What us sports writers do...and the occassional perks...and how a true fan is affected in the conscience, and subconscience

Sometimes, I can't help but think about the future I could have had, had I went the extra mile and really worked to be a great hockey player. Now, it is too late, and it looks like my chosen path in life is to become a sports writer of sorts. It seems like such a drop off in being one that writes about the great players rather than being a great player. But some articles, and not necessarily extraordinary pieces, help to show why us writers are such a crucial piece of sport and its history. The players make history, but is us who shape that history and dictate how long and in what way it will be remembed and told.

One such article, titled NU thinks outside the box was written by Jim McCabe in Saturday's Globe. The article will never appear in any "The Best of Sports Writing..." books, and it probably won't be remembered much past Northeastern's next big win (or tie), but this was a well-written piece that stands out.

It stands out to me for several reasons. The lead..."Whistles dominated the first 59 minutes 57 seconds..." set up the dramatic. The reader must read on.

The second graph: "But what defined the penalty-filled Hockey East game last night between Boston College and Northeastern was the eruption that shook the rafters of Matthews Arena, which certainly qualifies as an "old barn," having been around since ice was invented. But perhaps never has the place hosted anything as wild as this 3-3 tie, which was earned when the Huskies' Mike Morris pushed home a loose puck with 2.6 seconds left."

McCabe captures the essence of the game right away. The multitude of penalties. More importantly the crowd's eruption at Morris' game-tying goal at this historic arena. And he even goes on record, saying that the goal might have concluded the wildest event ever held at Matthew's? It's very unlikely, but I'm sure it ranks somewhere high on the all-time list, and it again adds excitement and feeling, bringing the reader to the game.

The main point I want to make is, that as the keeper of the shot charts during the hockey games and particularly Friday's agme against BC, I found the game exciting. I knew there were tons of penalties. I watched as several controversial calls were made and as one accidental goal light went on. I wanted to leap out of my seat when Morris jabbed Costello's rebound through Schneider's legs, sending the packed "old barn" into hysterics. But as the reporter, and even more so as the keeper of stats, I find it difficult at the end of the game, during the calm after the storm, to sift through everything that just perspired and come to the simple realization that "hey, that was one strange but incredibly remarkable game." Two days after the game, McCabe helped me to see the game how everyone should see it.

Following Friday's game, I met up with my mother, her boyfriend Laurence and my cousin Thea at Uno's. We got some beers, some food and I drank some straight alcohol to ease the pain of my wisdom teeth surgery after being recommended to do so by my elders. My friends met up with us too, and then we headed to Connor Larkin's, where the night started to get really interesting.

After a short delay in getting in (the bar was full), my cousin managed to "convince" the door man and my mom and her boyfriend and probably my 26-year-old cousin entered as the three oldest people in attendance. As we walked further in, there was part of the soccer team, for the second time that week, and third or fourth time in the last month. And just ahead stood at least three or four players from the hockey team, already at the front of Connor's after earning a dramatic 3-3 time with BC.

First, I saw Greg Kilkenny, the leading-scorer of the soccer team. I had seen him earlier that day or another earlier on the street, exchanged hellos and this time, I talked to him for a little bit again. I told him the hilarity of the situation already, and before long, I was moving on toward the front of the bar. I pushed threw the dense crowd to get a few pitchers and before long, we were drinking in the midst of Mike Morris, who sat front center and Joe Santilli. Also right there was Dennis McCauley, teammate from about 10 years ago. I told my mom and everyone else of the situation with the soccer team and the hockey team, and the best players from both squads. I watched Morris, who is of my age, but looked elegant, glorious, cool and composed, above-and-beyond and a man among the surrounding crowds of boys and girls. Santilli, who I have learned is the character of the team, was even closer (right next to me). I don't know how it started, maybe I played the "are you on the hockey team? act. I can't be sure, but my mom and I struck up conversation with the short, clever-speaking character with slicked back hair and a black leather jacket to complete his Italian appeal. He was extremely nice and lived up to his reputation as a great interviewee. I learned a thing or two about him, and a thing or two about my boss, who Santilli had a story or two about.

I was there, behind the scenes with some lesser-known heroes of mine, drinking at a bar. As weird as it was, I had an unbelievable, eye-opening time that only got better as I watched my mother approach The Star, front and center, and shake Mr. Morris' hands while saying something along the lines of "nice game tonight," or maybe something funnier that I will just never know. My mom also recently said to me, "he reminds me of Gretzky...am I wrong on that?" Come to think about it, he does look a little bit like the Great One.

Now, on to my dream from Saturday night. It's been a few days, but I remember most of this dream taking me around my neighborhood, to a friend's house and then back to my place, where we were having a big family get together. With me was Dennis McCauley, and perhaps other members of the hockey team, and we had a good time. I wish I could elaborate, but that's all that's coming to me right now.

Ffor now I'm off for some ceremonial lighting at Christopher Colombus Park, some free Mike's pastry and Legal Seafood's chowder before we watch the B's go for their fifth straight at TD.