Stop, Drop, and Lowell

Your superiors enjoy our annual trip to Lowell for many reasons. Despite the fact that U.Mass-Lowell's fans know their season is long over, the great unwashed at Tsongas Arena still manage to get as much enjoyment out of a UML hockey game as they do when their unemployment compensation is extended another six weeks.

This past weekend, the people you wish you were took a ride to the "House that the Pine Street Inn built" to watch America's Team roll the Riverhawks like a Lawrence Street prostitute. With the game's result long decided, your superiors engaged ourselves in a chat noting the crowd gathered at the rink was more suited for a swarm around a trash can fire than a sporting event.

In all fairness, we have several employees who work along the grounds of Stately Pinhead Manor who own U.Mass-Lowell degrees, so it's with little pleasure that we mention these poor souls in such a way. When our driver pulled off the highway and we entered the City of Lowell, it was obvious that social evolution didn't spend much time in this Hooverville along the Merrimack River.


After paying the insurance deductible, the cost of attending a game at U.Mass-Lowell is approximately $500 plus the cost of game tickets.

Once our party arrived at Tsongas Arena, our true bewilderment of the Lowell fan became evident. With America's Team in attendance, the rink was naturally filled, albeit with fans who had more tattoos than teeth and where a police rap sheet with less than ten arrests makes one a social samaritan.

Between periods, the gracious hosts awarded a lucky street person with a new home, a sporty 2007 SUV that left an oil spot on the ice larger than the average blood stain on the dormitory floors of Fox Hall. With the between period entertainment over and the last WIC Check dropped from the radio controlled blimp, it was time to focus on the clientele.

As your superiors have discussed on several occasions, each Hockey East fan base has a distinct characteristic. BU coeds were the inspiration for Disney's "Free Willy" trilogy while a trip to Durham, NH leaves one wondering who won the Civil War. At Lowell, folks with any social glitterati wonder if Lowell fans will eventually become extinct as none of those witnessed appear capable of finding a mate to perpetuate the species.


UML's fan club, "The Blue Balls Group", will always be present at all Riverhawk games to intimidate visiting teams, unless Sci-Fi moves "Battlestar Galactica" to Friday nights.

It appears that years of "Dungeons and Dragons", countless hours of watching "Lord of the Rings", and three trips a day to the land of masturbation have left our friends from the Lowell with permanent 'red stripe' tattoos across their palms and the word "unlayable" across their foreheads. Sadly, judging by the physical attributes and attitudes of Lowell fans, the object of their desire is likely Lowell coach Blaise McDonald or the parents of forward Jason Tejchma.

As the game wore down towards another Boston College victory, our gilded trio called for the car to swing around and pick us up for the return trip to the Manor. While heading out of town, looking out the window at several strange looking men toting weapons, we were reminded of the last scene in "Platoon" when the tired soldiers were airlifted out of the war zone.

As we approached the gates to the Manor, the phone rang and on the other end of the phone was one of our drones assigned to Hampton Tolls in New Hampshire. According to our spy to the north, the evidence was clear, the hillbillies were on their way to Chestnut Hill...


UNH fans will be heading down to Chestnut Hill this weekend in preparation for another painful postseason.

Collar Up.