It's not often that columnists get to add to their print product, but fortunately for me The Sports Beacon allows me to do just that.
I did go into last night's contest between NIU and Western Michigan with an open mind. I was willing to be awed by 9,000 strong at the Convocation Center. But after spending four hours around the campus prior to the game, I got a real sense that that wasn't going to happen.
So what do I do? ...
Read on for more, and the entire poem by Robert Frost...
In my brief time there, I could feel the closeness of the campus - from the students in the McDonald's I sat at for 20 minutes, to my tour of the Psych building, to Ed Hansen and Jessica Hartnett, to the strangers I saw interacting everywhere I went...it was very, very apparent that this community did not need Tuesday night's game to bring them together.
They were already there, or at the very least on their way.
So, that's the angle I took. And I hate to say it, but it was somewhat confirmed when only a few hundred people showed up at the game (I know the official attendance was around 2,000, but I doubt that). The campus didn't feel a need to connect through sport.
That's not to diminish what those in attendance did feel by going. If I were a student, I would have went. I believe strongly in the ability of sporting events to draw people together, to act as a healing mechanism. I just felt that there was another story to be told last night.
Now, to the poem - blame my alma mater North Central College for that one (ha!) Seriously, I love Robert Frost and Winter Eden is one of my all time favorites. When I was walking around campus, observing, it was one of the first things that came to mind. So, I referenced it.
Then I thought - how many people are going to get a Robert Frost reference? So, I felt Robert wouldn't mind if I helped people along a bit by quoting him, wich in the end just made the whole piece work a bit better.
I certainly hope you feel the same way...
A Winter Eden
by Robert Frost
A winter garden in an alder swamp,
Where conies now come out to sun and romp,
As near a paradise as it can be
And not melt snow or start a dormant tree.
It lifts existence on a plane of snow
One level higher than the earth below,
One level nearer heaven overhead,
And last year's berries shining scarlet red.
It lifts a gaunt luxuriating beast
Where he can stretch and hold his highest feat
On some wild apple tree's young tender bark,
What well may prove the year's high girdle mark.
So near to paradise all pairing ends:
Here loveless birds now flock as winter friends,
Content with bud-inspecting. They presume
To say which buds are leaf and which are bloom.
A feather-hammer gives a double knock.
This Eden day is done at two o'clock.
An hour of winter day might seem too short
To make it worth life's while to wake and sport.
Rick Armstrong 
Jim Owczarski 
Mike Knapp 
Todd M. Adams 
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