St. Emma of the Chemicals

A short two years ago, Tim Thomas was a minor god in this city. He pretty much dragged the Bruins through the Stanley Cup playoffs and almost single-handedly won them the Cup despite the team having a power play that could only be described as abysmal. His number was a shoo-in for retirement.

His star started to fade quite a bit after he declined to meet President Obama along with the rest of the team, for what can only be described as selfish and wingnutty reasons. And it pretty much fell out of the sky when he decided that he was going to take a year off to go and live in a bunker and polish his guns while reading Atlas Shrugged instead of playing hockey. You know, like a professional hockey player would, if he were behaving professionally.

And now that he's been traded to the New York Islanders - good luck at making another Cup run there, Timmy - the collective response from Boston hockey fandom seems to be a resounding "Don't let the door hit ya..."

The Boston Globe's poll question was "Do you like the Bruins' decision to trade goalie Tim Thomas?

As of the time I wrote this entry, "Yes, his time here was done" had reached 92.85%

That doesn't sound like a man who's going to be having his number retired in this city anytime soon.

I've said for years that my dream Stanley Cup matchup would be the Bruins vs. the Canucks. My two favourite teams - the best teams in the league - duking it out for the Cup.

I got it this year. And I was so, so happy. Now? Now I'm starting to wish I'd never wished for this. All things considered, I think I'd be happier seeing Boston take on San Jose, or Vancouver meet up with Tampa Bay. Because this is hurting me.

It's not that I'm conflicted, necessarily, about who to cheer for. I'm cheerfully cheering for everyone. No, it's because this has basically lifted up a rock and showed me a really ugly side of Boston fandom. One I never wanted to see. In summary: I love the Bruins, but I'm starting to hate their fans.

Exhibit A: I've had to stop reading Boston-area hockey blogs because I am so fucking sick of the people who said nothing about Max Pacioretty all of a sudden getting concerned about hits when it comes to Nathan Horton. I am equally fucking sick of people whinging about what a weaselly little jerk Alex Burrows is without ever once acknowledging that their beloved Brad Marchand is also a weaselly little jerk. Both sides have dirty hands. No one is a saint. Get over it.

Exhibit B: While waiting in the bathroom line between periods tonight, an overzealous Boston fan came running through the concourse, braying about "Vancouver faggots." I trust I don't even have to deconstruct why this is problematic.

Exhibit C (and really, this pretty much just fucking caps it): After Mason Raymond was hit and lay prone on the ice, Boston fans started booing. They weren't booing the hit on him. Presumably they were booing because they've somehow gotten it into their head that Vancouver is all about the faking of injuries. Not only was Raymond not faking, he was whisked to hospital as soon as they got him off the ice. Two of his teammates helped him to his feet, but instead of applauding - which is the standard protocol for any injured player who is helped off the ice - they began to chant for the Bruins. And one very loud, and one can only hope inebriated, man behind me shouted "Bring out a stretcher and then we're even."

I love the Bruins. I really do. And I'd be lying if I said that my opinion wasn't at least partially clouded by the fact that I love the Canucks, too. We're all hungry for the Cup. Tempers are running high on both sides. I get that. But that's no excuse to be evil to each other, on or off the ice.

If this is what Bruins Nation is going to be like, I'm not sure I want to be a part of it.

Before the game gets started, here are my predictions:

If Boston wins tonight, the series ends in game six in Boston.

If Vancouver wins tonight, the series goes to seven games, and it's anyone's guess who wins.

The Abbotsford Heat, one of the best teams in the AHL, faced the P-Bruins today, and wonder of wonders, the P-Bruins held their own. We were a little concerned, since the season opener was such a balls-out debacle, but although the P-Bruins struggled mightily at times, they managed to eke out an overtime win, 5-4.

Consequently, for the rest of the season, I wear the team sweatshirt and st_darwin wears the practice jersey. We were fools to try it any other way.

1. Bobby Orr meets Bobby Clarke. How cool is that? The last time I saw these dudes on the ice together (lo, those many years ago), I think they were trying to kill each other.

2. James Taylor's rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" is ever so much better than the versions typically performed at games by the collective entities that I've come to refer to as the Atonal Children's Choir.

3. Can we just go back to Bobby Orr and Bobby Clarke? My inner child fainted with glee!

4. The acoustics are so different from indoor games. The play-by-play is getting drowned out by the players shouting to each other.

5. Dropkick Murphys. We're shipping up to Boston, indeed.

6. Inside the Green Monstah.

6. Sweet Caroline. Good times never seemed so good. So good! So good! So good!

7. Boston wins. With a weird, weird, anticlimatic goal. But they won.

8. The handshakes. How civilized!

9. While the Olympic announcement with the little kids was, shall we say, cheesy, Timmy's going to Vancouver!


The one thing that overwhelmingly sucked: the blatant product placements. Geico cavemen shovelling snow off the ice; Captain Morgan hanging out in the stands. This cheapens the game, the players, the viewers, and everyone involved. Can we please just make it stop?

Dear Canucks,

I heartily approve of the sound thrashing you gave Montreal. Much more enjoyable than ending every game asking my husband, "I'm paying for Center Ice so we can see that?"

Thank you for getting back on track in time to avoid making it into the history books.

Love (again),
Emma