It's not frozen in time

They range in age from 22 to 53, but these Harvard men -- former goalie Joe Bertagna, first-year coach Ted Donato, and current captain Noah Welch -- all have the same story. It is a tale of street hockey, in Arlington, Dedham, and Brighton, matches in which they and their boyhood buddies battled for mythical Beanpots. The games, though, did little to influence their college choices.

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"In street hockey, it was BC and BU, not Harvard," said Bertagna.

"Many a street hockey game was played when the neighborhood kids were BC and BU," said Donato. "We didn't pick Harvard much back then."

"We usually switched around," said Welch, "but I couldn't say it was always Harvard, to be honest."

Despite the lack of allegiance back then, the three now share a connection that binds generations of players, families, coaches, and fans to the Beanpot, the annual February gathering that returns tomorrow for its 53d year to celebrate tradition and the pursuit of Boston bragging rights.

"We don't have to be called the `Tostitos Beanpot,' " said former Harvard coach Bill Cleary. "I hope it never goes that way. It's a great amateur event. It's the best tournament of its kind."

Yet for all the feel-good fuzziness and age-of-innocence nostalgia that the Beanpot evokes, the tournament has evolved from 1955, when Cleary won the MVP award, from 1990, when he last coached Harvard, and even from 2001, when he retired as athletic director. The magical aura (and questionable aroma) of Boston Garden has been absent since 1995. Tomorrow, most fans will trickle into the FleetCenter around the third period of the 5 p.m. game between Harvard and Northeastern.

And while local players like Welch are still living their Beanpot dreams, there are fewer of his kind. While the four teams still recruit the 18-year-old Massachusetts public high school graduate, a more common target now is the polished, 21-year-old, out-of-state freshman who has played on junior clubs for two seasons.

"That bothers me," Cleary said. "It bothers me because it's getting farther from what college athletics is supposed to be. I know I'm kind of a Neanderthal. But now they tell a kid after they get through school to go play junior for one or two years. Before you know it, they're 21 entering as a freshman, and that means they're 24 or 25 when they're a senior.

"What happens to the kid from Melrose High School or Belmont Hill when he's 17? Can he compete against those kids? I don't know how this trend started and I don't know where it emanated from, but I don't think it's a good thing."

Magic Garden The rink was hot. The ice was terrible. At best, the sheet was 80 feet wide.

And that wasn't even the bad part. In the stands, knees bumped against chairbacks and shoes stuck to the floor.

It made no difference. Boston Garden was the office of Schmidt, Orr, and Esposito, the place where every local kid -- and many from other countries -- dreamed of playing one day. The name of the 9-year-old Canadian boy has slipped Cleary's mind, but he remembers the scene clearly. It was 1975, and former Harvard player Steven Janicek had invited his parents and brother to the Beanpot. During the championship game against Boston University, Cleary allowed Janicek's brother to hand water to his players on the bench.

At the end of the period, as the team headed for the locker room, the boy stopped at center ice, looked down at the Bruins logo and, oblivious to the 13,909 fans, pretended to face off against an imaginary opponent.

"The kid had seen that emblem on `Hockey Night in Canada' for so many years," Cleary recalled. "That said it all."

Today, players and coaches praise the FleetCenter for its expansive locker rooms and smoother ice. Several thousand additional fans can fit into the building, and they don't require Pilates training to fit into the seats. But there was something about the old rink's intimacy and the way in which fans seemed to sit on top of the ice that made a Beanpot in the Garden unique.

"The atmosphere was electric," recalled BU coach Jack Parker, whose first Beanpot experience was in 1966. "I really think that, as a sophomore, I was almost taken aback by it instead of ready for it."

Parker actually saw his first Beanpot as a freshman (first-year students were not allowed to play varsity hockey then). He was more of a basketball fan, visiting the Garden to watch Bob Cousy and Bill Russell. But the spectacle of 13,909 hockey fans looming over the ice and cheering on BC and BU in the final (the Terriers lost to John Cunniff and the Eagles, 5-4) left Parker with one motivation: to get onto the Garden ice and play in the Beanpot.

In the past few years, as he participated in the design of Agganis Arena, Parker toured dozens of newer college and pro rinks to study characteristics he wanted in his new facility. But the Garden was perhaps Parker's biggest influence. One of his primary goals was to replicate the on-top-of-the-ice feel for the fans, which they had to some extent at Walter Brown Arena.

"One thing we made sure of was that we didn't lose what Boston lost going from the Garden to the Fleet," Parker said. "We didn't want to lose what we had from Walter Brown to Agganis."

Crowd control To Welch's best recollection, he was 7 when he joined his brother and friends for his first Beanpot game.

"It was packed," Welch said. "The Garden atmosphere was great. I remember waiting for the Bruins to come out, and when they never came out, I was disappointed. But I saw the actual game and thought, `This is even better.' "

At least he had a ticket that time. For his next Beanpot, several years later, Welch sneaked into the Garden with some friends, a tradition that continued several times at the FleetCenter, too.

BU sophomore Kenny Roche, a South Boston native, attended his first Beanpot at the Garden with his father. It was a BC-BU game, and ever since, Roche wanted to become a Terrier and play in the Beanpot. BC sophomore Brian Boyle, who was raised in Hingham, went to the Garden and the FleetCenter with his father and brothers and always wanted to become an Eagle.

However, Parker believes that in the last 10 years, it's been harder for local families and fans to secure tickets. He compares the Beanpot crowd to the Opening Day gathering at Fenway Park.

"I think what's changed the Beanpot the most is who goes, and that to me is what's a shame," Parker said. "It's become such a social event. People who are not college hockey fans but have to be at all the social events get tickets, and the people who go to 10 games each year can't get in."

As a result, the first two periods of tomorrow's early game will not be crowded, and next week's consolation game will draw even fewer fans. Parker even thinks that toward the end of tomorrow's BU-BC match, empty seats will begin to appear.

"It will start emptying out halfway through the third, no matter what the score is," Parker predicted. "They just want to say they went to the Beanpot."

Older if not better Like Roche, BU's Jekabs Redlihs grew up in a snowbound Northern city next to a river. However, the river is the Daugava, the city is Riga, and "Beanpot" meant nothing to the Latvian until his arrival in Boston his freshman year. Now a junior, he has grown to understand its meaning, but there was a time when nearly every player at the four schools knew all about the Beanpot and its history.

When Boston College coach Jerry York, a Watertown native, was captain of the 1967 BC squad, all but three players were from Massachusetts. John "Snooks" Kelley, who coached BC from 1932-42 and from 1946-72, said he wanted local kids who delivered Sunday newspapers and took Massachusetts girls to their high school proms. That philosophy has since changed so that York now has seven Massachusetts natives on his roster, which includes forward Dave Spina from Arizona and goalie Matti Kaltiainen from Finland.

While BC has seen the most dramatic shift in roster demographics over the last four decades, the makeup of the three other schools' rosters has evolved as well. BU, Harvard, and Northeastern have always recruited Canadians and other out-of-staters as well as local players, but now their freshmen are several years older than they were even 10 years ago. Many first-year college players have played pro-style schedules, competed in international tournaments, and are more developed physically than the average collegian, especially the ones who played alongside Parker and York.

"There's no question that our league in particular and college hockey in general has gotten older, and I don't think it's a good thing," Parker said. "It's a little unfair to ask an 18-year-old to compete against a 25-year-old."

Of BU's 11 freshmen, three played at least one year of junior hockey; 21-year-old goalie Karson Gillespie played three junior seasons in Manitoba and Alberta. BC senior Andrew Alberts, 23, played two junior seasons, as did 24-year-old Northeastern senior Jon Awe, while 24-year-old Husky senior Tim Judy played in three. Harvard goalie Dov Grumet-Morris, who will turn 23 at the end of the month, skated for a junior team for one year.

At Northeastern, senior Donny Grover is an exception. The 22-year-old Rockland native went directly from Catholic Memorial to college, playing in all 39 games as a first-year blue liner.

"It's harder and harder for kids to make the jump from high school or the Catholic Conference to play right away," said NU coach Bruce Crowder. "It's the odd kid who can do it."

Generally, the elite teams nab the highly touted high school-age players who can transition to the college game. In turn, the second-tier schools sign older players who, although perhaps lacking the skill of their younger opponents, trump them in age, size, and experience.

It's a trend that Bill Hanson, Grover's coach at CM, doesn't like. The boys who once played for him -- admittedly, the ones who enrolled at CM instead of their public high schools -- now have several alternatives that college coaches, pro scouts, and family advisers tout as better routes to a Division 1 scholarship:

A four-year career at a prep school, whereas the more common scenario in years past was for a high school grad to take a postgraduate year.

A year or two in the Eastern Junior Hockey League, the North American Hockey League, or the United States Hockey League, the three major junior leagues in the country.

Or even one or two seasons with the National Team Development Program, USA Hockey's feeder club in Ann Arbor, Mich., that has 10 graduates playing in this year's Beanpot (NTDP players, however, must be under 18).

"Coaches are saying, `Why should I take an 18-year-old when I can take a 20-year-old out of junior and have two more years to see the kid develop?' It's hurting high school hockey," said Hanson. "There's no question about that."

The effect on the Beanpot is twofold. First, the local player who played public high school hockey one year and in the Beanpot the following season has become a rarity. Second, the older players (as well as the increased number of out-of-staters) have altered the boyish innocence of the tournament.

"There's more of a sense of immediacy when you're a 17- or 18-year-old freshman," said Bertagna. "You're more easily excitable versus a 21-year-old who's played 70 games in the Midwest the last two years."

Donato, the Dedham native who played for CM one year and in the Beanpot the next, still thinks that local players have the opportunity to play in the tournament. "I think we're seeing the same kid, but a year later," said Donato. "I like to think that the opportunity is still there for local guys to compete in the Beanpot for one of the Boston schools.

"Those are the people who hold the values of the Beanpot closest to their hearts. Maybe the kid will alter his road in how he gets to the Beanpot, but he'll still show up on the blue line with the same dreams as the kid 15 years ago and still hold the flag for his local community."

Some things never change

In his first Beanpot game in 1966, Parker recalls being too nervous to perform at his best. The jittery sophomore was matched against Cunniff, BC's top-line forward, whose line scored twice against Parker's trio to give the Eagles a two-goal lead. But BU goalie Jack Ferreira sparked a comeback with a stunning save, and the Terriers rebounded to score a 6-4 win. BU defeated Harvard in the final, 9-2. "I was too nervous, too jacked up to play," Parker said. "It wasn't that I was nervous to make a mistake, but it was almost like I had stage fright."

Thirty-six years later, another eventual captain prepared for his first Beanpot. Welch, a freshman in 2002, was always calm before his games; the last time he felt anxious was before his first varsity game at St. Sebastian's. But as he stepped onto the ice at the FleetCenter during warmups, he could barely put one leg before another.

"I couldn't even skate," Welch recalled. "I was really nervous. I was looking around and all the emotions were coming at me at once."

Teammate Kenny Smith pulled him aside. He reminded Welch, whose brother had recently had a son, that a new uncle wasn't expected to disappoint his nephew, who was attending his first Beanpot. Welch's legs started working again.

"When I was playing, the most important thing was to play in the Beanpot," said Parker. "In the '70s, the most important thing was to play in the Beanpot. Today, kids still think the most important thing is to play in the Beanpot."