No. 198 – Dreamline

Performer: Rush

Songwriters: Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, Neil Peart

Original Release: Roll the Bones

Year: 1991

Definitive Version: Anything live.

For more than a decade, Rush played this song on every tour. Then, a decade ago, they stopped. I never understood this; I guess the boys just don’t like it that much.

It can’t be from fan reaction, because the last time I heard Rush play Dreamline, at Riverbend in Cincinnati in 2002, I was pleasantly surprised by the reaction, which was exceeded only by that for Tom Sawyer and 2112. I had no idea so many people liked it.

I guess Rush played it at some point on the recent Clockwork Angels tour, because it’s a listed track on their new live album, which comes out today, so maybe they’ll bring it back full time next go-round. If not, it’s apropos that the last time I heard it live was with Scott, because I can’t hear it and not think of him.

If asked, he probably would agree that Moving Pictures is his favorite Rush album—how can it not be for any Rush fan? But I would bet that whereas I would list Presto as my second favorite, Scott definitely would name Roll the Bones. I remember him telling me how those songs spoke to him on some level. I get that, because the timing of its arrival couldn’t have been better: He had just broken free of the Alien Woman.

I watched his rebirth and transformation from afar. What brought it closer was Ball State basketball.

Scott always embraced his alma mater, but after the Alien Woman, he could follow its cage pursuits further … and farther. In March 1992, Scott took advantage of free room and board in Grand Blanc to attend the Mid-American Conference tournament at the Cobo Arena in Detroit. Because of work, I couldn’t go with him to the quarterfinals, which Ball State won, but I went Saturday for the semis, which Ball State also won.

Well, I had to be there for the final, even though it was early Sunday and counter to my bodyclock. Hardly anyone was there—Ball State vs. Miami apparently wasn’t much of a draw in Detroit—so by the end of the game, we were close to the floor in hopes of rushing it to celebrate a Cardinals championship and NCAA berth.

The game went down to the last second, but Ball State lost by one point. Scott was crushed, and if he had hated the hated Miami Foreskins before—and he had—now his hate was immeasurable.

The next year, Scott’s junior year, was another big year for Ball State. The regular-season MAC championship came down to the last game of the season in March 1993: Miami at Ball State. I had to be there.

Scott would be in the student section of the new arena we named the Dick Dome for Dick Hunsaker, who later got bounced due to a scandal involving a Flint player. So I would blend in, Scott bought me a Ball State sweatshirt.

But then he flipped the trump card. He was friends with someone in the pep band who had a hat that had a Charles Cardinal (the mascot) head on top. Scott took it to the game, but he began to feel self-conscious about tip-off time. I had no such hangups. Give … the … hat … to me. Give it here. Oh yeah, I wore Charles Cardinal with pride.

Scott had another surprise for me. Before the weekend, I taunted him a bit about not knowing the Ball State fight song: What kind of fan doesn’t know his team’s fight song? Well, he took my ribbing to heart, because when the pep band fired up Fight, Team, Fight, Scott stood and sang it loud and proud. OK, NOW you’re a fan.

It was a great game. The first half was fairly close, but then Ball State lit up Miami in the second half much to everyone’s delight, particularly Scott’s. That game was only a warmup, because the next week, the MAC tournament was in Columbus. Scott went again—this time solo—and his beloved Ball State ran the table. I watched from afar.

I worked at The Journal that Saturday as ESPN rolled through the highlights of the various games of the day. At one point they showed the end of the MAC game … and there was Scott, on the floor celebrating!

I pointed out with pride to everyone in Sports that, unlike most of the dolts you see on TV, Scott wasn’t looking to mug for the TV camera but instead various players to high-five. No need to call attention to yourself. That’s what the Charles Cardinal hat is for.

In some ways, Scott’s on-floor celebration with his beloved alma mater completed his period of transformation. Not long before the Miami game, he told me about this girl he started to date and how well it was going. Her name was Shani, and eight months later—20 years ago almost to this day—they got engaged. He was on a better path now.