A Final Reflection On Cornell Sports

During my visit to Cornell as a junior in high school, I attended a Q-and-A session with other prospective students. While most of the questions were in the typical mold of the sort you would expect to hear (What’s the core curriculum? Are the students really competitive?), one girl asked, “Can the students playing intramurals use the same fields as the varsity athletes?” At the time, I thought this was the most ridiculous question that anyone could have asked. “Who cares about intramural fields? I’m here for the academics,” I thought at the time.

It is ironic that, five years later, I have spent a large portion of my time here at Cornell at both the intramural and varsity fields. Coming in as a freshman, I had no idea that I would stand in the pouring rain during a football game, get frostbite covering an evening soccer match, or play ice hockey in Lynah Rink. I’ve experienced a lot of things here as a fan, a reporter, and an athlete, and it’s these memories that I’ll look back upon years later and smile.

Thinking about how sports as a whole has impacted my college experience, I remembered those commercials on ESPN – the ones that asked, “Without sports, how would we know what we’re made of,” or “who would cheer for the Nimrods?” I’d like to that ask -- and answer -- that question now, based on my four years on the Hill.

Without (Cornell) sports….

Why would we hate Harvard?

Sure, they’re ranked higher than us in the USNWR rankings (along with every other Ivy for that matter), but how much can you really dwell on those numbers? The Ivy League, after all, is an athletic conference, not a research convention. We can complain all we want about Harvard’s grade inflation, but once a year when the men’s hockey team provides a beatdown of the Crimson in Lynah, we can forcefully assert our dominance. There was never a time that I hated Harvard more than after they beat us in overtime at Lynah East my freshmen year. When they came to Lynah three months later, the atmosphere and crowd noise was unbelievable, and Cornell got its revenge with a 6-3 thrashing of the Crimson. But then of course Harvard went and won the ECAC title in double-overtime, setting off another round of hatred.

How would we brag to our friends at other schools?

I’m sure your friends at USC or UNC really cares that Cornell’s nano-genomic research department is regarded as the best in the country. They’ll really lose sleep over that fact after watching their school’s highlights on SportsCenter. While people don’t normally think of athletics when they hear “Cornell,” the athletes and teams here have been making a huge splash on the national scene in the past four years. The wrestling team finished fourth in the entire country this year at the NCAAs, and senior Travis Lee won his second national title in three years. The men’s lacrosse team is currently ranked fourth in the country after posting its first undefeated Ivy season since 1987. They’ve also reached the NCAA quarterfinals in two of the past four seasons. Of course, the men’s hockey team has had an amazing run the past four seasons – a Frozen Four appearance, three NCAA tournaments, two ECACHL titles, and four Ivy League titles, not to mention two Hobey Baker finalists. We’ve also had a slew of All-Americans in hockey, lacrosse, wrestling, track, cross country, and softball.

What would we wear?

ESPN already touched on this question in one of their commercials by showing a clip from Nelly’s music video for “Air Force Ones.” While I sadly don’t own a pair of these coveted shoes, I do have an inordinate amount of Cornell sports clothing. Let’s tally it up – one Lynah Faithful shirt, three Cornell hockey hats, two Cornell hockey jerseys, one ECAC Championship t-shirt, three Frozen Four t-shirts, three Cornell hockey long sleeve shirts, three Cornell basketball t-shirts, two Cornell lacrosse t-shirts, and one Cornell football t-shirt. That’s two weeks worth of clothing right there.

How would we give it our all?

For those of us non-varsity athletes on campus, we are fortunate enough to have the largest intramural sports program in the Ivy League. I can think of no better activity that lets you take a much-needed break from studying and also lets you demonstrate to your classmates that you are, indeed, the best horseshoes player on campus. Thinking back to that Q-and-A session, I never thought the answer to that girl’s question would actually have any importance to me. Of course, now I know the answer – sometimes, depending on the sport and/or how far into the playoffs you are.

As this is my last column, tradition holds that I explain what my moniker, “I Never Kid,” actually means. To understand the relevance, we must travel back to the fall of 1968….

It’s the first day of class, and my father, a high school senior, is sitting in college physics (it’s a double period). The teacher was Mr. Landau--

the most nasty, ornery teacher in the school. He had a bad reputation and everyone hated him. Landau had a short gray crew cut and mustache like Adolph Hitler. His complexion was gray – gray mustache, gray face, gray hair. After a lecture for the first period, the bell rings, and Landau tells the class to sit quietly until the start of the next period. In between periods, a student comes into barging in, and flings open the door. The class, who had been sitting quietly, looks up at this kid. Landau then looks at the kid and asks, “Who are you?”

“I’m XXXXX,” the student says.

“Where have you been?”

“I’ve been in study hall.”

“Well, this class is a double period and you missed the first period.”

“You’re kidding!”

At this point, Landau bangs his fist on the table and screams,

“I NEVER KID!”

And he never did.

35 years later, this seemingly irrelevant story inspired the name for my column. As a kid, my dad would retell similar stories about Landau. Whenever I questioned the fairness of one of my parent’s decisions, my dad would quip, “I never said it was fair,” another Landau-ism, this one born after a student complained that he only got two points on a test even though he had the right answer (but the wrong work). This was in stark contrast to his usual grading policy of full credit for the correct answer and no credit for the correct work, and so the student protested about the unfairness of the new policy. However, the student was lucky to have received such a comment, as Landau typically answered an argument with, “So?”

While this story has nothing to do with sports, it’s a fitting title because of my preferred use of sarcasm in my columns. At times, I took the sarcastic route in my columns (such as my suggestion that hockey bring back the rover position as the solution to its labor woes or when I previewed the 2004 baseball season by comparing teams to their animal nicknames). Other times, “I Never Kid,” can be taken at face value (see my actual suggestions for repairing the game of hockey after the season was cancelled). Overall, I tried to take the middle ground because too much sarcasm gets old too quickly and too much seriousness makes a column boring. No one wants to be lectured about sports – people prefer to be entertained.

Though I had no central theme for my column topics, I always tried to write about something that was just outside the game itself, whether it be the sports media, business, or history. By the time you pick up a copy of the Sun, you’ve already heard everything you need to know about how the Yankees can get out of their slump, so you certainly don’t need another reiteration. Hopefully, I’ve given you a fresh take on some sports issues you may not have been thinking of.

At this point in the column, some thanks are in order:

To my mom: You’ve read every article I’ve written for the Sun over the past four years, edited my writing, talked sports with me, and always reminded me to do my work, thanks for your support.

To my dad: I know sports aren’t at the top of your list, but you still read most of my stuff anyway. I’ve relied on you for help with physics and computer science, and I appreciate it a lot. Thanks for your sense of humor and the stories above.

To Alissa: Every other week you ask if you’re going to be in my column, and at last, here you are. You never fail to impress me with all you’ve done in high school, and I’m sure you’ll continue to impress me once you get to Cornell this fall.

To my grandfather: For first cultivating my interest in sports and for quizzing me endlessly about sports trivia.

To the current Sun Sports Editors – Chris, Brian, Bryan, and Olivia: You guys work incredibly hard every day to put out this section. You’ve still got a lot of work ahead of you, so try to get some sleep.

To the past Sports Editors: Thanks for editing my columns and for molding me into a better sports writer.

To Mike Pandolfini: We’ve covered many sports together and have gotten two free t-shirts out of it. Good luck next year getting a reservation at Dorsia.

To the Cornell coaches and athletes: It’s been a pleasure covering your teams the past four years. I’m awed by your hard work and dedication.

To Sports Information: Your enthusiasm and friendliness has made my job a lot easier.

To my friends: You sometimes read my column; that was nice of you. Thanks for the experiences and the memories these past four years.

Finally, to the reader: Thanks for reading down this far. The best part about being a columnist is the positive feedback I’ve received from you.

Well, that’s it. I would like to leave you with one final piece of wisdom – the best water fountain on campus can be found in the ACCEL lab in the engineering library.