A year and a half ago-during the waning days of the Kristie Mewis-era of Boston College women’s soccer-I wrote one of the first and worst stories I’ve ever written. Looking back, “story” may not even be the appropriate word for the way I described that soccer game. It was basically a narrative-lacking, thinly veiled editorial composed of scattered British soccer colloquialisms I picked up from playing an unhealthy amount of FIFA, one misplaced quote, and a truly disturbing amount of weird analogies (“Northeastern remained determined to celebrate every corner like a Superbowl [sic] victory”).
The piece was a deadline-pushing disaster, and if then-Assistant Sports Editor Austin Tedesco had told me how bad it was, that might have been it for me-I quite possibly would have resigned myself to a life of sports-writing exile and journalistic silence. But here I am all this time later, racking my brain, desperately trying to come up with a perfect idea for my first column as Sports Editor, and I’m sure glad he didn’t. On the other hand, the hunt for this flawless idea isn’t looking great-so try to stay with me for a moment.
As someone who is terrible at looking for things and prone to losing things, retracing my steps has long been a means of survival. So naturally, when searching for an idea, I ended up working my way back to the beginning-to that aforementioned first piece, and there I found this terrifying sentence: “When the whistle blew for halftime the Northeastern bench cheered with greater joy than a six-year-old on Christmas morning, their [sic] excitement at escaping the first 45 with a tie clearly evident.” Along with making me cringe heavily, this bizarre analogy got me thinking about the feverish anticipation that comes with Christmas morning-a sensation that I, and I’m sure many of you, have in some degree come to feel for sports.
Just as the ascent of wintery weather sparks anticipation for the holidays-and a slow-burning fear of finals-it ushers in some of the best sports-related events and activities BC has to offer. In the immediate future, we’ll find out whether #Andre44Heisman is making the trip to New York for the Heisman ceremony, and watch the BC football team in the AdvoCare V100 Bowl in its first bowl game under head coach Steve Addazio’s reign. On the hardwood, this Thursday night the men’s basketball squad will try to shake off its early season struggles and kick its game into high gear with a foray into conference play against Maryland in Chestnut Hill.
While it seems like BC’s hockey teams have already been playing for ages at this point, the hockey season is still young. For the even younger men’s team, Frozen Fenway against the Fighting Irish, a BU home stand (often a high scoring, penalty-filled affair), and the Bean Pot are all waiting just around the corner-for the freshmen out there, load up those Gold Passes because the Bean Pot is a totally-worth-skipping-studying-for-your-9 a.m.-test event.
These games and events promise action, entertainment, the opportunity to watch Andre Williams run wild on a college defense one last time, and the chance to catch some truly thrilling hockey rivalry matchups. And of course, anything occurring in Conte Forum will mean the possibility of dining on BC’s signature dishes of Dead Sea-level-of-salt popcorn and awful pretzels. In addition to everything else these sporting events will bring, though, they also present unique and compelling storylines-narratives that deserve to be heard.
From the football team’s chance to go from 2-10 in 2012 to post-season prizes a season later, to Gaudreau’s quest for another shot at the Hobey Baker, to the men’s basketball team’s campaign to get back in the NCAA tournament, to the Alex Carpenter-less Eagles’ bid for Frozen Four redemption, plenty of stories are waiting to be told, and as your Sports Editor, I’m looking forward to sharing as many of them with you as I can.
Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson since that first article, and I can promise that outbursts of British lingo and ridiculous analogies will be kept to an absolute minimum as the next year unfolds.
Right now, looking at the year ahead is making me feel a lot like that kid who woke up just a bit too early on Christmas morning-slightly anxious, maybe a tiny bit nervous, totally excited, and completely ready to find out what happens next.
