Before the University of Notre Dame football team gathered for meetings or broke down practice film, head coach Gerry Faust always started his morning the same way: at the Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes. In the predawn quiet beneath the basilica, he prayed.
One year after Faust died, the people who knew him best say his most enduring impact had little to do with football and everything to do with the Blessed Mother, according to a Nov. 11 Angelus News reflection by Paul Coppola, one of Faust’s longtime friends.
Faust began his coaching career at Cincinnati’s Archbishop Moeller High School, an all-boys Catholic school. Over 19 seasons, Moeller became a national powerhouse, achieving 174 wins, 17 losses, two ties, five Ohio state titles, and four national championships. Twenty-six of his players went on to Notre Dame.
In 1981, Notre Dame made one of the most unorthodox hires in college football history, bringing Faust directly from the high school ranks to lead its storied program, a move ESPN later called “the Bold Experiment.” Previously known mostly in Ohio prep circles, Faust swiftly became a feature on front pages around the country.
Even so, his daily rhythm remained anchored in prayer. Each morning, he prayed at the grotto before attending Mass in the Crypt Church beneath the Basilica of the Sacred Heart. On game days, he brought his entire team to Mass before kickoff.
Faust often spoke openly about Mary’s influence in his life. Coppola pointed to an interview where Faust offered a simple explanation for his reliance on her intercession: “Sometimes mothers have a way of getting things for their children that they otherwise would not have gotten. Our imperfections are overlooked when our intentions are presented to Christ by his immaculate Mother.”
In his memoir The Golden Dream, Faust described how early that devotion took root and how it informed his understanding of vocation. He often said he owed his greatest blessings to her intercession.
“I asked her for two things: to marry a good Catholic girl and to coach at Notre Dame,” he told a friend, the university’s magazine reported.
He proposed to his wife, Marlene, in front of a statue of Mary outside Moeller High School. They were married for 60 years.
“When Gerry entered a room, he lit it up” Coppola wrote, “I believe that the enthusiasm and cheerfulness that he radiated came from his love for God and the Blessed Mother.”
Faust’s devotion was lifelong. At St. Hilary Parish in Akron, where he worshiped after leaving Notre Dame, he continued attending liturgy every day. During the COVID-19 lockdowns, when churches were closed, his pastor, Father Steve Brunovsky, recalled that Faust quietly knocked on the rectory door so he could sit in the back of the church during livestreamed Masses.
“He was one of our greatest lights in a dark time,” Fr. Brunovsky said, according to Coppola’s story in Angelus News.
His faith also revealed itself in smaller gestures. During his tenure at Notre Dame, Faust often replied to letters from supporters by placing three initials, JMJ, for Jesus, Mary and Joseph, at the top of the page, a simple declaration of where he placed his trust.
At his funeral, Coppola wrote, former Speaker of the House John Boehner and one of Faust’s former players at Moeller, described him as a coach who saw faith as inseparable from football.
“He made everyone he coached, everyone he knew, better,” Boehner said. “Helping them find their own path to heaven, that’s the ultimate victory. And Gerry Faust is the ultimate champion.”
The post The little-known story of a college football super coach and his love for Our Lady appeared first on CatholicVote org.