Building a Powerhouse: Marcus Freeman and the Irish are Elevating a Storied Tradition

Marcus Freeman knew the weight of the gold helmet before he ever slipped it on as head coach. When he took over as the leader of Notre Dame football, he wasn’t just stepping into a job—he was stepping into a legacy. The echoes of Knute Rockne, Lou Holtz, Ara Parseghian, and Brian Kelly all still ring loud in South Bend. That tradition can be suffocating to some. But not to Freeman. He has embraced it, molded it, and now, in his third year, he’s building on top of an already strong foundation with an energy and vision that feel unmistakably his own.

Notre Dame has always had talent. That was never the question. The Irish have consistently churned out NFL-caliber players, and their win totals have remained respectable even through periods of transition. But the Freeman era is beginning to look like something more sustainable, more dynamic. It’s not just about winning games; it’s about building a program that can win titles—plural—and do it while honoring what makes Notre Dame unique. The academic standards, the independence, the national schedule, the Golden Dome—all of it is part of the package. Freeman isn’t running from those things; he’s using them as part of the sales pitch.

Since his promotion from defensive coordinator to head coach in 2021, Freeman has helped Notre Dame modernize while maintaining its identity. He inherited a 10-win team from Brian Kelly, and he did something that’s often harder than people realize—he didn’t break it. Instead, he started stacking bricks. The program’s recruiting has elevated under his leadership, with top-10 classes becoming more common and five-star prospects no longer outliers. In an era when NIL deals and the transfer portal have fundamentally changed the calculus of roster-building, Freeman has kept the Irish competitive not by complaining about those changes, but by adapting to them.

That’s been one of Freeman’s strongest traits—his ability to adapt. Whether it’s reshaping the roster, identifying assistant coaches who fit his vision, or evolving schematically, Freeman isn’t stuck in a mold. He listens, he learns, and he adjusts. In 2023, for instance, Notre Dame made waves by bringing in Wake Forest transfer quarterback Sam Hartman. The move gave the Irish one of the most seasoned signal-callers in the nation and provided a spark that was immediately felt on the field. Though Hartman’s presence was temporary, it showed Freeman’s willingness to embrace the portal in strategic, program-enhancing ways.

Now, the pieces for long-term success are beginning to come together. There’s depth at positions where Notre Dame has historically needed it—especially along the defensive line and in the secondary. There’s speed, too, especially at wide receiver, where Freeman and his staff have placed an emphasis on explosiveness. But the most critical element is culture. Freeman has created a locker room that mirrors his own energy: intense but composed, disciplined but flexible, passionate but never panicked. Players respect him because he’s walked their walk. He played linebacker at Ohio State, dealt with injuries, fought for snaps, and coached his way up through the ranks. That authenticity translates.

The numbers support what the eyes see. Under Freeman, Notre Dame has maintained its status as a top-15 program nationally. The Irish have picked up signature wins—like the dominant performance against Clemson in 2022 and the thrashing of USC in 2023—that have served notice to the rest of college football. But it’s not just about isolated Saturdays. It’s the consistency. The physicality. The pride. Even in defeats, Notre Dame has been competitive and resilient. That’s how championship teams are built—not just by blowing teams out, but by responding to adversity and finding ways to improve.

Of course, improvement at Notre Dame isn’t measured solely by wins and losses. It’s about how you win and how you carry yourself doing it. Freeman gets that. He talks often about the “total package” of a Notre Dame student-athlete. That message resonates with families, especially in an era when so much of college football can feel transactional. Recruits are choosing Notre Dame because they see a place that can prepare them for the NFL and for life beyond it. They’re not just signing up to play in front of 80,000 fans; they’re buying into a four-year—and forty-year—decision. That’s powerful.

But don’t mistake Freeman’s culture-building for softness. On the field, his teams are nasty. They play with a chip. The defense hits. The offensive line mauls. The special teams make game-changing plays. Freeman has leaned into the physical identity that has defined Notre Dame’s best teams, while still pushing the envelope on speed and scheme. His background as a defensive coordinator shows up in the way Notre Dame attacks offenses. But he’s also empowered his offensive staff to stretch the field and diversify the playbook. This isn’t a three-yards-and-a-cloud-of-dust operation. It’s a team that can win with tempo or grind you down in the fourth quarter.

There are still hurdles. The College Football Playoff format is changing, and the path for independents like Notre Dame will become more complicated without a conference championship game as a resume booster. But that’s where Freeman’s scheduling philosophy will matter. He has continued Notre Dame’s tradition of facing elite opponents—Ohio State, Clemson, USC, and others—and he knows that every Saturday is a chance to prove his team belongs. In some ways, the pressure has never been greater. But Freeman, unlike many before him, doesn’t wear that pressure. He channels it.

Looking ahead, the Irish are positioned as a serious contender not just in 2025, but beyond. Freeman has recruited and retained key staffers who believe in the mission, including young and hungry assistants who match his energy. He’s secured elite talent on both sides of the ball and made South Bend a legitimate destination for top-tier transfers. Perhaps more importantly, he has won over the alumni and fan base, who see in him not just a coach, but a steward of the program’s soul.

It’s hard to build something new at Notre Dame. The ghosts of past greatness are everywhere, from the banners in the stadium to the statues outside it. But Freeman isn’t trying to rewrite history. He’s trying to add to it. He’s trying to hang new banners, create new legends, and push Notre Dame back to the sport’s summit. That’s not an easy thing to do in the modern era. The SEC machine is humming. The Big Ten is expanding. The playoff bar keeps getting higher. But Notre Dame has always walked its own path, and Freeman is making sure that path leads upward.

There’s a quiet confidence now in South Bend. Not arrogance, but belief. Belief that Freeman has the Irish not just on the right track, but accelerating. Belief that the next step—a playoff win, a national title—is within reach. It won’t be handed to them. Notre Dame doesn’t get any breaks. But with Freeman, they’ve got a leader who isn’t looking for breaks. He’s looking for opportunities to outwork, outplan, and outfight the competition.

That’s how you build on a legacy. Not by chasing ghosts, but by honoring them through excellence. Marcus Freeman has done just that. And the Irish? They’re not just back—they’re building something that could last.