Irishness has been an all-conquering brand on the plush green campus of the University of Notre Dame campus in South Bend, Indiana, for 158 years.
Throughout its hallowed halls Irishness is promoted, and everything associated with the college tends to come bathed in bright green to emphasise the historical link.
The college's football team, known as the Fighting Irish, sells huge amounts of merchandise around the world, and the nickname itself plays on the gritty qualities of Irish-American Catholics, who have generously supported the university since its inception.
Mr Mike Wadsworth said he loved those traditions and as a former student and football player is slow to criticise the college itself.
The former Canadian ambassador to the Republic and lawyer, like many past students, is steeped in the "fighting Irish" tradition. When in August 1994 he was appointed athletic director - a $166,000 a year post - of the university, he says it was a chance to give something back to his alma mater.
The position is regarded as one of the biggest in US sport. Put simply, the Notre Dame football team members are - apart from their exploits on the field - a marketing machine. For example, Adidas pays them $25 million (over five years) for having its name on their boots and jerseys.
While the university's academic achievements are highly regarded, the college's football team tends to be at the centre of its public profile. The college recruits players from all over the US and it even has its own television network.
Consequently, athletic director at Notre Dame is regarded as one of the plum jobs in college sport, where one manages an annual budget of $30 million.
Mr Wadsworth was relatively successful during his tenure, and the Jesuit leadership of the university congratulated him on his "leadership and vision in guiding the athletic programme".
Everything seemed to be turning over nicely until Mr Wadsworth heard the name of Kim Dunbar in the spring of 1998. "I never heard of her before, but I soon found out that she had been dating one of the players and was having his child," he recalls.
After investigating the matter further, he learned there was more to the story. The blondhaired local was an ecstatic fan of Notre Dame and liked to show her adulation in a variety of ways. One was forming relationships with players, showering them with expensive gifts and paying for their travel and food out of her own pocket.
One player had shoes purchased regularly by Dunbar, while another was the recipient of gold jewellery. Although the players - who are entitled to free board, rooms and tuition at Notre Dame - appeared grateful for her generosity, nobody seemed to know where the money was coming from.
Not out of Dunbar's pocket, but from Mr Jerry Dominiack, owner of the local contractor where she worked, Dominiack Mechanical. During subsequent court proceedings it was discovered that Dunbar had embezzled $1.4 million, some of it smuggled from the company's offices in a nappy bag, and she was sentenced to four years in prison.
While Dunbar was not employed by the college, the governing body for sport, the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA), decided she was a "representative" of Notre Dame because she joined the college's Quarterback Club, and consequently her gifts to players constituted a breach of its code.
However, Mr Wadsworth points out that as far as his position was concerned the NCAA found "no lack of institutional control" by himself or the coaching staff generally. The whole thing "was just unsavoury", he said.
The NCAA decided Notre Dame had violated part of its code. In the words of the NCAA, "a representative of the institution's athletic interests provided extra benefits to several football athletes". The organisation also found that an academic at the university had received money from a player to write a paper for him.
The college was put on probation for the first time in its history, and its president, Father Edward Malloy, and fellow officials found themselves subjected to withering media coverage. After the storm blew over Mr Wadsworth continued in his work, but in February he was told by the college his contract was being terminated.
Mr Wadsworth is still sorting out his severance package but is disappointed and frustrated at the way the college decided to end its relationship with him.
"Notre Dame is one of the leading universities in the United States that prides itself on its values and its ethics. To borrow a well-used phrase, not only must justice be done it must appear to be done. Here the picture is blurred badly," he says.
He believes the decision to terminate his contract was not taken by Father Malloy alone, and some of the trustees of the college may have decided to terminate the contract to protect the image of the university.
When The Irish Times put this point and others to the university, a spokesman replied: "We regard personnel matters as confidential and we don't get into public discussions on those type of details".
However, the South Bend Tribune quoted Father Malloy at the time of terminating Mr Wadsworth's contract as saying: "Sometimes you are blamed for things you have no responsibility for. That happens on occasion for all of us. Life isn't always fair."
This response has angered many of the friends which Mr Wadsworth made during his stay in Ireland between 1990 and 1994, including Ms Norma Smurfit, Mr Peter Sutherland, Mr Martin Naughton and Dr Michael Smurfit.
The former registrar of UCD, Prof John Kelly, for instance, says he is "appalled" at the way Mr Wadsworth's departure was handled at Notre Dame. "Notre Dame may be one of the richest universities in the world in terms of finances, but it must surely be the poorest in terms of its Christian spirit," he said.
Mr Eric Hansen, of the South Bend Tribune, says he believes Mr Wadsworth was "in the wrong place at the wrong time".