Ice Hockey

MARASCO: The Bottom of the Barrel

It felt surreal to see Johnny Gaudreau slice through Ferris State’s backline all by himself and score on the backhand to give Boston College a 3-1 lead in Saturday night’s Frozen Four finale.

In that moment, one could feel one of the greatest horrors of sports fandom. The bitter rival – the sworn enemy – had reached the pinnacle.

At first, you were shocked – in denial about the whole thing.

“Hey, don’t give up on Ferris State just yet.  Everyone knows that Ferris State is a third-period team,” you told your friends as the game winded down.

Then Steven Whitney scored the empty-netter,  and you just couldn’t run from the truth any longer. The shock turned into pain.

You felt that horrible sensation of sports guilt work its way around the white matter of your brain.

“What was I thinking?! I knew I should’ve changed into my other socks after the second period,” you thought as you reflected on all your horrible mistakes – ranging from your choice in dip to the chair you were sitting in.

Before long, your guilt became unfettered anger.  “You’ll never play in the NHL, Whitney! Screw you.”

When you realized just how pathetic you had become – what BC had minimized you to – the depression set in. The world felt empty and dark. You didn’t want to get out of bed the next day. Your phone was flooded with messages from friends about the defeat.

“How are you feeling about BC winning it all? You bummed?” said one friend.  “No. I don’t even care. It’s nothing . . . I’m fine,” you said in reply – you’ve never been a very good liar.

You finally gave yourself a pep talk and got back out there.

“At least it’s over,” you thought. But when you walked outside and saw the paper on your doorstep – proclaiming BC as a collegiate hockey dynasty – you died a little inside and were right back at square one.

You ran back inside and turned on the TV, but there it was – that horrible word being thrown around again – dynasty.

The denial was back.

“Dynasty? Nah ah. No they’re not,” you said out loud to Barry Melrose – through the television.

But when applying powers of reason, BC’s three out of five run has indeed given them the claim to a dynasty.

So, here you are, trapped in your worst nightmare. The next year of your sports life will be lived under BC occupation.

Three straight Beanpot wins to go along with those three championships – there isn’t much trash-talking ammunition for you to work with.

When you go to Conte Forum, you’ll hear something along the lines of, “Please welcome your national champion Boston College Eagles!”

The blood spurting from your ears will be uncontrollable.

You’ll see that giant Eagle walking around. He’ll look exactly the same as always, but now when you see him you’ll feel a grotesque smugness emanating from his giant, feathery suit.

In fact, the entire student section will just rub you the wrong way.

“Look at them. Just look at them. They think they’re so cool,” you’ll say to a friend. “Yeah, and the music their band plays is so . . . so . . . dumb,” they’ll reply.

Then you’ll high-five each other.

The classic case of sports jealously – that bitterness will be tempting.

They’ve reached such a high point that your first instinct will be to try and tear them down by any means necessary.

Don’t be that guy.

After BU’s 5-0 drubbing of BC in November, an enraged BC fan approached me and several of my friends, all of us adorned in our Terrier jerseys, as we exited Conte Forum.

“You guys lost to Harvard last year!” He shouted at us. I laughed in his face. I couldn’t help it. BU had just embarrassed the Eagles on their home ice, and he was yelling at us about a game that might as well have been played in the Crustacean era for all I cared.

At the end of the day, is that really who you want to be? You’re better than that – I know you are.

Quite frankly, BC was unreal this season – 19 wins in a row en route to the title. Accept it. Take your lumps. Rub some dirt on it, kid.

As awful as these times are, they’re what will make those winning days feel so good. The thrill of victory is ultimately that much sweeter once you’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel.

One Comment

  1. I wish I went to BC instead of BU.