
I have had a few brushes with famous people in my lifetime.
I once shook hands with Jimmy Carter. I sat in the living room of the house where Trisha Yearwood grew up. I stood so close to Muhammad Ali he could have landed a left hook. (I’m glad he didn’t.)
Nance Grace and Mike Huckabee both mentioned me by name on national television. I spent part of an afternoon talking with Karl Slover, one of the last surviving Munchkins from “The Wizard of Oz.’’ I had my picture taken with the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders. I stayed in the same hotel with Tom Cruise when he was making the movie “Days of Thunder” at Daytona Beach. (It didn’t take long to figure out all those women were hanging out in the lobby for a glimpse of him, not me.)
Somewhere on that list of “Did I Ever Tell You About the Time?” stories is the day I met Rudy.
I’ve been thinking about Daniel Eugene “Rudy” Ruettiger lately, especially with Notre Dame set to play Georgia on Wednesday in the quarterfinals of the College Football Playoffs.
