A Time-Honored Red Hockey Tradition

Two images stick out in my mind from last November's Harvard-Cornell game at Lynah: Noah Welch falling down at the Harvard blue line, giving up a 2-on-0 breakaway and a Cornell goal; and my friend sneaking a huge bell fish into the rink by taping it to his leg. The amount of discomfort he endured was quite high, but it was all worth it (maybe he'd argue otherwise) when he finally tossed the mammoth fish onto the ice.

Throwing fish before the Harvard game is a time-honored tradition and this year marks the 30th anniversary of the custom's creation. The whole thing began after Cornell upset top-ranked Harvard at Watson Rink in January 1973. During the game, a clever Harvard student tossed a dead chicken at Cornell goalie Doug Elenbas '73, mocking Cornell's Ag school. This didn't sit too well with the Lynah Faithful, who responded by hurling fish at the Crimson during the Cornell-Harvard contest the following month at Lynah Rink, making fun of Boston's fishing industry. A live chicken was also tied to the Harvard net, and while that tradition is gone, the fish-throwing lives on.

Last year, the University tried to kill this tradition. Mary Beth Grant, the Judicial Administrator, wrote in The Sun last November that fish throwing would no longer be allowed, after a Harvard player was struck in the face mask during the national anthem before the Red's 6-3 drubbing of the Crimson on Feb. 1, 2002. Grant asked everyone to leave the fish at home, and her request, of course, was not followed.

When the Harvard players skated onto the ice last November, they were greeted with the customary fanfare of fish. Clearly, the students were not intimidated by Grant's attempt to squash tradition, and I hope the administration has learned its lesson. What does it say about our school when it wants to put a damper on the biggest campus sporting event of the year?

Our annual tossing of fish was the second-ranked fan-thrown projectile in all of college sports in a recent issue of Sports Illustrated on Campus, and is something to be proud of. You can bet that Harvard coach Mark Mazzoleni wishes that his team had half the support that the Red has.

While throwing fish at the beginning of the game is strongly encouraged, do not attempt to throw more fish before the start of the second and third periods. The refs will be all too happy to give Cornell a bench minor penalty, which happened two years ago after someone tossed a lobster among other seafood onto the ice before the second period. Of the past four Cornell-Harvard games, all but one has been decided by one goal, so you don't want to be the idiot that could cost the Red the game.

Of course, the fish throwing won't be the sole focus of the evening. The Red looks to gain some momentum going into the heart of its conference schedule, and what better way to start that string than by beating two of the top teams in the conference.

If you told me at the beginning of the season that the Red would still be winless at Lynah at this point of the year, I would have laughed. Hopefully, the team will take care of business against a very good Brown team on Friday night, and come into Saturday with the home-win monkey off its back. There's no understating the importance of Saturday's game. Last season, the only difference between the Crimson and the Red in the ECAC standings was Cornell's two wins over Harvard.

While Cornell has avenged its previous losses to Harvard with a big win at home, this time, it will be the Crimson out for revenge. Not a single Harvard player has forgotten the team's 0-3 showing against Cornell last year, including the overtime loss in the ECAC championship game. Noah Welch certainly hasn't forgotten his "defensive miscue." On a lighter note, I would like to personally thank Mr. Welch for one of the most amusing moments I have ever seen at a sporting event. Not only did his poor skating skills lead to the game-winning goal, but it also got the entire crowd back in the game.

If you want your choice of the best seafood in Ithaca for the game, you'd better head down to Wegman's as soon as possible before they sell out. Also, be sure to hide it effectively, as the ushers will be checking you before you enter the rink.

Writers Gone Wild: Hockey Line Edition

Sun Sports Writers Mike and Jon have gotten hockey season tickets for the past three years. Here is an account of this year's line, starting with Jon:

Friday, 2:15 p.m.: Arrival

I leave my last class and head over to the Lynah/Biotech Building area. A line of people extends the entire length of the side fence of Alumni Fields. Luckily, my friend Will and his brother Charles are near the front of the line. I stumble down to them; the people around me don't appear happy that I am joining the line in front of them.

Apparently, there was some sort of "official" unofficial list of people who were there but got dispersed by the cops. The list nowhere to be seen, as some clever student grabbed it, jumped into a car, and sped away.

3:00 p.m.: Local Hockey Nut

The crowd is growing unruly, as people try to cut in line. We meet Ari Baum '07, who seems to know the hockey team. They let him cut in line for some reason. He offers us "hockey literature" while we are waiting.

3:30 p.m.: Unofficial Line Police

A group of students tries to take control of the unofficial line. Some of them are wearing the Lynah Faithful shirts from last year, which makes them think they have authority over us. Note to self: if I show up next year with my Lynah Faithful shirt and wear pants, maybe people will be dumb enough to listen to me.

3:45 p.m.: The Holy Rope

It appears as if people are trying to put a rope up around the line. Cathy and Mike, the final two members of our group, arrive just in time, as it looks like the mob is starting to get violent. Mike sneaks under the rope, but Cathy is accosted, at which point Will starts screaming. I guess people will listen to whoever is loudest.

Some kid name Gabe, who appears to be the ringleader of the unofficial line police (or idiot brigade) tries to make a speech to everyone. Here is an excerpt:

"I wanna preface this again by saying that you do not have to listen to me, I'm a student just like you, my name is Gabe. This is Alex. Alex was generous enough to go down to the hardware store and buy 100 yards of rope.

I don't care if it's your friend. I don't care if it's my mother, whose name is Simone. If she crosses this rope, I want you to look her straight in the eye and say, 'Simone, not on my watch.' Hopefully now and forty-five minutes from now everyone will stay orderly and enforce the rope. Do not let anyone cross that line."

I now feel a renewed patriotic duty to enforce the rope at all costs. God bless you, Gabe and Alex.

3:45 p.m.: Chaos

Now there is a yellow rope fencing in the unofficial line thanks to Gabe and his cronies. This just causes people to spread out more and make the line more chaotic. Anyone who comes anywhere near the rope is immediately screamed at. Another student starts screaming at a friend of mine further down the line because he is walking back and forth. My friend proceeds to ignore the idiot and walk back to his group.

4:00 p.m.: Um, yeah

The people in front of us start chanting, "Not on my watch! Not on my watch!" We laugh hysterically. It's amazing how stupid people can get after only waiting on a line for a couple of hours. I think next year, there should be someone with a high-pressure hose to spray people if they start doing stupid things on the line.

4:45 p.m.: Finally

We move to the official line. The unofficial line now extends all the way around to Berman Field. Some of these people will obviously be turned away.

5:00 p.m.: Chillin' with Ari

Mike and I have a nice chat with Ari about Cornell hockey. Here is a sample:

"I've been waiting 18 years to sit in Section B, I've been sitting across from Section B for 18 years. I'm a local, but I know more about this program than [expletive] all these people put together. I can name any player that's every played here from the last 20 years. I've been waiting for this my entire life."

Ari later had his line number canceled, as he missed the Saturday morning line check.

5:30 p.m.: OW!?

Mike gets struck in the head by a huge mat that the football coaching staff is trying to heave over the fence. Dave the Zamboni Driver walks by the line.

Mike's Viewpoint

6:00 p.m.: Size matters

The grand troupe of adventurers (or nerds with nothing better to do than sit on a hockey line for 24 hours) finally made its way into the Ramin Room in the late afternoon. After taking advantage of the large amount of space available because we had the early line numbers 50-54, we nearly incited several brouhahas when things started to get crowded. Our group literally took up about 20 X 20 square feet of floor space. Fortunately, few were ready to start any real brouhahas due to the size of our group and the fact that hockey fans are friendly.

7:00 p.m.: Soccer

I decided to attend the nearby soccer game, considering that I do cover the team for the paper and all.

9:00 p.m.: A brouhaha to remember

After returning from the soccer game cold and hungry, I realized that there was no way that I was going to go a whole night without wings. Truly the brilliance of allowing one person to hold two line numbers showed through the circumstances. My good friend Will (who I like to call Dafoe, due to his uncanny similarities to actor Willem Dafoe) and I immediately drove to Wings Over Ithaca. Of course, our break from the line was not going to escape complaints from our other group members.

9:30 p.m.: Hunting for Chicken

Has anyone ever noticed that Wings Over Ithaca is in that shopping center in East Hill plaza? Well, I hadn't. (Jon: "I told you this before you left.") It took us about 30 minutes to find the place. Needless to say, a brouhaha was inevitable considering the amount of time we took getting wings.

10:00 p.m.: The Live Band

Whoever came up with the live band idea wasn't really thinking about the negatives that come up when you mix loud live music and a large group of tired people already on the brink of brouhaha. When I returned from getting food, I noticed a band that hadn't been there before making a good deal of ruckus. It's not that its music was bad (really, no offense, whoever you were); it's just that no one really seemed to want to hear it.

An anonymous source -- whom I will only refer to as Line number 677 -- argued coherently, "This band has been playing forever, and they suck."

Note: The definition of coherently has been altered to "drunkenly" temporarily.

11:00 p.m.: I am not Matt Damon

No night with nothing to do is really the same without No Limit Texas Hold 'Em. As a self-proclaimed Hold 'Em expert (also known in some circles as "the sucker"), I brought my chips and cards to the line expecting hours of rollicking booty-slapping fun (what?).

After thinking that I was really cool for a few minutes, Gene Nighman '81 told us that we were allowed to go home. After everybody files out, some kid next to us starts jingling his keys for five minutes. We glare at him angrily. Since all our crap was on the floor already, the group decided that playing poker would be much more constructive than actually leaving and going to do something fun. Fifteen hands and three stacks of chips later, I realized what a mistake that was (Jon: "How about when I took all your money on two straight hands?")

Saturday, 3:00 a.m.: Why smart people went home

Because they didn't want to sleep on Astroturf.

8:00 a.m.: Homeward bound

Our shift was over. I headed home to fall asleep with massive back pain.