With commencement less than three weeks away, many Boston University seniors are probably reminiscing about the great memories they have from the last four years, starting with coming in as a scared 18-year-old and (hopefully) ending with Dean of Students Kenneth Elmore jumping in the Charles.
But when I think back, most of my great memories have something to do with sports.
I remember my first BU hockey game: less than two months after coming to school, with a bunch of people I had just met.
BU took on University of Massachusetts-Lowell. They fell behind 4-1 in the second period, and some of the less dedicated in the group considered leaving.
Then, the BU offense lit up UML for six consecutive goals – five in the third period – to pull off the comeback victory. And even though the hockey season ended up being a disappointment – that was the year infamously inconsistent goaltender Brett Bennett tended net – I was hooked.
A few months later, I signed up to work for the athletic department for a February game at Case Gymnasium. I’d mop the sweat off the court, make a couple extra bucks, and check out what our hoops squad had to offer against the University of Hartford.
As I stood under the hoop at the far end of the court, John Holland threw down four monstrous dunks and nailed four 3-pointers on his way to a 38-point outburst. Those 38 points remained his career high for a couple years, and he put the America East Conference on notice that he was going to be a force in the league.
Meanwhile, I struggled to maintain my professionalism and composure. I tried not to gape when Holland went up for another dunk over about three Hartford defenders and me, holding my mop and staring up open-mouthed.
The next year, the hockey season provided me with enough memories to fill four years.
BU’s December win on the road at Conte Forum over defending champion Boston College stands out as maybe the best-played hockey game I’ve ever seen, between two of the most talented college hockey rosters there were.
When Nick Bonino scored a diving empty-netter to cap the 3-1 victory, Terrier fans knew the team was capable of something special. The ride continued with a 5-2 Beanpot final win over Northeastern University, followed by the usually-dreaded trip on the T from TD Garden to campus that turned into a BU party: complete with crowd-surfing to the tune of “Hey Baby.”
Then, the ride seemed to come to an end.
You all know the story, even if you weren’t a student then. Two goals in less than two minutes in the third period of the national championship, Colby Cohen’s deflected and divinely-controlled slapshot that somehow fluttered into the net for the overtime winner.
It’s no overstatement to say that game will remain my greatest college memory.
Every time I watch the last 90 seconds of that game, I feel the same dread, shock, hope and euphoria that I did watching it live. It’s a YouTube clip that can brighten up any bad day – putting it in an exclusive group that includes the Dave Roberts steal off of Mariano Rivera in 2004 that set the Boston Red Sox on the path to a World Series title, and, of course, The Muppets: Bohemian Rhapsody.
So you will understand my disappointment when I couldn’t take part in the best moment of this year’s BU sports season. I was on a plane during the men’s basketball America East championship game.
During the last few seconds, I frantically refreshed my Blackberry in the aisle of an airplane as I rushed to get to an airport TV. By the time I got to the bar, all I got were the highlights.
I watched videos of BU fans storming the court with bittersweet feelings. On the one hand, students were truly excited for a program that had worked so hard to generate interest and get to the NCAA Tournament over the last few seasons.
On the other, it was maybe the last truly great BU sports moment I could experience as a student, and I wasn’t there.
As I prepare for a career in the business of sportswriting, I think that bittersweet feeling will stay with me.
I am excited to do what I love, to be around sports constantly and to personally get to know the athletes and coaches of the teams I cover.
But the trade-off I have to make is giving up the fan experience.
As a writer, I can’t pump my fist or react to plays like I did as a freshman, holding a mop during John Holland’s 38-point outburst. Fans don’t want to hear from other fans (unless you’re lucky enough to be Bill Simmons). They can call their friends for that. Fans want to hear from a reporter in the locker room something they don’t already know.
I’m excited for that challenge. But on some level, I think I’ll always feel like I did in the airport bar, watching the highlights of Holland hitting the last two free throws to seal the win.
Half of me was ecstatic. After three unsuccessful tries, the team finally made the tournament in my senior year.
But half of me knew the joyful, painful, unforgettable experience of being a BU fan was gone.
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