Tourney’s underbelly exposed

A week ago, Joe Campbell and the Bangor Rams earned an epic upset and won a state championship on a play even veteran basketball observers like University of Maine coach John Giannini called “the most exciting finish I’ve ever seen in a basketball game.”

This column is not about that win, nor the play that provided it.

It’s not about Deering, and it’s not about Bangor.

This column, unfortunately, is about jerks, louts, and boneheads.

It’s about fans.

First, let’s get something out of the way: Later that Saturday night, a number of Deering players – and apparently an assistant coach -decided that a bit of booze would take the sting out of that loss. Bad choice. But still, this column’s not about them. Not really.

It’s about this: Year by year, our little tourney loses a bit of its innocence. And that’s too bad.

On Saturday, the aftermath wasn’t pretty. One group of fans celebrated. Another didn’t. And then objects started flying out of the crowd. And sailing back.

There was only one thing that stood between Saturday night’s postgame scene taking the short stride from minor disturbance to major riot.

And it wasn’t the small group of Bangor’s finest who did what they could to keep the peace.

It was the fact that when the boneheads reached for something to throw, all they came up with was a few empty plastic bottles.

But believe this: If one of the boozed-up louts had happened to have a few more dangerous projectiles tucked into his coat pockets, those, too, could have been sailing onto the court. And likely would have. Did I say boozed-up louts? Forgive me.

But it’s true. A quick whiff of the high-octane fumes coming from some of the more … energetic … Deering fans confirmed that. And I’m not naive enough to believe that a similar tour of the home bleachers wouldn’t have turned up a few similarly fueled youths.

During the first quarter, three cops and a couple of auditorium security guards spent a heated 10 minutes trying to convince a few fans that the fact that they were obstructing other fans’ views was, in fact, a problem.

And you know what? The scene wasn’t even that rare. Session by session, game by game (and especially once the bigger Class A schools headed to the old barn), the tourney mood … darkened.

On Saturday, things nearly got out of hand. And no matter what the police and the tournament committee tried to do, the entire situation was out of their hands.

Sure, a few changes could have reduced the risk. Like throwing the visibly drunk fans out before they had a chance to cause trouble. … Or, better yet, not even letting them into the building.

Trust me: It wouldn’t have taken a Breathalyzer to figure out which fans to target. All it would have taken was a nose and some common sense.

Or they could have told the fans that decided to stand in front of the bleachers to find a seat.

For much of the months of February and March, fans head to Bangor for the tourney, and people who write about the games wax nostalgic about the scenes that unfold.

On Saturday, the underbelly of the tourney was exposed, like it is a couple of times a year. And it wasn’t pretty.

When it comes right down to it, responsibility for the Saturday night scene rests with one group.

Blame the fans. Make that the student fans.

All of them? No way. But enough of them to make a difference.

Saturday’s game was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A keeper.

But don’t let anyone tell you it was perfect. Some boneheads made sure it wasn’t.

John Holyoke is a NEWS sportswriter. His e-mail address is jholyoke@bangordailynews.net