Read the Summer 2012 issue - the University of Maine Alumni ...

Dunham ’94 and Garth Snow ’92, ’94G
stepped forward, as did Jim Montgomery
’93, Dave LaCouture ’99, Cal Ingraham ’94,
and Michel Latendresse ’95. This line
followed me to the ICU, laughing nervously.
I stopped at the ICU doors to
prepare them for what they were about to
experience.
Braving the ICU
“These children are our sickest patients.
You will see monitors and hear alarms.
Some children are intubated, which means
they are breathing with the help of a respirator.
Some will be getting oxygen through
a mask. You can talk with the patients and
family members.” I smiled at these now
very young-looking guys. Most, if not all of
them, had never done this before. “The
children and their families will appreciate
your visit.”
They nodded, serious now. I hit the
automatic door opener. The double doors
blew open. Monitors flashed. Alarms
beeped. Medical staff in scrubs and white
coats conferred at the center station,
surrounded by individual rooms with
beds, patients, IVs, tubes, monitors,
oxygen, bandages and respirators. Patients
who were able, smiled at the visitors.
Family members perked up and welcomed
the athletes to their bed spaces.
The guys chatted with patients and
autographed pictures. Staff stopped writing
in charts long enough to meet them,
too. We headed back to join their teammates,
leaving behind us a trail of smiles,
having given families a momentary respite.
Years later, I watched Into the Woods, a
film about this team’s run to the Frozen
Four. In one scene, Walsh uses the image of
one of the patients they had visited, bald
from chemo treatments, to inspire his players
to continue to play through adversity.
The Centrum was sold out that night.
My husband, Chris, managed to acquire
tickets. He knew I needed to see this game,
whatever it took! The seats turned out to be
a few rows behind the Black Bears’ bench.
The players seemed more confident, larger,
and more powerful on the ice. Quick and
focused, they handled the puck with ease,
passing to one another in warm-ups. I felt
proud of each of them. Coach Walsh, looking
intense and dressed in navy jacket and
a tie, stood behind his players. They beat
Minnesota 6-2 that night. They would
advance to the Frozen Four, a first for the
University of Maine.
A few days later, the Hobey Baker
Memorial Award was presented to the first
freshman in collegiate hockey history. The
recipient was none other than the eighteenyear-old
with the shy smile who had
accompanied me to the ICU: Paul Kariya.
On April 3, 1993, the Maine Black Bears
captured their first national nCAA Division
I hockey championship. The State of
Maine erupted in joy and celebration.
Adversity and inspiration
Eight years later, in March 2001, Chris and I
returned to the nCAA hockey quarterfinals
in Worcester. On this night, my
University of Maine Black Bears were
matched against the Boston College Eagles.
In the interim years, an nCAA investigation
of university athletics had found violations
at Maine and had placed a ban on
post-season tournamant. Walsh had been
suspended for one year. Despite this, he
had remained at Maine, guiding the Black
Bears to four more Frozen Four tournaments
and coaching yet another team to an
nCAA championship in 1999.
We watched the Black Bears with
excitement and pride. On the bench,
behind his players, was Shawn Walsh.
nine months before, he had been diagnosed
with kidney cancer. He had spoken
candidly to the press about his surgery and
treatments. Despite all he had gone
through in recent months, Walsh was here
tonight with the same passion he always
brought to the game.
Twelve thousand fans packed the
Centrum that night. The teams played with
speed and intensity. With 2:29 minutes left in
the final period, the referee issued Walsh a 10-
minute misconduct. He was ejected from the
game. Jacket off, shirtsleeves rolled up, he
walked off the ice at the corner of the rink
opposite us. The crowd went wild as the play
resumed and the clock ticked down. I spotted
SUMMER 2012 21