A Rainy Saturday

Today, my roommate Dave and I stood out in the rain (rain does not do the deluge which abused us relentlessly justice) for an hour and forty five minutes watching BC do their best impression of, well... BC in an important game against an inferior opponent. It looked like Syracuse all over again. At the half the score was 20-7 Wake Forrest and it easily could have been worse.

So we left.

In the car on the way home I said to Dave, "It would really suck if BC came back to win on some kind of last second miracle."

Sigh...

By the time we made the mile walk back to the car (still in the rain), stopped at Moogy's, and drove back to Somerville the score was 27-21 Wake. BC dominated the third quarter when they decided to actually run the ball instead of throwing a wet ball to receivers with wet hands trying to run on a wet field (i.e. somewhere in the neighborhood of 1,000,000 dropped passes). In the 4th Porter did his best impression of Manning in the snow in Foxboro (read: choke) with a terrible floater intended for no one that everyone in the stadium and watching on TV could tell was going to be picked and taken all the way back about half a second after he let it go. It was.

At this point we were feeling good about our decision to leave. We were still soaked as we entered the house and the game appeared to be just about over, especially as Wake Forrest added a field goal to make it 30-21. Typical BC choke.

Right?

Enter Matt Ryan. (Note: You may never see Quinton Porter out of the ball cap ever again.) Less than two minutes later, following a brisk drive through the air capped by a Ryan to Gonzalez touchdown, the score was 30-28 and my emotions were beginning to be torn.

I looked at Dave, and didn't even need to say it. Of course I'm rooting for BC, but good God I hope they don't win on a last second miracle touchdown because after having spent nearly two hours suffering through a monsoon only to leave prematurely it would be a shame to miss a classic finish. Not a shame, a travesty, a sporting cardinal sin.

After a 15 yard penalty on Gonzalez for excessive celebration had BC kicking off from their 20, Wake went three and out from their 40. The punt kicked into the end zone and BC took over with just over two minutes to play and 80 yards to a win. Yes, technically a field goal would have won the game but if you saw last week's game you know that the kicking game is hardly a strength of the Eagles.

Now I'm really nervous. I won't want to face myself in the mirror if I miss a game winning march down the field for a huge comeback win (in a game I was at!), but then again I won't want to face myself if I root against my school either. A lose / lose situation. At least we were dry.

As I'm sure you're aware Ryan drove them down the field in a little over a minute, scoring on a 30 plus yard fade to the corner hauled in spectacularly by Kevin Challenger (one of the best names for an athlete you will ever see).

After the touchdown, with the camera on Challenger the announcers decided that it was time to give us a weather report. Not only was BC now winning, but also the rain had stopped completely. And I quote, "It's pretty much perfect down there right now."

Insult to injury anyone?

At this point these same announcers reminded us that in their last two meetings Wake Forrest had beaten BC in the last minute of play. The clock read 1:16, perhaps some vindication? The Deacons mounted a bit of a drive, and actually had an open receiver with a clear path to the end zone that was just screened from seeing the ball and making the catch by a diving BC defensive back (who was woefully out of position). The game ended on a sack and my inner debate raged.

Could I have lasted another 2 hours in my state of saturation and near hypothermia?

Is missing a classic finish my punishment for being a fair weather fan and leaving at halftime?

Is it now better to lie and say I didn't even go to the game?

Is it now better to lie and say I stayed for the entirety?

Is it now better to leap out the window of my apartment into traffic, offering myself as a sacrifice for the thousands of BC fans like myself who fully deserted their team when they needed them most?

Will the sun ever shine on Massachusetts again?

Could this blog be more dramatic?

Sigh...