The storied Beanpot tournament and snowstorms go way back—to 1978, specifically.
That year, ol‘ Mother Nature dropped heaping amounts of snow on the Boston area at the worst time possible—during the opening round of the Beanpot. Being the college hockey city that it is, Boston refused to yield to blizzard conditions.Fans received the urgent message that the last trains would be leaving before the game ended, but that didn’t matter. Bostonians have a reputation to hold—the weather does not affect them at all. Perhaps too die-hard for their own good, several hundred fans watched the rest of the game, and stayed there for days as a result.
Shades of the Blizzard of ’78 reared its ugly head again this year, as the opening round got postponed for the first time since 1983, this time caused by Linus, the second major storm to hit Boston in 10 days. Chaos ensued, but this year it was students rushing to sell their tickets instead of thousands of people stranded in an arena.
With winter storms and Beanpots mixing once again, what might have happened if Boston College and Northeastern had played amid a blizzard and gotten stranded? Here’s a timeline of that alternate reality.
9:32 p.m.: The announcement comes over the loud speaker that all the roads are closed and the last trains leave in 15 minutes. Everyone is too entranced by Thatcher Demko flashing his pads and Noah Hanifin gliding around the ice to notice.
9:35 p.m.: Media members, who are beginning to take notice of the dire situation outside, quickly claim their own territory. Alliances are made and everyone begins hoarding the candies, coffee, and other treats in the TD Garden press box. Mysterious journalist finds her favored bow and arrow hidden among the jelly beans and chocolate-covered cookie dough.
9:59 p.m.: Northeastern takes down the Eagles, and the penalty box immediately goes up in flames. Initial police report states arson as the cause of the fire. Unidentified BC players being questioned. Investigation in progress.
10:08 p.m.: BC fans, dissatisfied with their loss on the ice, turn back to the chant war—“We have futures!”—in hopes of beating the Huskies in something. A strong “We are BC!” chant is started.
10:36 p.m.: Michael Matheson and Destry Straight skate around the ice in utter confusion. “What’s the big idea, Straight? It’s just a little flurry, eh.”
11:11 p.m.: After a failed shootout between Paws the Husky and Baldwin the Eagle, the BC and NU ski teams arrive to provide entertainment. After BC couldn’t secure the contract of those mesmerizing Bungee Jumpers from the UVA basketball game, they settle for some big air ski jumping. The two teams are so amped that the whole city practically turns into their own practice area. Everyone makes a wish.
11:26 p.m.: Jerry York walks home, because he is immortal.
11:33 p.m.: Back in the media suite, The Heights editor counts six cannons going off. Faces of journalists from other publications are shown on the ceiling, as Capitol music plays in the background.
11:44 p.m.: With almost every phone in the arena running low on power, most students start to lose their minds. Suddenly, all the BC fans realize they do in fact have a women’s team, and that the women even beat Northeastern earlier in the day. One fan remarks, “We are ranked No. 1 in the country, who would’ve known?” Another is heard saying, “There’s a women’s version of the Beanpot?” Heights editor shakes his head and face palms.
12:00 a.m.: The clock strikes midnight. Coffee is running thin. Coaches are turning into pumpkins. Resolute Heights editors begins to deteriorate, until Steve Addazio’s voice pops into his head—“Remember, be a dude!”
12:23 a.m.: Northeastern’s live mascot jumps at the opportunity at hand to escape his dreaded life following NU’s hockey team. Leaving the warm confines of the Garden, he is at home in the arctic tundra and realizes his dream of being the top dog in the Iditarod.
Sidenote: More teams should follow Butler and Georgetown in this tradition. I’m all in for Eagles soaring around Alumni Stadium and adorable Husky and Terrier pups prancing around the rink.
12:41 a.m.: BREAKING: Police release statement involving crucial evidence in arson case. After wiretapping the Eagles’ locker room, voices were recorded expressing their disgust at spending so much time in that cramped box during the game.
1:10 a.m.: Update: The BC student section is on hour three of chanting. The “We Are” half is going strong, but the “BC” contingent is nowhere to be found. Insane fan, who swears the walls are closing in, screams, “What are we? I need to know!” and his friend responds, “You’re a CSOM student, George, snap out of it.”
1:12 a.m.: BC student finally realizes what the problem is with BU. There’s no campus feel.
1:15 a.m.: A generous BC alumni gift parachutes into the media suite. Heights editor uses his power of camouflage to avoid the games going on around him.
1:31 a.m.: Restless fans start complaining about BC’s football schedule. Shouts and grumblings about some guy named Howard and a late bye week resonate around the arena.
1:42 a.m.: Addazio, shovel in one hand and can of whoop-ass in the other, bursts through the doors in a blaze of glory. With steely eyes and fiery bravado, he declares he will get everyone out of here. He proceeds to shovel out the entire D line from North Station to Reservoir, yelling things like “Where’s the juice?!” and “We’re a family! We have more heart than anyone else on the planet!” along the way.
Featured Image by Francisco Ruela / Heights Graphic
