By wpengine March 18, 2004
Tragedy hit Schoellkopf Field yesterday afternoon when men’s lacrosse defenseman George Boiardi ’04 died during a game against Binghamton after he was struck in the chest by a ball shot by the Bearcats’ Nate Kerstein. At the time of the incident, the Red led, 9-6, with 2:33 remaining in the fourth quarter. The game was not completed. Kerstein, apparently taking a shot on goal, wound up and hit Boiardi right above his heart with the shot. Boiardi recoiled from the impact with both of his arms above his head before falling to the turf. Training staffs from both teams responded immediately with first aid. Officers from the Cornell University Police Department arrived three minutes later. While workers from the athletic training staff attended to Boiardi on the field, Schoellkopf Field fell silent, as Cornell players held hands, and their Binghamton opponents were on their knees. Paramedics arrived minutes later and administered CPR for over 10 minutes. Boiardi was later taken by a Bangs ambulance to Cayuga Medical Center, where he was pronounced dead at 6:44 p.m. A spokesperson from Cayuga Medical Center declined to comment. “I can confirm that [Boiardi] died,” said Simeon Moss, deputy director of the Cornell News Service. Boiardi was known for his speed and defensive leadership abilities on the field and guidance off it. Named one of four team captains this year, Boiardi made the successful transition from a longstick midfielder to a shortstick defenseman last season. He was a history major in the College of Arts and Sciences. Boiardi was an all-league selection as a member of Landon School’s lacrosse team during his senior year of high school in Bethesda, Md. He also played high school varsity football and hockey for four years each. “Cornell’s athletics community is absolutely devastated by this tragic loss. George was a terrific person, a great team leader, an excellent student and, in fact, he was one of the finest students at the University. This loss cannot be measured. Our hearts and prayers go out to George’s family, his friends and his teammates,” said J. Andrew Noel, director of athletics and physical education. According to Moss, Boiardi’s parents were contacted after the incident and were en route to Ithaca as of last night. The Division of Student and Academic Services is also coordinating support efforts surrounding the senior’s death. “A lot of University staff, including crisis counselors, [spoke] with players and other athletes who were around at the time [last night],” Moss said. Though the cause of death has not been determined, blunt, non-penetrating chest blows, such as the impact Boiardi suffered, can result in sudden cardiac death. As of 2001, there were 128 confirmed cases of such trauma, according to a study published in the March 6, 2002, edition of the Journal of the American Medical Association. In recent University history, Boiardi’s death is the first to have happened during competition. The last student-athlete who died was wrestler Scot Elwood ’06, who inadvertently fell to his death in the Fall Creek Gorge on Sept. 18, 2003. Another grappler, Graham B. Morin ’04, died on Nov. 25, 2000, during practice due to hypotrophic cardiomyopathy, a rare heart condition. Similarly, an enlarged heart condition killed swimmer Scott J. Paavola ’05 in his room on Oct. 15, 2002. “It’s incredibly sad, heart-breaking news,” Moss said of Boiardi’s death. Boiardi is survived by his parents Mario and Deborah, an older brother and a younger sister.Archived article by Sun Staff
By wpengine March 18, 2004
March Madness starts today. Do you have your bracket in? Across the country, millions of people are gearing up for what some call the greatest race to a championship in American sports. But there is something else better, at least in a way. I think the Iditarod is a little more hardcore, even if its Vegas line isn’t quite as big. I certainly watched it as closely as I could, considering four hours of time difference and absolutely no television coverage. Much like the NCAA Tourney, it’s all about having someone to watch, and wanting to be there. The Iditarod happens every year around this time on the trails between Anchorage and Nome, Alaska, covering 1,049 miles of snow-buried mountains, silent winter forests, frozen-solid rivers and rocky, windblown coastlines over two weeks. The winners make the trip in about eight or nine days, depending on the weather and conditions that year. To make the trip in that time the competitors launch themselves into a festival of dog care, movement, and enough sleep deprivation to make an architecture student cry, all so they can follow their canines through the Burled Arch in Nome. To get there, it takes an incredible amount of physical endurance, perseverance, and a good attitude. “The race is just as challenging mentally as it is physically,” said race veteran and Cornell junior Andy Moderow. “When mushers get discouraged, their dogs know it. One of the main responsibilities of a musher is to stay upbeat, and send good vibes to the dogs. This isn’t the easiest thing to do on 2 hours of sleep a day after 8 days on the trail.” A racer spends about half his day on the sled, and a good part of the rest taking care of his or her dogs and gear. So, while the dogs get a healthy days rest, the people average about four hours of sleep — although not all in one stretch — all the way to Nome. This leads to some interesting phenomena, such as falling asleep on the back of a dogsled, which, I’ve been told, can be a very bad thing. The dogs do not stop, you see, when a person falls off; they just keep going. This means an inopportune spill could result in a very long walk back to civilization — not a very pleasant prospect in the Alaska backcountry when it’s -50 degrees. But, despite the obstacles, every year more than sixty competitors sign up to make the trip. They train teams of 16 dogs to pull a sled through as many conditions as is possible, then brave the cold and solitude for a chance to complete the race. This year, I was watching Andy’s father Mark, a 53-year-old lawyer from Anchorage, racing in his first Iditarod with a team he and his family raised at their kennel, The Salty Dog Kennel, in their back yard. While Mark cannot execute an alley-oop or come from behind to defeat Duke (who wants them to win, anyway?), he does have something an NCAA bracket will not, a connection to Cornell through Andy and his sister, Hannah, a sophomore. The two kids were responsible, in a way, for getting him into this Iditarod thing. After competing in the junior version in high school, Andy took off a chunk of his senior year to train for and compete in the 2001 version of the race. Like Carmelo last year, Andy did about as well as he could for a rookie, finishing in 17th place, and inspiring his parents to take up the race. Last year Hannah and Andy’s mom, Debbie, competed in the race, covering 950 miles before she had to scratch on the Bering Sea coast due to high winds. Anything can happen on the trail. Obstacles include open rivers, cliffs, animals and storms. Every year Hannah and Andy tell me their mushing stories from break or from their parents, stories about moose encounters and catching air on a dog sled, about how to survive in the middle of nowhere when it’s really, really cold, and what it’s like to live with a bunch of dogs for two weeks. “The most important thing is the dogs,” said Hannah. “You really want to give them everything you have.” The canines are what drives the race, after all, they’re the players, the athletes. They run the hundred miles a day, burning 10,000 calories as they go, and they are the ones that are alone with you out in the woods. “It’s hard to really describe the race to people,” said Andy. “In some aspects I think people overestimate how difficult it is. That being said, it’s hard to explain to someone what it feels like to be 70 miles from the next civilized checkpoint, which is a ghost town.” But for all the dangers and the obstacles, it is rewarding, and that’s why the Moderows keep it up. When you read this, Mark will likely be traveling somewhere along the coast on his way to Nome, and I’ll probably be imagining what it would be like to be out there, in the cold in snow, alone on the ice, and fighting to get through the unknown. And I think that’s why I like to track the Iditarod so much, and why “The Last Great Race,” as it is called, might just be a little more interesting than the NCAA Championships. While I never made it past a little five on five in open gym during seventh grade, I still hope that one day I’ll make it up to Alaska and make the trip between Anchorage and Nome — so my little piece of the dream can be more than 69 choices in a bracket posted on a bulletin board in the office. Hey, a kid’s got to dream. With special thanks to Hannah and Andy Moderow for facts, figures, details, and stories.Archived article by Matt James