The first Boston University men’s hockey game is Saturday, and as usual, I won’t be there.
Where will I be? Literally anywhere but inside Agganis Arena.
I might be as close as 103 steps away — measured with my size-nine feet — performing some form of physical exercise at the Fitness and Recreation Center.
I could be half way across the world in India watching a cricket test.
I could potentially even be having dinner with the Pope, but one thing’s for sure: I will NOT be attending the BU hockey game on Saturday.
Why? Because going to a men’s hockey game at Agganis Arena is so painfully boring and “turn-down” that it makes my local rabbi’s annual Yom Kippur sermon sound more exciting. And, with all due respect to my rabbi, that was 57 minutes per year you knew you were never getting back.
When I walked onto this campus as a freshman, I was legitimately excited about going to BU hockey games and taking part in the Terrier sports culture. But three years later, I’ve realized how little we (the BU student body) actually care about our sports teams and a legitimate sports culture.
And before I go any further, I’d like to sincerely apologize to the athletes themselves, whom I greatly admire and respect, and who don’t get nearly enough praise for their efforts. To be very clear, this column isn’t about you — it’s about us, and how we the student body have such little school spirit that we’d rather to go to a lousy concert at Metcalf Hall than cheer on our hockey team inside Agganis.
This all hit me in November 2013 when I attended a men’s hockey game against the University of North Dakota. As I was sitting in our “wild” student section, I looked across the arena and was struck with an epiphany.
“Wait, are there more North Dakota fans than BU fans at this game right now?” I asked myself.
“Yes, so we should get out of here and get some Chipotle,” my conscience replied to me.
That means that North Dakota fans potentially drove approximately 1,706 miles from Ralph Engelstad Arena — home of the North Dakota men’s hockey team — to Agganis Arena and back.
If my math is correct, that means that if a North Dakota fan drove to Agganis with a Toyota Prius, which takes approximately 12 gallons per tank with 48 miles per gallon, in November 2013 with the national gas price average at $3.28, it would cost him or her about $120 each way just for gas (and this doesn’t include food, hotel costs and anything else a North Dakotan might find worth purchasing).
It’s pretty crazy to drive 26 hours to watch a college hockey game, but what does that say about us, the BU kids who live 0.2 miles away in our comfy StuVi II suites and have no interest in going to a BU hockey game?
And so to properly display my discontent with attending or watching a BU hockey game, I decided it would only be fair to list out every single other activity I’d rather partake in on a Saturday night than watch BU hockey:
Stare at a blank wall. Stare at a Picasso painting. Stare at the stars. Stare at the sun. Stare at my ugly face in the mirror. Stare down Sepp Blatter until he tells me where he hid all of his dirty money.
Ponder the meaning of life with my friend Enrique. Have an intellectual conversation with the bouncer at Tavern in the Square. Partake in the Rhett’s Challenge. Listen to Boston sports radio. Spend a Saturday night working behind the counter at T. Anthony’s (“Hey Tony! I need two slices of pepperoni!”).
Drink. Stuff my face with Sunset Cantina nachos. Hang out with the owners of Roast Beast. Try all 655,360 combinations at Chipotle. Eat the free munchies at the BU Pub. Taste the free samples at Panda Express in the George Sherman Union (Anyone else a big fan of the Beijing Beef?).
Do homework on the fifth floor of Mugar. Write a 10-page paper on Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave.” Strap myself to a chair and watch “The Notebook.” (I waited for you for seven years, and now it’s too late!). Watch all eight episodes of True Detective season two in one sitting. (Did anyone ever figure out who killed Caspere? The rest of America and I never got that one.)
Watch Boston College hockey. Watch Boston College anything. Go to a Boston College football game and pretend to be a Boston College student. Have an MIT student teach me basic calculus. Watch the Ohio State marching band’s halftime show. Play two dollar blackjack at the North Hampton beach casino. Take the B line train from BC to Park St., sit in the Park St. T station for an hour, and ride the B line train back to BC. Ding dong ditch Dean Elmore’s house. Watch Sex and the City. (Am I the only one that hates Big?)
Watch The O’Reilly Factor sober. Listen to a mashup of Donald Trump saying China over and over again. Read Hillary Clinton’s private emails. Pay $15 to see one of those terrible Tyler Perry movies. Sit through an entire Tammy Vigil COM 101 lecture. Debate someone on who the best character on The Wire is (And without a doubt, it’s Bunk Moreland). Crash a Google employee’s house party. (“Do you work here?”…“No, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.”)
Go skinny-dipping in the Charles River. Convince Edward Snowden to create the perfect password for me. Play Words with Friends against my grandmother. Do a leg day workout with Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Go on a date with Amy Schumer. (Does anyone know if she has a JDate profile?) Read “Fifty Shades of Grey.” (Even I’ll admit, that’s cold).
Troll Facebook. Create a Vine. Tweet. Post a picture of my two dogs on Instagram. Snapchat a selfie of me and my Starbucks iced coffee. Go on Tinder. (But to be clear, I don’t pay for it)
Anything. Literally anything. I’d even show up to a Scientology gathering because who the hell knows what might happen there.
So for all the freshmen out there thinking about going to the first BU hockey game this Saturday, I strongly encourage you go and check it out. But don’t be disappointed with what you’ll see (or won’t see), because the BU sports culture is so weak that all you’ll want to do during the game is peruse Facebook and scroll through your high school friends’ Facebook pictures of them living it up at their respective school’s real sporting events.
I love BU, I respect and appreciate our student-athletes and I understand that BU has a storied hockey tradition. But if you think I’m going to attend or watch a BU hockey game on a Saturday night, think again.