Well, I finally did it. Against all odds, and in desperate need of a better excuse for not writing on my blog, I got a job. Starting Monday April 13, I’m going to be a reporter for the Norwood Record, located in the town of Norwood, just south of Boston. This has clearly been a long time coming, and, depending on my workload, it may mean that I’ll be spending less time on the blog, and more time getting paid. It’s an okay deal, in my mind.

Aside from the workload, I’m not sure what this actually means for the future of the site. I don’t want to consciously change my content to any extent, but I really don’t want to lose my job because of anything I write on this site. In all likelihood, this will probably be one of, if not the, only times I’m actually going to write about my work, unless something epic happens that absolutely must be related.

But I’m not starting the job until next Monday, so why is it going to be quiet this week? Well, two reasons. I’m flying home tomorrow (Tuesday) morning to get my car, and I’m going to spend all of Wednesday bombing up the east coast to Washington, DC, because this weekend is the NCAA Frozen Four at the Verizon Center. I’ve got my ticket, got a couch to crash on, and I’m hungry for a national championship.

On a related note, the Hobey Baker (College Hockey’s Heisman) finalists were named on Friday. The three finalists include BU’s own Matt Gilroy and Colin Wilson, as well as former-Northeastern (he just jumped ship for the Penguins) goalie Brad Thiessen. I’m a little worried that vote splitting between the two terriers might work in Thiessen’s favor, but Gilroy absolutely deserves this award. Dude’s been the heart and soul of the team, and the fact that we’re in D.C. while Northeastern is back in Roxbury can only help us.

Some form of post-game recap will surely be forthcoming, most likely to be written in an unintelligle string of vowels.

This is Matt Gilroy. He’s the Senior co-captain of the Boston University Men’s Hockey Team. He’s the only player to named an All-American in the last two seasons, and is well on his way to the third. He’s currently one of ten finalists for the Hobey Baker Award (along with fellow Terrier Colin Wilson), awarded to the best player in the country. He was profiled in the New York Times earlier this year (the source of the above photo).

Tomorrow, he will be leading the Terriers into the first game of the 2009 NCAA tournament against Ohio State in Machester, New Hampshire. As of right now, BU is the number one overall seed in the tournament, after winning three regular season tournaments (including the Beanpot), claiming the regular season championship, Hockey East regular season championship, and the Hockey East Championship.

I’m going to be there.

The last time we were in this position was my freshman year. We had claimed all the same honors and were playing in Worcester, Mass. We took the bus out to the first game, where we destroyed the University of Nebraska-Omaha in a 9-2 victory. That became a night of infamy for the BU program, because when we got on the bus for the second game the next night, against Boston College (possibly the biggest rivalry in college hockey) we were informed that any swearing at the game could result in a bench minor penalty for the team. Turns out that cheering “Fuck ‘em up, Fuck ‘em up, BC Sucks” for every goal (cumulatively, so we cheered it nine times on the ninth goal) and for every power play can get you into trouble with the NCAA. That was the end of “the cheer” for BU, which became the subject of Rick Reilly column in Sports Illustrated.

We then lost 2-1 to BC. That was the longest bus ride home I’ve ever taken.

This year, we’ve been absolutely dominant all season. We’ve won every game that we needed to win, and I have so much faith in this team to bring home the National Championship. If that happens, that will give my two teams (the other being UF) five national championships, in three sports, over the last four years. Additionally, three of those would have come at the expense of Ohio State.

This is going to be a long weekend, but it will be worth it.

Apologies to anyone who considers themselves a regular reader of this site. I’m probably not going to do an “I Hate Peter Travers” this weekend (an action that will surely send shockwaves across the very fabric of the internet), because this is going to be an absolutely insane weekend, beginning in just a few hours.

(Before I get to the upcoming festivities, a request. I spent roughly six hours at City Hall yesterday, including travel, to cover a meeting of the Boston Redevelopment Authority. It was a long tedious process, so I’d appreciate you reading my work.)

First thing on the agenda is a BU hockey game at Merrimack. Coach Jack Parker is going for his 800th win against the perennial basement dwellers of Hockey East. The Terriers have been on a serious tear this year, and I hope they don’t end up looking too far forward to the Beanpot (see below) without taking care of business here first. This will also be my first away game, so there’s that.

Tomorrow is going to be an absurd night of metal. Kevin and I are getting a zipcar and driving to the Palladium in Worcester to see Unearth, Every Time I Die, Sick Of It All, Emmure, Impending Doom and Born of Osiris. We will have our faces rocked into our asses. Afterward we’re going to Denny’s.

Sunday is, of course, the Super Bowl. Supposedly there’s going to be Chili and Gumbo on tap, along with plenty of Molson for a night of gluttony and sloth. My prediction? Steelers win 24-14.

Monday will cap off this weekend of insanity with the Beanpot. If you’re not from the Boston area, the beanpot is an annual college hockey tournament held at the Garden between BU, BC, Harvard, and Northeastern. BU has won it more times than the other three teams combined, but Northeastern is looking good this year. Fortunately, we get Harvard in the first round, but we will be sticking around for the BC vs. Northeastern game. The Greatest Bar in Boston (actual name) is opening at 2 for a game that starts at 5. We’re thinking about camping outside.

If you never hear from me again this weekend. Know that I died well.