Now, I know most commencement columns will focus on the nostalgia generated by graduation's stark reality. This one is no exception. But after trying to sniffle my way through a whole laundry list of abysmally sappy send-offs, this final installment of Out of Thin Air will do its best not to leave you, graduating reader, reaching for the tissues.
Besides, there aren't any left - I used them all.
When the Class of 2006 stormed onto the Tufts scene four years ago this September, we were the best, brightest and most accomplished group of 18-year-old brats this University had ever admitted. At least that's what they told us at matriculation. We leave Tufts today as the least accomplished admitted class on campus - '07, '08, and even '09 outdid us. Where do they come up with these people? But the paradoxical academic downgrade that comes with earning an undergraduate degree doesn't mean our lives changed any less during our days on the Hill.
While we were happily buoyed in the charmed collegiate bubble between childhood restrictions and the adult real world, the US went to war in Iraq, President Bush was re-elected, genocide took its toll in Darfur and a tsunami ravaged Southeast Asia. The world did not stand still as we marinated in academia.
Sports, though not nearly as important as these world affairs, also saw momentous events between 2002 and 2006. Some were amazing feats of continuity, and others shattered old standards. All of them, however, characterized our college years and inspired some of my favorite Tufts memories.
In keeping with past trends, the Atlanta Braves won the National League East division four times, only to lose in the LDS after each division win. Those playoff appearances were just four more tally marks for a franchise that hasn't exclusively watched October baseball in over a decade.
Lance Armstrong won four Tour de France cycling races while we were at Tufts. An extraordinary feat, but just four of seven record-setting consecutive victories. Not bad for a guy who not only overcame death, but has agreed to speak at today's commencement ceremonies.
With each of these enduring sports accomplishments come equally impressive new twists to the games we know and love. I swore at the onset that this column would focus on sports outside the unofficial boundary of Red Sox Nation, but I'm breaking the rules this time around, and for good reason. How lucky were we as sports fans to have just spent the last four years in Boston?
Normally when a hometown team wins back-to-back Super Bowls, it's enough to leave fans satisfied for at least a few years. But the New England Patriots' victories in the 2003 and 2004 seasons paled in comparison to everyone's favorite bunch of idiots> the 2004 World Champion Boston Red Sox.
Watching the Sox beat the arch-rival New York Yankees in an unprecedented seven-game comeback not only evaporated all memories of 2003's ALCS and Aaron F. Boone, it ranks as the most elated I have ever seen many of my friends, not to mention an entire city.
In a town where most people are so caught up in their own dour lives (or maybe they're just annoyed with the weather), the night the Red Sox beat the Yankees featured, among other revelries, street dancing, horn honking, high-fiving, chanting and hugging. Lots and lots of hugging, all between strangers. The celebrations in Denver after the Avalanche won the Stanley Cup and the Broncos won consecutive Super Bowls were tame little soirees in comparison to the street party that enveloped downtown Boston that October night. And the Sox hadn't even won the World Series... yet.
Even though the four-game Fall Classic sweep of the St. Louis Cardinals was anticlimactic in a way (probably the result of an extended hangover after the victory over the Yankees), it still gave me goose bumps to see that illusive red banner unfurled on Yawkey Way. And the perma-smiles on Sox fans' faces managed to brighten even the misery of the subsequent Boston winter.
I still contend that my commitment to watching the Red Sox that fall should have counted as a sixth course. My friends and I packed our couches to watch each and every pitch of the historic run. The pessimism never wavered, but when the Sox actually pulled it together and beat the Yankees, we ran outside and burned one of my buddy's Yankees hats in the middle of, you guessed it, Boston Ave. After the fire fighters left - shaking their heads, but not un-amused - we barreled into the city to enjoy the party. Oh what a night.
That was just one of the many sports memories I will take with me from my years at Tufts. The freshman year Cinco de Mayo hall party when the Avalanche played the Minnesota Wild; scalping tickets outside Fenway Park (always cheaper for a bunch of girls); celebrating on the quad after the Pats won the Super Bowl in 2004 to the classic Boston chant, "Yank-ees suck!"; raiding the open bar at Denver's Pepsi Center during our spring break ski trip. The list goes on and on.
Though sports provided just one small portion of my college experience, few things have the capacity to replace the bonds I've formed with my fellow sports fans over these four years. Whether it was explaining baseball to my clueless girlfriends or debating the superiority of Jake Plummer this season with the sports-savvy Daily kids, these memories are going to last.
Sports have a way of connecting the ages, linking past to present, young to old, rookie to veteran. They evolve over the years only to constantly remind us of the good old days. Someday, these very days will be both good and old, and sports will still be there to remind us of the times we had and the friendships we shared.
As I head back into thin air tomorrow to begin the next chapter of my life in Colorado, I'd like to humbly impart a bit of wisdom upon my fellow departing Jumbos. The great Yogi Berra once said, "When you come to a fork in the road, take it." Regardless of your flatware preferences, the fork is upon us and we have but one thing to do. Thanks for reading.
Kristy Cunningham is a senior majoring in philosophy. She can be reached at kristen.cunningham@tufts.edu
