You Wisconsin folks have always had a selective memory. That 1964 game you're so fond of? We were playing in the Cotton Bowl that year, a real New Year's Day game, not some regional scuffle. The soul of the sport isn't in your schedule, it's in the fabric of programs that built themselves from the ground up. We remember what it was like being left out, fighting for scraps in the Southwest Conference while the so-called "family" of the Big Ten and otheers looked down their noses. You talk about killed rivalries? Try having your entire conference disintegrate around you. We lost the Southwest Classic, the Battle for the Iron Skillet, real traditions that were torn apart by greed long before this latest round. Now you get a taste of it and suddenly the sky is falling. Playing Notre Dame in any era is a privilege, a measuring stick. If it feels hollow to you, that's a problem with your program's perspective, not the calendar. We'd have given anything for that kind of spotlight when we were climbing through the WAC and C-USA. The game changes, always has. You adapt or you get left behind whining about the good old days that weren't so good for everyone else.