The Dartmouth women's hockey team ended their season just a couple short weeks ago in maybe the worst possible fashion: the sudden-death overtime loss. Sudden death is thrilling for a sports fan, but when it is your team involved, it is far too tense. I would rather leave sudden-death overtimes for teams I have a more casual interest in, as the anxiety is immeasurable (I can only imagine how the players feel).
When a game ends like this, it feels like you have been hit by a freight train. These freight train games get even worse when 1) your team was expected to win, 2) your team dominated the course of play, and 3) had plenty of chances to win. All of those factors conspired against Dartmouth's women's hockey team back on March 10, and ended the collegiate careers of some outstanding student-athletes. A team built for a chance at an NCAA tournament title ended their season on home ice, losing against a lower-seeded foe.
When Meghan Fardelmann scored four minutes and twenty seconds into the second overtime, Boston College emerged with a 3-2 victory, despite being outshot 47-31.
And when the puck hit the back of the net, the entire arena was still, overcome with silence. The end came too soon to create any emotion, too unexpected for anyone in a white-and-green uniform.
When a loss like that happens, even as a fan, any preexisting energy just disappears immediately. All anyone wants to do is just curl up and go to sleep, pretending it was just a dream. As a Red Sox fan, this was how I wanted to spend time after Game 7 of the 2003 American League Championship Series.
Until two weeks ago, I hadn't watched a freight train sporting event since the fall of 2003, and both of them still feel almost surreal. Neither time could I speak more than a few words afterwards, not even commiserating with my fellow fans. The best anyone could do was utter a few platitudes and move on, realizing that there is always next year, but this year still hurts for the time being. This is the unfortunate side of sports, the one they never tell little children about when they pick up a ball or a bat, a stick or a glove.
If I seem morose, it is because remembering the game still brings back the shock of it all, the feeling of a season ended in one brief moment.
I would be remiss however, if I did not mention the owners of Dartmouth's first national championship in 31 years, the ski team, who dominated the competition and became the first Eastern school to win the national championship since 1994. It also needs to be said that Dartmouth's last national championship was also in skiing, back in 1976.
According to skiracing.com, Dartmouth is likely the first school since the NCAA sanctioned skiing back in 1954 to win the national championship with an entirely American roster (many Western schools rely in large part on Europeans).
When I wrote just one month ago in this column, "Teams have qualified for national tournaments, made runs searching for NCAA titles, oftentimes close, but never reaching the ultimate goal...when it is finally accomplished, it will be worth the wait," I had no idea the wait would end so soon. I think if you ask the ski team though, they will say it was definitely worth it.
Strangely enough, this was also the year that Dartmouth ended its streak of five straight NCAA slalom titles, as 2005 NCAA champion David Chodounsky '08 finished second, just .04 seconds behind Denver's Adam Cole. However, with an impressive display of balance and depth both within and between the nordic and alpine teams, Dartmouth emerged victorious while most students were busy studying for finals.
Overall it has been a very mixed last few weeks for Dartmouth's winter sports, with both hockey teams ending their seasons too early but the ski team triumphing. Now that spring sports are center stage and mud season is upon us, it's time to say goodbye to the ice and snow, and hello to the grassy fields.
Our last remnant of winter remains with this weekend's Final Four, so enjoy it while you still can.
