Now THAT’S what I like to see. That’s the way to reintroduce yourself to the playoffs.
Couldn’t have scripted it better, could ya?
Even if it wasn’t against Matt Cooke’s nefarious Penguins, it was still against that other Pennsylvania-based hockey team who previously employed Randy Jones, the player responsible for concussing Patrice Bergeron with a dirty hit in 2007. So I’m calling it a twisted sense of karma.
Perhaps the best part of the game – aside from the win, of course – was watching the tail end of the third period and the entirety of overtime at the Greek Corner restaurant in North Cambridge with the awesome staff whose concern over our service was secondary to yelling at the Bruins and dramatically pounding on the counter during the Bruins’ absolute onslaught of shots in overtime. Which is totally fine because I enjoy my local restaurant folk caring about the teams around here. And also, totally unsolicited plug for the Greek Corner restaurant but they serve the best avgolemono soup and lamb gyros I’ve ever had. You know, just in case you’re looking for a place for lunch. They’ll probably have the game on.
ANYWAY, the Bruins are doing a girl proud, no? And as often as I try to avoid being all mushy and girly about these things, look at Mark Savard’s face up there? How happy is that man? Don’t you just want to hug him? Perhaps after he showers and de-hockifies himself, but still. Maybe in this case you’d even forgo that sort of thing and just go right in for the hug like at the end of Rocky where Adrian totally doesn’t care that he’s all bloody and sweaty and snotty and what not and just goes right in for the hug because he finally went the distance? This is kind of like that, right? Except that Savard was fighting against Philadephia instead of being from there and he’s not Italian and there’s no Adrian and, okay, so really, it’s nothing like that. But Rocky IS my favorite movie and I haven’t seen it in a while and also I’ve got so much Mucinex and decongestant in my system, it might be making me imagine things. No matter. There will be a Game 2 and it will be exciting. And I suppose that’s what matters.
That and I hope someone buys Mark Savard a beer tonight. Maybe two.