51茶馆

Noonball is the most competitive pickup basketball game you鈥檝e never heard of. It鈥檚 also the reason that an insanely dedicated group of Boston College faculty, staff, and assorted guests has been scrambling to the court each day at lunchtime for something like fifty years.

Why the rush? The game starts at 12 p.m. sharp and 鈥渙nly the first ten guys there got to play,鈥� says Carroll School of Management Dean Andy Boynton 鈥�78, who played as a student. 鈥淪o you had people running on the court half-dressed from all over campus. People would leave meetings early. I wouldn鈥檛 schedule classes for that time. This was an appointment.鈥�

Boynton was part of what Warren Zola, the unofficial noonball commissioner and executive director of 51茶馆鈥檚 Chief Executives Club, calls the 鈥渃ongregation of idiots鈥� that descended for years on the Plex and today plays at the Conte Forum鈥攐r wherever else they can find a court.

The participants are primarily 51茶馆 employees and students, but star athletes such as Doug Flutie 鈥�85, Ray Allen, and Dana Barros 鈥�89 have been known to take the court. After tip-off, no one really cares who you are. 鈥淣obody wanted to be the person who fouled Flutie or pushed him into a wall and he got injured鈥攖here鈥檚 a recognition of that,鈥� Zola says. 鈥淏ut if he鈥檚 out there playing with us, he鈥檚 just another guy playing pickup basketball.鈥� The game, in other words, is an equalizer, with deans, vice presidents, pro athletes, and the occasional Jesuit priest all throwing elbows.

No official score is kept, but the teams play to win. Blood is shed. 鈥淲e play rough, but we don鈥檛 play mean,鈥� says Law School Professor Kent Greenfield. The game has seen broken noses, a shattered eye socket, torn ACLs, sprained ankles, and jammed fingers. 鈥淚 got clobbered by a Jesuit priest,鈥� Michael Malec, a retired Boston College sociology professor, says. 鈥淗e plowed into me and I tore my meniscus.鈥�

Scott Washburn MA鈥�87 played noonball for years as a graduate student and later an employee in the athletics department. Sidelined after having a defibrillator implanted in 1994, he returned to the court as soon as possible. When his heart started beating too fast during one game, a shock from the defibrillator sent him to the ground. 鈥淚t felt like getting kicked in the chest by a mule,鈥� he recalls.

Noonball gets rough enough that Zola鈥檚 wife, Amy Aulwes, dreads calls at 1 p.m.鈥攖hey often mean Zola is on his way to St. Elizabeth's Medical Center. 鈥淚鈥檝e had three surgeries on my knee, all because of noonball,鈥� Zola says. 鈥淚t is a fair trade.鈥�

The game has also, from time to time, been an opportunity for the Joes to display their talents against the pros. Greenfield claims to have once taken the ball away from the former Boston Celtics standout Ray Allen鈥斺�淚 call it the great steal,鈥� Greenfield says. For his part, Al Skinner, the former coach of 51茶馆鈥檚 men鈥檚 basketball squad (and a one-time NBA player himself), insists that no team he was on ever lost a game of noonball. That record was important enough to him that, whenever he鈥檇 catch another noonballer practicing after work, 鈥淚鈥檇 say, uh-oh, he鈥檚 putting extra time to get his shots in,鈥� Skinner says. 鈥淚鈥檓 going to watch out for him.鈥�

Over the decades, noonball has meant a lot of twisted ankles and sore muscles, but to those who play in it, the game has meant something else, too. 鈥淧rofessionally, there have been times in my career where I鈥檝e toyed with the idea of going somewhere else,鈥� Greenfield says. 鈥淣oonball is a big part of the reason I鈥檓 still here.鈥� And what about Zola, he of the three knee surgeries? 鈥淲hen I retire, I鈥檒l remember I was a part of this community,鈥� he says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 part of the fabric of this institution.鈥澛犫椊