We'll Always Have Fenway

There are few sporting events that I have been to that i can truly say I will remember for the rest of my life. My first Red Sox, Bruins, Patriots or Celtics game sure, though even those are mostly obscured by the fog of my distant memory, since they were so long ago and blend together with the 2nd and 3rd games I went to. However, there is a short list that I cherish in my mind, including the time I saw my sister-in-law sing the National Anthem at Fenway (Wade Miller and the Sox lost, breaking Johnny Damon's 2005 hit streak), the time my girlfriend and I saw Milan Lucic check a Maple Leaf through the glass (a staple of the highlight reel for the next 20 years), or when I saw Jacoby Ellsbury steal home against the Yankees with my brother just this past spring.

However, I can say, now, that the hockey game I saw on january 1st is one I will never, ever, forget. Which is funny, since the sightlines I had for that game are easily the worst I have ever had for any sporting event, and it took me a period and a half to have any feel for how the Bruins were playing. But, as you may have heard, this game was played outdoors, at Historic Fenway Park (tm). My friend Alex, to whom I now owe a life-debt, was able to get tickets in the right field grandstand, off to the right of the goal the Bruins shot at once.







After so much anticipation, actually being there was kind of a shock. It was, for the first time in a very, very long time, a day in Boston Sports that was entirely about the Bruins, and that was as much of a joy as anything else. Look out at the crowd at Fenway, it looked just as packed as a September showdown with the Angels, though it was unexpectedly odd to see the stands dotted with black and gold instead of red, white and blue. It was like being at a Steelers game (I'd say it was like being at a Pirates game, but since 39,000 haven't been to a Pirates game since 1992, I don't know what that would look like...) I showed up at 10:45, before Alex, his girlfriend, or my brother Andy, and was able to peruse the surrounding area. I'd caved in and bought a #37 Patrice Bergeron Winter Classic jersey the day before, so I didn't need to spend all of my time in the souvenir shops, but I was able to get into the FanFest that the NHL had set up in the parking lot by the Yawkey Commuter Rail station. Besides hearing a live band butcher new hits and old favorites, there was a bubble hockey tournament tent, along with an NHL 2K10 tent, and other places to get a bunch of free crap. It was rather crowded, and I subconciously gravitated towards the US Army recruiting station just to get some space. Andy, Alex, and Juliette showed up around 12:00, and we headed into the park to find our seats, braving even more masses of fans. I found myself not wanting to go into Fenway yet, almost wishing that the game would never start. As soon as it started, of course, the sooner it would end, and I wasn't ready to assume my trademark sullen, morose, worrisome demeanor whenever an important Boston sports game is in doubt. I was having too much fun.





After braving a sea of people worse than any summer evening I've ever seen, we found our seats, complete with courtsey seat cushions, rally towels, and hockey cards. I discovered much to my chagrin that we were completely surrounded by Flyers fans, who were not exactly in the mood to make small talk. I went off to find myself some food, and some beer, and came back just in time for the national anthems, and a flyover by a B2 bomber with apparently nothing better to do. It was game time.

The game itself started slow, with each time trying to get used to the ins and outs of the ice, as well and the perculiarities of playing outdoors (my favorite story comes from Patrice Bergeron, who said that, being used to playing indoors with an overhanging scoreboard for video replays and the game clock, he looked up from the bench several times expecting information only to see "you know, the sky."). we couldn't really see more than torsos from where we were, and trying to gauge who was playing better was nearly impossible for the first period. But the atmosphere was enough to keep us all grinning, and the highlight of the 1st became the fight between Shawn Thornton and Daniel Carcillo, which anyone who knew anything about these two teams could see coming. The first Scrap (dunno if I'd call it a Donnybrook) in Winter Classic history went down as a win for Philly, as Carcillo planted Shawn on his ass with a blow to the face. But the roar from the crowd was wonderful, and it helped warm everyone up after the slow start.

The second, though, brought up all sorts of bad memories about this 09-10 Bruins team. They couldn't challenge the Flyers at all, looked sluggish in the offensive zone and glacial in their own (thought the TV boradcast shows them to not be quite as bad as they looked from right field), and Tim Thomas's intensity and fire, which so often allows him to be the goalie that won the Vezina last year, got the best of him and the Bruins early, leading to Philly's first (and only) goal. Scott Hartnell, being the douchepest he is, interfered with Timmy in the crease, wasn't called on it, and after a brilliant save, Thomas cross-checked Hartnell, completely missing the fact that the Flyers were still on the attack. A bad goal, and completely Tim's fault, though the first interference non-call was pretty blatant. Still, the kind of thing you leave to your teammates.

At any rate, the Flyers goal revealed the Philly fans behind us to be not entirely classy, as they didn't celebrate their own team as much as deride ours for the goal. A father-son duo referred to the Bruins as the "Gayest Team in the NHL", which, while the Bruins have their legitimate shortcomings, I do not believe to be a valid criticism. Nor one that makes any sense, but I guess I was asking too much of the guys behind us. Not an indictment of all Philly fans, of course. Just not glowing praise, either.

By this point, me being me, I was convinced (not without cause) that the Bruins were done for. I firmly believed that the 1st goal of the game was vital, as the Bruins had the weight of the occasion on them, and the Flyers were playing with house money when it came to the Classic. All the pressure landed squarely on the Black and Gold, and anyone who has pulled their hair out watching this team this year knew it wouldn't be easy anymore.

After a good response shift, the Bruins settled into a groove of playing good forechecking hockey, not getting good shots, and allowing waaaay too many odd man rushes to the Flyers. Thomas made up for his gaffe by shutting Philly down on a couple of breakaways, and kept the B's close. Entering the 3rd, the game could go either way...

It should be noted at this point that anyone who knows me and knows my relationship with the Boston Bruins knows that I have been decrying the underperforming nature of Marco Sturm and Mark Recchi for most of the season now. After Kessel left, I was convinced that these two men would combine to replace his 36 goals, and would form the heart of a balanced Bruins attack. Not. So. Much. But I am man enough to admit on occasion when I am wrong.

I spent the last few minutes of the 3rd pleading with the Bruins to "For the Love of God, Don't Get Shut Out in Your Own Freaking Winter Classic". I could see it now; the one day, as mentioned, where the Bruins were top dog in the Hub again, and they blow it. Don't even score a goal, and confirm to all the fair-weathers out there that they're not worth the time or effort. However, thanks to the crowd getting pumped up with a rendition of Sweet Caroline with 8 minutes left to go, coupled with some interesting (I'm not going to say questionable) calls going for them in the waning minutes, the Bruins found new life, and with some master tip-work in the dirty areas in front of the net (led by Recchi), all of a sudden the game was tied.

This, of course, made the crowd go insane, and I don't think anyone sat down for the remainder of the game. Alex, in sitting down, had talked with me about what we wanted out of the game, and while I said "I hope the Bruins win by 9", he quipped, "or, they score late to tie in the 3rd and win in Overtime". He was about to get his wish.

With all fo us still chanting for the Bruins, they responded in overtime by having consistent pressure on the powerplay, and after Timmy stopped a just-out-of-the-box breakaway by Danny Briere, Patrice Bergeron and Marco Sturm showed why they're headed to the Olympics with a pass and tip that won the game, broke the Winter Classic Host Jinx, and sent Boston into a frenzy. I know this only because I have since rewatched the game on TV; at the time, all we could see was some Bruins crashing the net, and then that magical red light flash on over the goal. The win was ours.

This was more than just 2 points, of course. Since I had learned that the Bruins were going to host the Winter Classic, I had hoped they would win not just because it would be 2 points, but because of all the pomp and circumstance. No matter what may happen for the rest of the season, the Bruins won the Winter Classic. Though it's not the final goal, of course, I can always rewatch the game and know they will win every time. Every time I look at my Patrice Winter Classic jersey, I can know that they won while wearing it. It's the gift that keeps on giving. On the biggest stage they've had in 20 years, the Bruins came through.

And while it looks like I'll have to be leaning on that crutch a lot over the coming weeks and months, at least it's there to lean on. A game I will truly never, ever forget. And the Bruins won.

-M