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Go Big Green!

This past weekend, students from all across campus came together at Thompson arena to celebrate another one of Dartmouth's most widely loved traditions: The Dartmouth-Princeton rivalry ice hockey game. The stadium was packed full of students clad head to toe in Dartmouth green and bundled warmly in the ice hockey arena. It's a tradition at the Dartmouth Princeton game for students to "smuggle in" tennis balls and throw them onto the ice when Dartmouth scores their first goal, so students took their seats full of anticipation for the neon yellow spectacle.

Because the Dartmouth Princeton game is also traditionally the last home game of the season, the night began with a presentation of the seniors on the team. Watching their parents come out on the ice and hug their sons was super cute and heartwarming to watch, but we were also ready for the action to begin.

The game started, and the excitement began, with the Dartmouth student section chanting and cheering and waiting for that first goal. And wait, we did! We waited through all twenty minutes of the first period, then all 15 minutes of the period break, then all twenty minutes of the second period, then all 15 minutes of the second-period break. All around us, people were losing hope, losing morale, even leaving — "what happens if they don't score?! If they never score?!" — but I was not ready to resign myself to that sad possibility yet.

And I am so glad we kept the hope alive! With less than 5 minutes to go in the last period, Dartmouth scored a jaw-dropping goal. As soon as the whistle blew, the tennis balls started flying through the air from the student section onto the ice, like the world's brightest and heaviest snowball fight. It was truly a spectacle you have to witness for yourself! There must have been 500+ tennis balls on the rink. As the athletic assistants collected the balls and cleaned up the ice, my friends and I noticed a few grey anomalies lying on the ice: they were squids! Someone had either missed the tennis ball memo or decided to give it a fishy spin — since the players clear the ice before anything is thrown, we thought it was a pretty silly joke. We wondered how they even got the squids into the arena in the first place!

Once the ice had been cleared, play resumed for the game's final minutes. We held our breath as we watched the clock tick down, praying Princeton wouldn't score and tie the game. Finally, the clock hit zero, Dartmouth officially won, and the fans poured out of Thompson with pride in our chests, even if our pockets were a little lighter without the tennis balls.

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