(Editor’s Note: The following post is written by longtime journalism colleague, Paul Beaudry, whom I worked with ages [and ages] ago at the Ypsilanti [MI] Press, a newspaper that hasn’t existed in decades. Paul posted this on Facebook and I felt it captured the spirit of what I’m striving to do here at The Sports Fan Project. All sports fans have these memories and emotions tied to moments and I aim to continue to provide an opportunity for anyone who wishes to share them. If you have a reflection, essay, Haiku, or any other thing tied to your sports fandom you’d like to share with a wider audience please contact me at hilldouglast@gmail.com.)

• For context, the Western Michigan University Broncos play the Boston University Terriers in the 2025 NCAA Men’s Frozen Four Championship in St. Louis, MO. It is Western Michigan’s first-ever appearance in the title game.

As a someone tied to the Western Michigan hockey program during my undergrad years as a broadcaster, writer, public address announcer, and rink rat custodian, I’m just stoked to see the Broncos in Saturday’s NCAA championship against Boston University.

But there are a couple of reasons this weekend is special.

The first comes nearly 50 years ago and my only other trip to a title game. My dad worked in advertising for Michigan’s largest department store, J.L. Hudson’s, and getting sports tickets was not uncommon. This time, it was to see Michigan play Wisconsin at Detroit’s Olympia Stadium for all the marbles in the 1977 Championship.

As someone who, truthfully, probably became a Michigan fan to harass my Sparty father, this was a big deal. Only problem was Michigan didn’t play like it was and trailed, 5-2, early in the third. But they rallied in a furious third period to tie it, 5-5, and send the game to overtime.

“Get your coat, we’re going,” said my dad.

Ummmm, ‘scuse me?

“I don’t want to get caught in traffic. We’re going.”

Protests were futile, we were gone – made more frustrating because I couldn’t find the game on the radio. I got home to find out Michigan lost – 23 seconds into OT.

As a 15-year-old into hockey, I was crushed. (David Soul‘s, “Don’t Give Up on Us,” was playing on the car radio during that drive. I still think of that game when I hear it.) I got over it.

The second came in 1983. I had just graduated a couple weeks before and was headed to Boston over a New Year’s Eve weekend as a last hurrah to broadcast the game on WIDR-FM, where I’d done a slew of games over the previous 4 1/2 years.

It was a great trip. I stayed in the Parker House, enjoyed many beverages at Friar Tuck’s in downtown Boston and got to cover the twinbill against Boston University and legendary coach Jackie Parker.

As the first game started out, Western got caught with a little home cooking from the officials and was understandably frustrated.

At one point my broadcast partner, the late Tom Skinner, opened the window to our broadcast booth, stuck his head out and yelled to the officials, “HEY REF!!! OPEN YOUR EYES!!! YOU’RE MISSING A GREAT GAME!!!!”

The referee blew his whistle, looked up at Tuff, looked over to the Western bench, looked back up to the box, and skated over to coach Bill Wilkinson for a little chat.

It seemed he thought Skinner was a coach and was set to give Western a penalty but wanted to talk to Wilkie first.

As this is going on, Skinner is bright red, realized he’d overstepped, and told me, “don’t you dare say a word about what’s going on” because he doesn’t want anyone back in Kalamazoo to know. So I have to fill time during a delay, but not say why we’re delayed. A true WTF moment.

No penalty was called and it all worked out after longtime BU Sports Information Director Ed Carpenter came over to tell Tuff that he shouldn’t do it again because if he does, the officials will throw us out and give Western a bench major.

The game is over, we get back on the bus, and instead of being down from the 8-3 loss, all anyone wanted to know is what Skinner said to the officials. He was a freakin’ hero for saying what they couldn’t. (Epilogue: I got in the car after the return flight just in time to hear Detroit Lions’ Eddie Murray miss a game-winning field goal against San Francisco in a playoff game. But enough disappointment.)

So Saturday night, when I wear my jersey and inevitably turn off the TV during rough patches in the game to change the mojo, I’ll think of my dad and I’ll think of my friend. Both are gone to a better place, but I’m in a better place for having known them.

Fight on, fight on for Western.