CJ Carr, Lloyd Carr and a legacy choice: Why a Michigan grandson chose Notre Dame

He grew up less than 10 miles from Michigan Stadium. His grandfather, Lloyd Carr, won a national title in Ann Arbor and became a program icon. Yet the quarterback everyone assumed would wear maize and blue chose South Bend. CJ Carr, now at Notre Dame, is not just related to Lloyd Carr—he’s his grandson—and that one fact has turned a routine recruiting decision into one of the most-talked-about choices in college football.

For Michigan fans, the connection is personal. Lloyd Carr led the Wolverines from 1995 to 2007, lifting the AP national championship trophy in 1997 and setting a standard for stability and results. His teams were disciplined, defense-first, and always in the mix for Big Ten titles. That legacy runs through CJ’s family tree. His father, Jason Carr, was a Michigan quarterback. His mother, Tammi, graduated from Michigan. His maternal grandfather, Tom Curtis, was a consensus All-American defensive back for the Wolverines in 1969. Few recruits arrive with deeper ties to one school.

But legacy doesn’t equal destiny, and that’s the story here. CJ Carr picked Notre Dame, and he made clear he wanted to carve out his own college experience away from home. He said he didn’t want to attend a school in the state, even with the Big House practically in his backyard and generations of family history pointing one way. It’s a simple idea that still lands like a swerve given the last name on the mailbox.

Family ties vs. personal choice

Carr’s decision hits a nerve because Michigan and Notre Dame share a long, prickly history. They’re two of college football’s marquee brands, close enough to recruit the same high schools and big enough to chase the same championships. The series itself has stopped and started across decades, but the rivalry never really cools. So when a Michigan-linked quarterback of this caliber heads to Notre Dame, it carries extra weight.

It also says a lot about recruiting in 2024 and beyond. Players have more power, more information, and more options than ever. They study development plans, quarterback rooms, and playbooks. They look at how offensive coordinators teach and how head coaches build culture. NIL and the transfer portal only add to the calculation. In that environment, family ties still matter—just not as much as fit.

By the rankings, Carr isn’t just a name; he’s a prize. Coming out of Saline High School in Saline, Michigan, he was listed by the 247Sports Composite as the No. 5 quarterback and No. 20 overall player in the 2024 class. At 6-foot-3 and around 195 pounds as a recruit, he brought the frame and the production to back it up. As a sophomore, he completed 64% of his passes for 2,696 yards with 28 touchdowns and only four interceptions. The tools matched the numbers: smooth mechanics, a compact release, and a willingness to stand in and deliver on time.

His approach at Saline looked mature. The staff gave him a lot of responsibility early—progression reads, protection checks, and quick-game rhythm. He did not need hero throws every down; he played within structure, kept the ball out of harm’s way, and picked his shots downfield. That’s the kind of profile that programs like Notre Dame see as a foundation, not a finished product.

Plenty of national powers lined up. Carr held offers from Michigan, Georgia, LSU, Wisconsin, and Michigan State among others. The interesting wrinkle is how early this started. His first scholarship offers landed right after his freshman season. Michigan’s came so quickly that his father, Jason, kept it under wraps at first, hoping to keep the focus on school and the end of the season. When Michigan State offered, the full picture was laid out. From there, the spotlight found him for good.

Despite that early heat, Carr was clear about two things: he wanted to build something with his class, and he wanted space from home. He announced his commitment to Notre Dame in 2024 and talked about the relationships that pulled him toward South Bend. He pointed to head coach Marcus Freeman and then-offensive coordinator Tommy Rees as key connections. He liked the tone of the program, the demanding but positive culture, and the trajectory under a young head coach who connected well with recruits.

At the time, Notre Dame was selling a quarterback plan grounded in timing, accuracy, and full-field reads. Carr’s skill set fit that pitch. He also saw a place where the path to the field is earned, not promised, and where he could help recruit a class around him. He talked openly about building his “dream” No. 1 class and took an active role in peer recruiting—texting targets, jumping on calls, and selling the bigger picture. Quarterbacks who commit early often become the face of their class; Carr embraced that part of the job.

So why did Notre Dame win this over Michigan? It’s not as simple as “legacy vs. independence,” though that’s part of it. Carr wanted a fresh start. He liked the staff and the fit. He wanted to step out of the shadow of his last name and create his own footprint. That’s not a knock on Michigan. It’s a sign that the decision was personal, not political.

There’s also a reality all big programs face: you can recruit a legacy as hard as you want and still lose to the school that nails the development plan and the day-to-day relationship. Michigan made its case. So did Georgia, LSU, and others. Notre Dame connected the best at the right time.

For Michigan fans, this is emotional territory. Lloyd Carr is cherished. His teams played a style that shaped a generation of Wolverines fans. Seeing the family name associated with Notre Dame qualifies as a twist. But the game has changed, and life goes on. Michigan will always recruit well at quarterback. This one simply went the other way.

For Notre Dame, landing a blue-chip quarterback out of Michigan’s backyard is a statement. It says the Irish can compete head-to-head with Big Ten heavyweights and win. It reinforces Marcus Freeman’s reputation as a closer on the trail. And it gives Notre Dame a quarterback who can be the centerpiece of a class and, in time, an offense.

What will Carr look like in South Bend? Expect the same traits that showed up on Friday nights. He’s comfortable in the pocket and efficient from the quick game to intermediate throws. He’s patient, which pairs well with a system that requires pre-snap clarity and post-snap answers. He can move—he’s not a statue—but he’s a passer first. The developmental jump will come from repetition: more under-center work, more full-field progressions, and the speed of college windows.

Quarterback paths are rarely straight. Redshirt years happen. Competition is constant. The portal creates new battles every offseason. None of that is a bad thing—it’s how top programs stay sharp. Carr chose a place where those realities are part of the draw. He wanted a real competition and a real runway to grow.

How the recruiting battle unfolded—and what it means now

The timeline matters. Carr’s earliest offers arrived soon after his freshman season. Michigan and Michigan State were in first, with the Wolverines’ offer initially kept quiet by his father to keep the noise down. National powers followed. By the time he announced for Notre Dame in 2024, he’d built months of dialogue with Marcus Freeman’s staff and a comfort level that separated the Irish from the pack.

Tommy Rees, Notre Dame’s offensive coordinator at the time, played a role, too. Rees is a former Irish quarterback who emphasized clean quarterback play: take the layups, throw on time, protect the ball, and hit shots when they’re there. That approach matched Carr’s strengths and gave the Irish an edge during the decision phase. The head coach-OC combination—Freeman’s presence and Rees’ scheme—was a differentiator.

Michigan, for its part, presented the stability and tradition that come with being the home-state powerhouse and a perennial Big Ten contender. The fit made sense on paper and in the family album. But fit is more than a logo. Carr wanted distance and a distinct college experience—his words, not anyone else’s. That was the non-football edge Notre Dame owned from the start.

Here’s what stands out from the process:

• Legacy, yes—but independence mattered more. Carr respected the family connection but chose his own lane.
• Relationships drove the choice. Marcus Freeman and his staff made him feel like a central piece, not just another target.
• Development fit matched skill set. Notre Dame’s quarterback plan aligned with Carr’s strengths and vision for his growth.
• Early commitment strategy. Carr leaned into peer recruiting to help shape the class he wanted around him.

It’s easy to reduce this to a headline about a grandson “spurning” a family school. That framing misses the bigger point. Today’s top recruits weigh an array of factors—scheme fit, coaching, culture, depth charts, even geography. The strongest ties can’t overcome a fit that doesn’t feel right. Carr chose the program that matched his plan, not his past.

The on-field projection is straightforward. With his size and release, Carr should thrive in a system that asks the quarterback to process quickly and distribute accurately. The key will be mastering protections and speeding up reads against disguised coverages. That’s the biggest jump from high school to college. If the timing and decision-making translate, the arm talent and poise are already in place.

There’s also the human side. Name recognition cuts both ways. Being Lloyd Carr’s grandson brings attention, expectations, and comparisons he didn’t ask for. A fresh campus and a new jersey number can lighten that load. Notre Dame gives him a platform where he’s judged for his own tape, not his family tree.

As for Michigan-Notre Dame dynamics, this won’t be the last time a legacy takes a different path or a rival wins a recruit in the other’s backyard. The footprint of these programs overlaps by geography and ambition. Both will continue to hunt elite quarterbacks in the Midwest and beyond. Both will win their share. This one goes down as a notable moment because of the last name and the short distance between Saline and Ann Arbor.

The football details that made Carr so coveted remain the same. He’s accurate to all levels. He stays balanced in the pocket. He limits turnover-worthy throws. He carries himself like a quarterback—steady in the huddle and consistent in how he prepares. That’s what coaches latch onto in quarterback evaluations: are you the same guy on the first drive as the last?

If you’re keeping score at home, the takeaways are simple. Yes, he’s Lloyd Carr’s grandson. Yes, he grew up in Michigan’s orbit. And yes, he still chose Notre Dame. That tension is why the story resonates. Strip away the drama, and you’re left with a quarterback picking the place that made the most sense for his development and his life.

In the end, Notre Dame got a high-ceiling Midwest quarterback with a polished base and a competitive edge. Michigan lost a legacy but not its recruiting power. The rivalry between the brands stays sharp. And CJ Carr gets the chance to write a career that stands on its own, which is all he wanted from the start.