I cried myself to sleep last night. And I cried myself to sleep the night before that. And guess what I did Saturday night? You’re damn right. I curled up in the Nathan Gerbe/John Muse position (the fetal position) and cried myself to sleep.
I don’t know where to begin. This was almost the worst weekend of my life. It all began Friday night at Conte Forum when I was removed from the building. I really thought my hate for Boston College was at its peak. Boy, was I wrong. I hate the Eagles with an undying passion.
Jesus and I didn’t go in costume, so I really don’t understand why the usher had to target us. We were sitting in the section directly next to the Superfan student section. Much like any student section, the Superfans stand during action on the ice. This presented a problem for Jesus and I because we couldn’t see anything when the puck went near the boards in front of the Superfans. We really couldn’t stand during play because that would be disrespectful to other people, BU and BC fans alike, in our section. So, we did the next best thing: We stood during breaks and sat when play resumed.
For whatever reason, this didn’t fly with the usher. He pulled me aside and took me out of the section. He got as close as anyone has ever gotten to me without kissing me or being my doctor. He had eaten either fajitas or tacos for dinner, because his breath smelled of something south of the border. The man warned me if I continued what I was doing I would be removed. I had to comply, and I tried to as cordially as possible. However, I quickly learned, that one phrase of agreement should never be uttered at BC or else it’s verbal trespassing: “fair enough.”
Nothing is fair at BC. Nothing. I was removed for complying, and told I was being kicked out for verbally trespassing at Boston College. If I had stayed on campus in Chestnut Hill I would have been arrested. Fair enough? The game was 4-1 at that point, and the only bright spot about being kicked out was not witnessing Gerbe’s hat trick. When I arrived back at a real university in the real city, I found out the Terrier women’s basketball team had lost to St. John’s.
Saturday night, a doubleheader with so much potential started out terrible and didn’t get much better. Jesus’s hands froze during our walk to The Roof. He had difficulties maneuvering his pockets to find his ticket. Then my Eric Gryba cardboard cutout lost out a battle to the wind and broke in half. When we arrived at Case we saw a Boston community group of young boys and girls wearing black shirts taking up the first three rows of “Section 2” and no cheerleaders. Dance team, but no cheerleaders.
I was mad. I was starting to really get to know/love them. They approached me at games, gave me words of encouragement and showed me genuine spirit. Someone told me that the cheerleading squad had more quitters and is now reduced to only four members. WHAT THE HELL? I know there are numerous hot ex-cheerleaders just hiding their abilities at BU. Ladies, step up. We need cheerleaders, as it showed on Saturday.
Sure, Corey Lowe and Carlos Strong proved that if they wanted to they could dominate play, but we need someone else to step up. I patiently wait in eager anticipation of Dec. 22 and Tyler’s projected return against Delaware. This team needs a win. But it also needs some support. I was extremely disappointed to see a meek crowd at The Roof. There were only two people in the stands, and unfortunately I made up half that number. If you come to The Roof, get pumped, show your school spirit and support this team. There is nothing better to perform to than the sounds of encouragement from a strong student body. Oh, here’s another incentive: the dance team. Enough said.
After watching another loss, Jesus and I paraded to Agganis. Fairly normal occurrences until the teams came out. What I noticed shocked me. First, our captain wasn’t playing? I feel like I’ve seen a lot of hockey, definitely a lot more than most people, but I’ve never ever seen a captain not play a game.
You know, there are some things that you can begin to expect and look forward to every year: your birthday, Thanksgiving, the 4th of July, Jesus’s birthday and the BC game at Agganis. Because, on that day, Eric Gryba gets to pound Nathan Gerbe, and pound him so hard for a good 60 minutes every time the two are on the ice together. Sure enough, my disappointment continued when I saw Gryba was a healthy scratch.
About halfway through the third period I look toward the glass in 119. There he is. The usher who kicked me out of Conte is working as security at Agganis. We stared each other down, we both knew what was up. I made sure to direct all my “you suck” chants toward him.
I’m not gonna lie, the team played well. But as well as they played, it wasn’t enough.
On top of that, 118 was weak. Students weren’t going along with any “Go Terriers” or “Go BU” chants. People, if that chant is started, it is said three, if not four, times in succession. Section 118 was consistently going only one-and-a-half or two chants and then out.
About midway through the third period I looked down to see three fans sitting down. Wait, why did I just call them “fans?” If you are in 118 you are standing. That is what being a part of the Dog Pound and 118 is all about. That’s what being a fan is about.
People constantly ask me why there’s not a football team, and if it will ever come back. How could this school possibly support a football team when there is little support for our biggest sports on campus? Don’t sit in 118, don’t sit in The Roof, because there is no way to get goosebumps as a fan while sitting. That feeling, goosebumps, is an amazing feeling.
Look, our teams don’t have good records, there’s no dodging that, but you can’t possibly tell me there is no potential. I am confident that these teams will pick it up. But it’s only going to get delayed as long as the support isn’t there. For your sake, I don’t want these teams start dominating in Vestal, N.Y. at the America East tournament or in the quarterfinals of the Hockey East when most people are home for break. I keep on being reminded of how awesome the Dog Pound was in Walter Brown Arena, before I got here. I heard it was so loud, so ferocious, so intimidating. I want that, and our teams want it.
Oh, so why wasn’t this the worst weekend in my life? Simple: an invite to the Boston University Dance Team Holiday Party. Pinch me, I must be dreaming!
Brian Fadem, a sophomore in the College of Communication, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached at [email protected].