There is a difference between becoming a champion and learning how to carry yourself like one.
Notre Dame had already climbed the mountain in 1988, finishing a perfect season with a national championship and establishing itself once again among college football’s elite. But championships do not buy much patience the following fall. If anything, they make the target bigger. Every opponent wants to be the one that knocks off the defending champion, every close call becomes evidence of vulnerability,
and every week brings another test of whether the magic of the year before can somehow survive.
By November 18, 1989, Notre Dame had answered every one of those questions.
The Irish arrived at Penn State 10–0, ranked No. 1 in the country and riding a 22-game winning streak that stretched all the way back to the beginning of their championship season. Yet Beaver Stadium represented something Notre Dame still had not conquered. The Irish had played there four times and lost all four, including a painful 21–20 defeat in 1987 that helped extinguish their national championship hopes.
This time, Notre Dame arrived as the team everyone else was trying to derail.
And Penn State appeared uniquely equipped to do it.
The No. 17 Nittany Lions entered the game with the nation’s best scoring defense, allowing just 9.2 points per game. Opponents were averaging only 2.8 yards per rushing attempt. Penn State had surrendered just two rushing touchdowns all season, and no individual runner had reached 100 yards against the Lions. No team had scored more than 17 points on them.
Notre Dame was about to make all of those numbers irrelevant.
The weather seemed appropriate for the challenge. A zero-degree wind chill and gusts reportedly reaching 25 miles per hour made Beaver Stadium an unforgiving place to play. It was the kind of November afternoon when finesse could disappear quickly and football could be reduced to its most basic terms: block the man in front of you, run the football and see who gives in first.
Notre Dame never gave in.
Penn State struck first after stopping Notre Dame’s opening possession. The Nittany Lions marched 79 yards down the field, and Blair Thomas finished the drive with a one-yard touchdown plunge to give the home crowd an early 7–0 lead. It was exactly the kind of start that could have rattled a visiting team playing in a stadium where Notre Dame had never won before.
Instead, the Irish answered.
Notre Dame responded with a methodical 65-yard drive, running the ball on all but one of its 13 plays. Tony Rice capped the march with a five-yard touchdown run to tie the game. Penn State briefly reclaimed the lead on a Ray Tarasi field goal, but it was only a temporary interruption. Ricky Watters finished the next Irish drive with a 12-yard touchdown run, and Anthony Johnson powered across from a yard out on fourth down to give the Irish a 21–10 advantage.
After Anthony Johnson’s fourth-down touchdown, Lou Holtz smiled when asked about his bruising fullback. “He does the things that we need to get done.”
There was nothing complicated about Notre Dame’s approach. Penn State knew the Irish were going to run the football. The challenge wasn’t figuring out what was coming. It was stopping it. Against the nation’s top scoring defense, Notre Dame simply lined up behind an experienced offensive line and imposed its will.
The numbers became almost absurd when measured against what the Nittany Lions had allowed all season. Notre Dame averaged six yards per carry against a defense that had been surrendering fewer than three. The Irish scored four rushing touchdowns after Penn State had allowed only two all year. Tony Rice rushed 26 times for a career-high 141 yards. Watters added 128 yards on 16 carries, giving Notre Dame two 100-yard rushers in the same game for the first time since 1983.
Then there was Raghib “Rocket” Ismail, who added 84 yards on just nine carries, while Johnson supplied the power inside with 45 more.
By the time it was over, Notre Dame had rushed for 425 yards.
It was more rushing yardage than Penn State had ever surrendered to an opponent.
Lou Holtz joked afterward that he would not have expected to run that many yards in a marathon.
But the story of those 425 yards began long before Rice, Watters, or Ismail ever touched the football.
Notre Dame’s offensive line was the foundation of everything the Irish did that afternoon. Tim Grunhard, Tim Ryan, Mike Heldt and Dean Brown had all played together during the 1988 championship season, with Mike Brennan the lone first-year starter among the five. That experience mattered against a Penn State defense capable of presenting multiple fronts and forcing an offense to make adjustments at the line of scrimmage.
Grunhard explained afterward that if a lineman did not know what the man beside him was thinking against Penn State, he could easily become lost. Notre Dame’s veterans had no such problem. They had played together, won together and been tested together. By this point, they understood one another almost instinctively.
Watters described the group as seasoned veterans who approached their work in a businesslike manner. His own experience running behind them offered perhaps the best description of how dominant they were.
At times, Watters said, he saw three holes and had to choose which one to run through.
For a Penn State defense that had built its reputation on taking those choices away, that said everything.
Still, championship teams are rarely remembered only for what happens when everything is going according to plan. Their character is often revealed in the moment when the game threatens to turn against them.
Notre Dame faced that moment in the second half.
Just when it appeared Penn State had been handed a lifeline, Notre Dame showed the composure that had come to define this team. Defensive tackle Jim Deter intercepted Tony Rice, giving the Nittany Lions an opportunity to climb back into the game. But before Penn State could capitalize, Gerry Collier fumbled two plays later, and Stan Smagala recovered for the Irish. Six plays later, Rice crossed the goal line from a yard out, turning what could have been a momentum-changing turnover into another Notre Dame touchdown and a commanding 28–10 lead.
That sequence may have revealed more about this team than any rushing statistic could.
Rice made a mistake. The defense erased it. The offense took the ball back and finished the job.
That was what championship experience looked like.
Penn State refused to fold. Heisman hopeful Blair Thomas rushed for 133 yards, and the Nittany Lions continued to challenge the Irish throughout the second half. But every time they threatened to make the game interesting, Notre Dame answered. The Irish defense produced crucial stops, special teams contributed with consecutive blocked punts by Anthony Johnson and Scott Kowalkowski, and Watters’ 34-yard run helped set up another Reggie Ho field goal that kept Penn State at arm’s length.
When the final seconds disappeared, the scoreboard read Notre Dame 34, Penn State 23.
The Irish had finally won at Beaver Stadium.
They had done it in the cold, against the nation’s best scoring defense, in front of a crowd hoping to watch the defending national champions fall. They had rushed for more yards than any team ever had against Penn State. They had fallen behind, answered, faced adversity and answered again.
More than anything, they had looked like a team that knew exactly who it was.
There is something different about a team that has already been through the fire together. The veterans along Notre Dame’s offensive line had helped clear the path to a national championship one year earlier. Rice had already quarterbacked the Irish through pressure-filled games against Miami, USC and West Virginia. This was a group that understood that championship seasons were not built by avoiding difficult moments.
They were built by knowing what to do when those moments arrived.
Notre Dame left Happy Valley 11–0, still ranked No. 1 and carrying a 23-game winning streak. The championship thread that began in 1988 remained intact, stretching through another autumn and another undefeated November.
For one more week, everything was still there.
An undefeated season.
A No. 1 ranking.
A chance to defend the national championship.
And one enormous regular-season game still ahead.
Miami was waiting.
Cheers & Go IRISH!
