Happy 10th Anniversary To Bruins Fans: RA Looks Back At A Historic Night For The Bruins And Barstool

When young hoppers ask me life-advice type of shit, I always make sure to them them that time flies by faster the older you get. "You're gonna blink and be old" isn't what people wanna hear but it's gospel. And shit like this is what I'm referring to---it feels like yesterday that this happened. 

Some of you were in middle school when the Bs flew into Vancouver for Game 7 and kicked the Canucks in the teeth in their own barn to win their first Stanley Cup since 1972. Today, you can get legally tuned up at your local dive. And I bet you're all saying the same thing---"I can't believe that was 10 years ago!".

[Ed. note: this is the portion of the program where I would normally post Dave's blogs about it and my game blog. Alas, the Dev Nest fucked that all up and now a lot of us can't read the shit we made our bones with.]

Well it's true. It's also been a decade since I got Barstool a priceless free ad just by following standard media protocol and giving my name and outlet. Barstool wasn't new in 2011 but it was still very much growing so any pub was good pub. Getting a mention like that was huge PR even though that wasn't the intention. Like I said on today's Chiclets, I was a conduit for the rest of Bs fans in that moment and Timmy gave an unreal answer that kicked off SportsCenter the next day. And I had no idea it was on live TV; I wasn't getting texts because of the international shit. 

When it was clear that there would be a Game 7, I started checking flights online at TD during Game 6. A hotel room wasn't an issue because the NHL had rooms for media (this was my first season with a media credential). My journey to from the Atlantic to the Pacific for about 34 hours had a very brief layover in Minnesota. Before takeoff from Logan, I happened to be sitting next to Jackie MacMullan, who was also heading to the Vancouver to cover the game. 

We were shooting the shit a bit and she asked who I wrote for. I said Barstool and referred to it a 'a silly blog' or something similar. She said, "Don't say that. There's value in what you write. Be proud of it." She wasn't a reader but she still recognized I could use some words of encouragement (I certainly wasn't seeking them out). And it always stuck with me, both what she said and her kindness in the way she said it. Jackie Mac can run like the wind too.

The brief layover was really cutting it close. So when we hit the ground in Minny, we had to make an O.J. Simpson dash through the airport. No not that kind. This kind...

Like if I missed the connecting flight, I'd be stuck drinking in the frozen-ass Twin Cities with a bunch of Jerry fucking Lundegaards all night then praying I catch a plane to Vancouver the next day and get there in time for Game 7. So I'm booking it through the airport like I'm getting chased by the cops as my plane is being boarded. I arrive at the gate out of breath, red and sweaty. In front of me is Jackie Mac, looking exactly as she did when we left Boston. Not like a person who just made the same mad dash through several airport gates. She beat me by about 40 lengths. We land in Vancouver around 11PM.

I had been dying to visit Vancouver for years. The mountains right by the city, the beautiful Pacific, the food, the orcas, the weed. Now I was finally here but this was a brief business trip. I didn't see one mountain. I got a brief glimpse of the water down by the arena. And that was about it. So while I went to Vancouver, I didn't see Vancouver. But I did see the Bruins win the Stanley Cup and that's all that really mattered.

I sat up in the press box and all you could smell during the game was people smoking grass (fine by me). I bet the Bruins before the season started at various odds ranging from 12.5/1 to 16/1. I actually dropped the odds at the Venetian but that's more indicative of Vegas being corporate pussies than me being a whale. I was equally proud and horrified; proud that I could brag about moving the odds at not just a casino but a high-end one and horrified that this is how fucking soft Vegas had become. Say what you will about the Mafia but they knew customer service when they ran the place.

I did not hedge before the series. Hours before the game, I was chatting with Andy Brickley and asked what he thought. "Not only do I think they win, I think they win by a couple goals," he said. So before Game 7, I took the Bruins -3.5 +1400. Brad Marchand's empty netter gave me the cover and a nice little cherry on top of a money sundae. After the game, I stayed in the press box to watch the Cup get passed around before taking the elevator to ice level then headed to the playing surface for post-game interviews/congratulations. I had a Bruins shirt on under my collared short-sleeve so I would reveal it like Superman to Bs fans in the stands, watch them go nuts, and then give a high-five through the glass.

I stayed on the ice as long as I could just to soak it in. Greg Campbell was the last player to get off the ice. As I headed toward the locker room, I saw Thomas going in for his presser which is how I ended up there. If I left the ice a minute earlier or a minute later, my question never happens. Serendipity, man. The Bruins let local media into the room while they celebrated. Just after I entered, a buddy who is also a team scout handed me a Bruins Stanley Cup Champions Bud Light and congratulated me on the hit.

I grabbed some pics. My greatest regret was not getting one with Patrice. I have one with Shawn Thornton that Ken Casey of the Dropkicks took. Never met him, just yelled "Hey Ken, can you take this picture please?" and he thankfully obliged. Eventually, somebody yelled to the team that the players needed to shower so that they could get the hell out of there. Oh yeah, this was also going on about a mile away...

Elsa. Getty Images.

Rich Lam. Getty Images.

Rich Lam. Getty Images.

But I just lingered as everyone filtered out and before I knew it, there were about 4 or 5 of us in a big room next to the locker room. And Stanley. He was there, too. So it became picture time.

After I left the room, I hung out in the bowels of the arena drinking Molson Canadians with Jack Edwards and my new buddy Bully from Toronto (a fellow event-crasher). We saw the Bs off as they headed home with the Stanley Cup in tow. Then I caught a media shuttle back to the hotel via a riot-avoiding route. I didn't see or hear any of the riot. I had a few drinks at the media reception then headed to my room to write my game story. At 3AM, I called into Toucher & Rich back home for a radio hit. Then I shed some tears as I finished my blog before catching a couple of Zzzs.

I get up a few hours later and head to the airport. I forget where my layover in the states was but as soon as I deplaned, my phone went nuts. All the texts from the night before came rolling in. Apparently, North America heard my question to Tim Thomas live on TV. Plus, I got a shitload of congratulatory calls over my Vegas hit. I got home and just R&R'd for a few days. I was all set with the Duckboat parade because there was no way it could top Vancouver.

A couple weeks later, Paulie Walnuts and I flew to Vegas to cash the winners. I booked a room at the Barbary Coast online. When we checked in, the room wasn't ready yet so the hotel clerk said, "for another $25, I can give you a suite". We jumped all over it. The "suite" was at the back end of the building on the top floor. It turned out to be the former owners' quarters that was later the live-in residence for GMs and shit. It was more like an apartment. From the 1940's. It had a foyer with a door on each side. To one side was a bathroom and two separate bedrooms that were standard hotel room size. On the left was a gigantic room with ancient furniture, a bar, some couches, and a bunch of other old shit. We could've easily hosted 80+ people in this place. And it was like $100 a night. 

Before the trip I vowed the Vegas wasn't getting a (gambling) cent from me. And it didn't. It was the only time I went to Vegas and didn't wager on a single thing. I just partied my face off then flew home with the money I won on the Bruins.

I had a fun summer but eventually the buzz of the team and financial wins wears off and life gets back to normal. But I'll always have Vancouver.