I kind of like Joe Thornton's expression here. His face is hard to read since the image is small, but he looks like he's thinking, "Who, me? What'd I do? This isn't the fucking Nutcracker on Ice."
Apparently, this was the most exciting thing to happen during this game, which Marianne, Kristen and I missed because we were busy trying to chug the blueberries out of the bottom of our glasses at Beerworks. Also, blueberry beer and the popcorn I ate to absorb the four gallons of beer sloshing around in my stomach were exciting. The hockey happening on the ice? Not so much fun.
I'd never been to a hockey game before last night (the only Boston/New England pro sports event I have yet to see live is a Pats game now) and I wish the Bruins had done better, because it was fun. It was amazing to watch the players skate around, looking both graceful and aggressive at the same time. Watching the players dig their skates into the ice, squat down and barrel towards the puck was hypnotic. The crowd at the Bruins game was also fun. There were a few families, but for the most part the crowd was comprised of native Bostonians, judging by the accents. The guy sitting next to me picked up his phone after he clued us in on Gill's injury.
"Yeah, dood, I'm at the game. I feel like I'm wasting my fuckin' money." And that was when the score was 1-0, "Shaaks." He talked to another person later, and talked about coaching youth hockey. I think that's what I like about the Bruins, at least from my limited experience with them; the fans are fans because they like hockey. There were few girls in pink Bruins shirts, which kind of acts as a barometer for how many bandwagon fans there are in any given location. The Sox have tons of girls in full makeup and pink 18 shirts (now vintage), and the Pats are picking up pretty princesses with every tight spiral dreamy 12 throws. The Bruins? The girls there wore either jerseys big enough for them and four other people to fit into, or were dragged by their boyfriends. Kristen was taking money out of the ATM, and overheard a conversation between a woman in a short white wool coat and heels, and her boyfriend.
"But I'm cold already," Girl whined.
"Why don't you zip up your fucking coat?" Sounds like a hot date night for those two.
"Where are we going again? Are we almost there? My feet hurt," she complained, shuffling her pointy-toe, high heeled boots.
"We're going to the Garden, that big fucking building at the end of the street." This is why guys think girls suck. This is also why the guy walking by the ATM stopped calling "tickets, tickets" when he walked by Kristen and I. Girls can't possibly like hockey on their own volition. These girls must be meeting some guy. Ugh. Ass.
Anyway, the game was fun, despite watching the boys get reamed out by an opposing team in teal. I'm also sorry I missed Joe's return to Boston. I had to offer to give him a hug for a friend of mine, but he was already ejected by the time we reached our seats.
We stayed until the bitter end, which was met by the Bruins being slow-clapped and booed. I don't like to boo the team I root for, but, seriously. That was some sloppy-ass hockey, and it's the first game I've ever seen it played live. Next time I was to watch hockey, I'll go to BU and buy the $4 women's hockey ticket. They'll probably play better, and for much less money. Until the Bruins put forth some effort (or time heals poor Hannu) I'll stay home.
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