I have a difficult time getting interested in college sports. Probably because I went to a college where nobody actually cared about sports. So each year when the NCAA tournament comes along, it usually takes me a while to fully focus on the event. Like most people who lack a meaningful attachment to any of the colleges or universities in the tournament, I find myself grasping at the most tangential reasons to root for a school. When my best friend e-mailed me about her allegiance to Portland State, where she went to grad school — “Go Vikings! I think you’ll appreciate that their star player is a 5’5 point guard!” — I decided that I liked Portland State, and wanted them to do well. (They didn’t — seeded 13th, they lost to Xavier in the first round.) And, of course, there’s Siena — our local connection to the tournament. Of course I support Siena.
But on Friday, when most Capital Region sports fans were thinking Siena — seeded ninth, and set to take on Ohio State that evening — I was thinking about hockey, and lacrosse. My high school friend Cabot and his friend Han-Yang, both Cornell alums, were coming to Albany to watch the ECAC hockey tournament, and an old camper who currently attends the University of New Hampshire was coming to town to play lacrosse at the University at Albany. Naturally, I planned to go to these games, and so I suddenly went from not caring about college sports at all to taking a passionate interest in them. And of course I was rooting for Cornell and UNH — having friends who are affiliated with those schools was all it took to turn me into an enthusiastic bandwagon fan. I even wore a red fleece to Saturday’s championship game at the Times Union Center, when Cornell took on Yale.
Friday’s hockey game, Cornell versus Princeton, was exciting. And you know I know what I’m talking about, because every two years or so I actually watch a hockey game. Of all the sports, except maybe soccer, hockey is the most meditative, and at one point I felt myself lapsing into a zen-like trance. There didn’t seem to be a lot going on, but the skating sure was pretty. Every once in awhile something vaguely violent happened, and Cabot muttered, “Well, that was intriguing.” When Princeton jumped out to a 3-1 lead, he looked thoroughly disgusted. “Time for the thrilling come-from-behind victory,” I said. “That’s not going to happen,” he said. “Cornell wins when they’re winning, and they lose when they’re losing.” (As you can see, I’m not the only one who lapsed into a zen-like trance.) “They’re going to tie and send it into overtime,” I said. Cabot shook his head. “That’s highly unlikely,” he said.
But then, with less than three minutes to go, Cornell scored. This roused the crowd; some people, like Cabot, even got to their feet. (When a woman complained that she couldn’t see, he suggested she stand up too) Then, with 24.5 seconds remaining, Cornell sophomore Riley Nash tied the game to send it into overtime. “Hey, I was right about that,” I said, just in case my genius had been lost on anybody. (Funny, but nobody seemed all that concerned about who had or had not correctly predicted the outcome of the game.)
In hockey, overtime is SUDDEN DEATH, and so we braced ourselves for a nail-biting conclusion. When nobody scored, the game entered a second overtime. Finally, with about 10 minutes left, Cornell senior captain Colin Greening scored. And it was over, just like that. “That’s one of the best hockey games I’ve ever seen in my life,” Cabot said. Yes. And I was right about it.
By then we were hungry, and so we swung by the Hill Street in Albany. But the place was so packed with Siena fans that we couldn’t even move, and so I suggested we go to my apartment to watch the end of the game, even though the only things I have in my refrigerator are beer, water, apple cider and leftover pesto lasagna that I really need to throw away. I’m glad we did. The basketball was almost as thrilling as the hockey: a dramatic double-overtime victory over Ohio State. Then I went to bed, so I could store up enough energy to watch sports all day Saturday.
Around 1 p.m. the next day I found my young friend’s mother and father in the stands at John Fallon Field at the University at Albany. “I’ve never watched lacrosse before,” I said. “What goes on?” “It’s complicated,” my young friend’s mother said. “It took me multiple years to understand it.”
At first, it looked like the rout was on. The University at Albany surged to a 10-0 lead, at which point the officials just let the clock run, and all seemed lost. But then UNH managed to score. “Time for the thrilling come-from-behind victory,” I said. My young friend’s mother looked skeptical. “I don’t know,” she said. But then UNH scored, and scored and scored and scored again. In fact, they scored 14 goals, and sent the game into overtime. Turns out, when lacrosse is competitive, it’s kind of fun to watch.
I was hoping my overtime luck would continue, but alas, it did not. The University at Albany won, 16-15, and after a brief tailgate in the parking lot I dashed back to the Times Union Center to watch Cornell take on Yale in the ECAC final. But with Yale leading 5 to 0, we made an early exit. For some reason, a thrilling double overtime victory just didn’t seem to be in the cards. On Sunday night, I was out knitting, and so I didn’t watch Siena versus Louisville. But I was sincerely hoping Siena would pull off the upset, and disappointed when they did not. Ah well. You can’t win them all. I’ll just have to find some other schools to cheer for, that’s all.
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