An American icon passed yesterday in Chicago, and if the country still had a soul flags would be lowered in every burg that loves March and its Madness and its holy brackets. Certainly we have lowered them for lesser mortals than Sister Jean Dolores Schmidt, God and all the saints preserve her.
She was 106 years old when she died -- a life full to the top by any measure -- and she was already 98 when the nation found her. Across a couple of magical weeks in March 2018, she became simply Sister Jean to America, the spiritual groundwire/good luck charm for a bunch of gritty overachievers from Loyola University of Chicago, who became that year's beloved underdog in the NCAA Tournament.
Went all the way to the Final Four, the Ramblers did. And Sister Jean, the basketball team's chaplain, went with them, becoming in the process one those unwitting celebrities fame sometimes lands on with its full weight.
As the Ramblers kept winning, Sister Jean went from a humble nun dedicated to a life of service to, well, Sister Jean. There were Sister Jean bobbleheads and Sister Jean T-shirts and all manner of Sister Jean accoutrements. The teevees interviewed her endlessly, endlessly. When Loyola reached the Final Four in San Antonio, tournament officials even conducted a Final Four news conferences for her.
Loyola fans broke out "Win One For The Nun!" T-shirts at the games. And in the national semifinal against Michigan, signs blossomed in the Alamadome demanding the Wolverines follow "Jean's Plan."
Alas, the Wolverines didn't listen. They dispatched Loyola by 12, and the Ramblers' -- and Sister Jean's -- glorious run was over.
Over, but not forgotten. For the rest of her days, Sister Jean would never be just a nun employed by a Catholic university. She would be the nun.
And there would be, pardon the pun, nun better.
No comments:
Post a Comment