How a legendary coach shaped lives far beyond the field
The tragic death of George Floyd in Minneapolis on May 25, 2020, sparked a national reckoning with racial injustice. Citizens took to the streets in protest, and voices from across the country—including those from the world of sports—rose to meet the moment. Coaches, long regarded as leaders and mentors, responded not only with words but with actions that reminded us how deeply they can shape lives beyond the playing field.
At Notre Dame, head football coach Brian Kelly, along with coaches Muffet McGraw, Niele Ivey, Clark Lea, Tommy Rees, Brian Polian, Terry Joseph, Mike Elston, Del Alexander, Matt Balis, and others in the athletic department, spoke out. Kelly quickly formed a team “unity council” composed of players and staff. And on June 19—Juneteenth—he and several players led a peaceful prayer and unity walk across campus to commemorate the emancipation of enslaved people in Texas in 1865.
Coaches, at their best, do more than win games. They mentor, inspire, and challenge. They have the power to influence not just locker rooms, but entire communities. And as the national response to George Floyd’s death unfolded, it called to mind the legacy of one coach in particular—one no longer with us, but whose example lives on in the lives of those he led.
That coach was Ara Parseghian.
Ahead of His Time
Parseghian, the son of Armenian refugees who fled the genocide in Turkey, began his head coaching career at Miami of Ohio in 1951. In 1955, he led his team to a perfect 9–0 season and a prestigious invitation to the Tangerine Bowl. But there was a catch: the game was to be held in segregated Orlando, Florida, and officials required that Miami’s Black players be left behind.
Parseghian, with the backing of his university, refused. He turned down the bowl bid—an extraordinary and principled stand in a time when such decisions were rare and often costly.
That same spirit of conscience would define his career. When he arrived at Notre Dame in 1964, the school had made only slow progress in diversifying its student body. The first Black student, Frazier Thompson, had been admitted in 1944 through the U.S. Navy’s V-12 Officer Training Program. He earned a monogram in track and graduated in 1947, later contributing to the development of NASA’s astronaut suits. Late in life, suffering from cancer, Thompson was asked what he wanted from Notre Dame. His request? A Notre Dame Stadium blanket.
In 1952, Father Theodore Hesburgh became president of Notre Dame. At the time, there were fewer than a dozen Black students enrolled. One of the first major breakthroughs came in 1953 when Wayne Edmonds became the first Black football player to earn a monogram at Notre Dame. On road trips to Oklahoma and North Carolina that season, segregation laws barred Edmonds from staying in team hotels. The team refused to be divided, staying together at alternate sites. Coach Frank Leahy used the injustice as fuel, and the Irish defeated sixth-ranked Oklahoma 28–21 and North Carolina 34–14. Georgia Tech refused to allow Black players to travel to Atlanta; Notre Dame cancelled the game, moving it to South Bend instead.
Despite these early efforts, when Parseghian arrived in South Bend, Notre Dame remained a predominantly white institution. But Parseghian, paired with Hesburgh—who served on the U.S. Civil Rights Commission—helped change that. Hesburgh increased scholarships for minority students. Parseghian recruited and empowered talented Black players, including Alan Page, Bob Minnix, Clarence Ellis, Thom Gatewood, Luther Bradley, Eric Penick, and Willie and Mike Townsend.
In 1969, Notre Dame reversed its long-standing policy of declining bowl game invitations. One of the reasons given: the extra revenue would be used to fund minority scholarships. In just one year, from 1969 to 1970, the number of minority students on campus doubled. The 1970 freshman class included 118 African American students.
A Coach, a Governor, and a National Title
In 1973, Notre Dame faced Alabama in the Sugar Bowl for the national championship. The night before the game, Father Hesburgh—who never before made such a request—asked Ara to win the game. He gave no reason, but the implication was clear. Hesburgh had once faced down Alabama Governor George Wallace, a staunch segregationist, during civil rights hearings in Alabama.
Ara, under pressure, delivered: Notre Dame defeated Alabama 24–23.
Fairness and Compassion
Ara’s legacy isn’t defined only by victories. He was a teacher of life as much as football. Former team captain Frank Pomarico described Parseghian as “sensitive and fair,” a master communicator who set clear expectations while remaining open to input. “He oozed all kinds of information about life,” said Pomarico. “You couldn’t get enough of it.”
Parseghian wasn’t afraid to handle tough issues head-on. Pomarico recalled a situation in which two Black players were suspended for repeated violations. Ara called a team meeting and transparently listed ten separate infractions. By the fifth item, the entire team stood behind the decision—united, not divided.
Greg Blache, a walk-on from New Orleans, was another of Ara’s lasting success stories. After an injury ended his playing days, Parseghian asked him to coach the freshman team. He became a graduate assistant and, in 1972, was named Notre Dame’s first Black assistant coach. Blache went on to a long career in college and the NFL, serving as a defensive coordinator in Green Bay, Chicago, and Washington.
Now retired, Blache calls Parseghian his “second father.” He recalls Ara reading four newspapers each morning, hungry for insight on everything from politics to the Vietnam War. “He didn’t shoot from the hip—he researched it,” said Blache.
Ara’s upbringing—growing up poor, Armenian, and familiar with persecution—shaped his deep understanding of others’ struggles. “He had no tolerance for bigotry and prejudice,” said Blache.
A Message for Today
Blache, a member of the brotherhood Pomarico calls “Ara’s Knights,” believes today’s world needs the same principled thinking Ara practiced. “I am all for peaceful protests,” he said, “but you have to be judicious. There comes a point when we need more than just discussion—we need solutions.”
Pomarico echoes that sentiment: “Be nice to each other, and give each other the chance to be nice. We need to open up our hearts. We all bleed red.”
Today, Pomarico remains a dedicated communicator, hosting a weekly Notre Dame football segment and developing a motivational radio project called The Kingdom Within. Blache, meanwhile, still watches the Irish—though sometimes, like many former coaches, he finds it hard to stay in the room when the tension mounts. “I just go out in the yard and work on a project,” he says with a smile.
Both men are living testaments to Ara Parseghian’s enduring influence. More than 60 years ago, Parseghian was already living the values that coaches in 2020 and beyond continue to champion. His message, his method, and his legacy are as relevant now as ever.
As Blache put it: “Ara realized that change was necessary. We needed progress to become a more inclusive society.”
That message still rings true.