wins it all, Dowd will be a major reason why.
The senior has started the past three seasons and could be the nation’s top goalkeeper. He’s posted 10 shutouts this season, has allowed one goal all NCAA Tournament and helped the Irish win back-to-back shootouts to make the College Cup. Earlier this week, college soccer released its 15-player short list for the MAC Hermann Trophy, the sport’s version of the Heisman. Dowd was the only goalkeeper included. When the MLS stages its Super Draft on Dec. 19, Dowd is a surefire selection.
And yet, no matter what happens this weekend, Dowd’s Notre Dame career will end in El Paso, Texas, at the Sun Bowl, him warming up the Irish returners, then supporting Marcus Freeman’s program from the sidelines.
For the past two years, Dowd has been part of Notre Dame’s specialists, happy to shag balls, chart kicks and talk smack. During springs, Dowd turns into a full-time football player. During the fall, he attends team meetings, walk-throughs and dresses out for games. Football honored him on senior day against Wake Forest, the day before soccer’s opening tournament win over Kentucky. Back in August, Dowd almost traveled to Ireland with the football program, the day after soccer’s season-opening draw against Indiana. Only rehab from a preseason MCL injury stopped Dowd from boarding the plane.
“Football is one thing, but Notre Dame football is another thing,” said men’s soccer coach Chad Riley. “I think Bryan loves Notre Dame as much or more than anyone I’ve ever coached.”
The fact Dowd has never kicked in an actual football game has not dulled his affections.
But the fact that he can’t, that’s harder to process.
When Dowd first picked up a football his freshman year at Fenwick High School, he’d already been under contract with the Chicago Fire’s youth academy, where he signed at barely 10 years old. It’s not that soccer came easy growing up in Willow Springs, Ill., it’s just that a passion for it did. He rose through various club teams, never quite getting enough training to satisfy him. Bryan’s father, Dave, would take Bryan to local parks for more work.
Soccer was taking Dowd places.
Football was just something his buddies wanted him to do.
“My friends peer pressured me to try out for football, and I lied to my parents about where I was that night,” Dowd said. “I think it was a Wednesday tryout for the freshman team, and the coach asked if I could play Saturday. My parents were very cautious. I think my dad called the coach or the athletic director, ‘My boy can’t get touched.’ But I fell in love and ended the year on varsity.
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