CUMMINGS: Tying in hockey is all for naught

In all my years of following sports, I’ve never understood why a competitive game could ever end in a tie.

Over the weekend, the Boson University men’s hockey team played the University of Massachusetts and the game ended in an excruciating 2-2 tie. From all accounts, BU squandered a game that should have resulted in a win, and UMass earned the draw. That’s just dandy for UMass, except for the fact that in my opinion, this system of “ties” is the worst rule in sports.

Now I will fully admit that college hockey was completely nonexistent in my life as of two months ago, so I might be insulting the sports gods by articulating such a ludicrous idea. But my newfound love for puck has made me even more confused and agitated with this system. For me, watching a tie happen in sports is like listening to a Katy Perry album or sitting through three hours of lovey-dovey “Titanic” just to see Leonardo DiCaprio turn into an icicle. After all that effort and time (and blood from the ears, in Katy Perry’s case), what was the point?

I’d like to think that watching two teams compete teaches me something and that when a team wins or loses I have a better grasp on their overall skill than I did before the game. If that game ends in a tie, what do I learn? That these teams are equal? I refuse to accept that conclusion, especially in college hockey.

In case you’re new to hockey like me, let me explain how teams are ranked in the standings. In college, teams are given points after each match that add up throughout the season and determine where that team stands in their conference. Wins are given two points, ties are given one point and a loss earns zero points. Because BU has only played one conference game so far, and that game ended in a tie, they have one point in the Hockey East standings. This point system ultimately determines who finishes where at the end of the season.

In a sport so defined by points, what would be so bad about removing the tie altogether? Think about this scenario for a minute. Let’s pretend that BU finishes their season dead even with Boston College for first place in the conference standings, but BC still has one game left against UMass. Let’s also pretend that UMass is terrible and finishes the year dead last in the standings. (Not too big of an assumption.) BC gets to play for a win or a draw, meaning they might not even have to play competitively because UMass is so awful. They earn a draw with UMass, and thus win the conference title because of one lousy point.

Now if BC wins that game, they earn the title fair and square, and the only complaining you’ll hear from me is about their lame mascot.

But a draw to decide first place? Not acceptable.

College hockey allows its teams to have one five-minute period of sudden death overtime if no one wins after regulation, but games can still end in a tie if a winner isn’t decided in overtime. It doesn’t make sense. Get rid of the tie, and let the teams battle in overtime until a winner is decided. No shootouts, just extra periods until one team conquers the other.

Wouldn’t we have a more definitive opinion about what that team can accomplish in future games? Maybe I’m too much of a hockey novice to understand the purpose of a tie, but I’d like to think that my experience as a sports fan vastly outweighs the limited exposure I’ve had to the game.

In college sports, football, basketball, baseball and even tennis all have fair ways of deciding a winner. Football and basketball have similar point systems through the BCS and AP rankings, but those sports don’t accept ties like hockey does. I understand that draws in hockey prevent injuries and that playing extra overtimes would stretch a player’s physical limits, but isn’t that the only reasonable way to conclude a game?

Imagine working weeks on a history paper and instead of your professor giving you a passing or failing grade, he simply ignores it. You prepared and researched and sacrificed hours of your time writing that paper, and you get absolutely no resolution by the time you’ve finished. That’s ultimately what ties represent in sports. (Yes, I know professors can’t just ignore an assignment and that they must grade your papers. It’s just an analogy. Accept it.)

College sports are so spectacular and interesting because the players are motivated by competition and competition alone. They possess an inherent love for the game that transcends the possibility of fame or money. Sure, an athlete like Mark Ingram might look ahead to the finish line of his college career and see nothing but dollar signs, but that’s not why he stuck through the 6 a.m. workouts and two-a-days in 110-degree heat. College athletes play to win, and that’s all.

So when a game ends in a tie, don’t those athletes feel somehow betrayed by the exact system they’re trying to excel in? I’ve always believed that ties were a sorry excuse for a resolution to a competition, almost like a surrender rather than a fight to the end, or grey area in a black-and-white game.