The Five Families

I'm lucky I come from a large family. Not my immediate family, as my wife and I only have two kids, and I was the oldest of four growing up. But my extended family is quite large. My mother had over 25 cousins, with whom she was close growing up, and our annual reunion picnic typically draws over 125 people, all of whom I know well. This year, my great-uncle, at a spry 81 years of age, single-handedly bounced my sister and I out of the beanbag tournament. I think calling him "Rick Ankiel" for the rest of the day went over his head.

Looking at it closer, I guess you could say I'm a member of five families:

• My nuclear family


• My birth family


• My wife's family


• The Notre Dame family


• The NDNation family

We don't always get along, of course. We fight as all families do. I sometimes have to raise my voice to my son to get him to put his clothes away. I argue with my cousins about Mike Brey's and Charlie Weis' coaching merits. A couple times a month, I'll get into it on the boards about ND's direction, both athletically and otherwise. But at the end of the day, even if we've pissed each other off, we're still a family.

There are also the synergistic benefits in all the families. My brother-in-law is a crackerjack estate lawyer, and my wife's and my wills and whatnot are solid for the first time in our lives. If I have a question about finance, I can call my brother or my dad, and writing issues can be brought to my mom or my cousin, both of whom have extensive experience. Cross and Oldtown have always been fonts of legal and procedural wisdom. Cash and NDMD have given me so much medical advice they should be billing Blue Cross on my behalf. And if there's a better source of general experience and knowledge than the Back Room, I haven't found it. On the flip side, I've provided IT advice as best I can to most, if not all, of that list.

It's not always easy to ask for help from your family. Some see it as exhibiting weakness. But that's what families are for. They lend you their experience when you're trying something new. They lend you their perspective when you're screwing something up. And they've always got your back, even at times when you haven't demonstrated you deserve it.

So what does all this have to do with ND? Right now, plenty.

A couple months ago, I talked about Charlie's conversation -- the one where he was going to look in the mirror and decide it was time to trust people more. I'm not sure he's done it yet, as things haven't appreciably changed in the weeks since I wrote it. Rumblings of discontent with Weis' interpersonal skills have been there since he arrived in 2005, and while winning in the first two seasons may have dampened any negative consequences, 1-9 may be having the opposite effect.

In the last couple of weeks, Irish alum and archetypical old fart Bob "Hug and Hobby" Kuechenberg has pimped himself out to any media outlet who'll have him, complaining that all his friends say Charlie is an "ogre" who doesn't treat people in the ND family well. I know Miami fans and any fans of NFL teams that have almost completed an undefeated season are familiar with Kuech, since he usually makes his opinions known on those subjects. This time of year, the most dangerous place in the world is between Bob Kuechenberg and a microphone. But although Kuech may be a nimrod for running his yapper, it's a variation on the same theme.

In a related story, my friends all now believe Bob Kuechenberg to be a grade-A toolbox. Based on the standards Kuech has set in this debate, I now feel safe referring to him as one.

Although Charlie is no doubt eccentric in his way, and can be megalomaniacal (and maybe even paranoid), he's shown a good side as well. For every story I've heard about him being a blowhard, there's been a corresponding story about his caring nature. Anecdotes of selfish behavior are offset by stories of him going out of his way to help people.

And then there's Hannah and Friends. As the parent of an autistic child, I know first-hand what you go through trying to get your child the help he or she needs. Weis is not only doing that, he's using available avenues to set up resources for other kids and parents. I have a hard time reconciling those efforts coming from a fundamentally selfish person.

Let's be clear -- Charlie ain't no saint. His single-minded pursuit of things leads to episodes where he doesn't treat people the way he should. He's so focused on what he's doing, he doesn't lift his head up and see what others in his world bring to the proverbial table.

In other words, he forgets he's a member of multiple families as well, the Notre Dame family among them.

My interaction with Charlie Weis is limited to about 30 seconds at a basketball game two years ago, so I won't claim to have any ability to influence the man. But if I were sitting in his office talking to him, I'd remind him of the people in his families that care about him, even when it doesn't seem he cares about them. Those people have resources that can help, and they want to use them for that purpose.

It isn't always easy to ask for help. It's even less to ask people you've wronged to forgive you. But people don't enter the ND family because it's an easy place to be, and failing on your own is not mitigated somehow by being a solo effort.

The patience of truly listening doesn't develop in a day. But it has to start somewhere.

Ara said it best: Anything really worth having, you have to pay the price for. If Charlie Weis wants a successful career at Notre Dame, his price is the love and humility required to truly embrace all his families -- nuclear, coaching, players, ND, all down the list -- and make them a full part of him.

Their strength and knowledge will see him through. But he has to start out showing a little strength of his own.