Throw Back Thursday (Story Time)

April 27, 2011, I woke up in my dorm room like any other Wednesday. I rolled over, careful not fall off my vaulted twin bed, and opened my eyes to the piercing red numbers reading 12:52AM.

“Shit”, I groaned and with great effort I leaped off my bed. I had Math class in 8 minutes.

I put my hair in a ponytail, stepped into my black sneakers, slung my LL Bean bag on my back and headed to class. Yes, I was the image of a clichéd college student, wearing yesterdays make-up, yoga pants, and the same sweatshirt I wore to bed the night before.

I made it to my math class one minute late and my Russian professor spewed something about timing off at me as I took my seat. Matt, the kid I bonded with the first day over our mutual hatred of math and love for the bruins, mumbled under his breath, “close call”, and I just shot a smirk in his direction.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, with my attention being caught by the upcoming Bruins playoff game that night. The Bruins were facing their division rivals in a do or die game 7. Whoever won would advance to play the Philadelphia Flyers in the chase for the Stanley Cup.

The phrase “Idle hands are the devils play-things” has never been truer for me when I got back to my room that afternoon. I was killing time, watching endless pregame coverage, and replays of the past six games. I decided to haphazardly check Stubhub to see ticket prices.

The next thing I remember I was frantically calling and texting everyone I knew to see who would go to the game with me. I bought 3 tickets for $120 each and was struggling to find someone who was not only free but also willing to pay that price such last minute. I roped in my friend Jimmy from home, but I couldn’t find someone to buy the third ticket. I ended up texting Matt from math class and he was more than happy to put up the money and come to the game.

We all met up at the TD Garden at 6:30pm for a 7:00pm puck drop. The buzz of the crowd outside was electric. There were chants left and right from, “Let's Go Bruins” to “Habs Suck” to “We Want The Cup”. I climbed the stairs into the entrance to the Garden and followed the crowds that were being herded into lines. In the seconds it took for the usher to scan my ticket I had a fleeting panic. 'What if this is a false ticket, a scam? This is too good to be true. I knew it.' *beep beep*

“Enjoy the Game”, the usher said and handed me back my ticket.

A rush of relief hit me as I stepped passed him and then the giddiness sank in. It was my first playoff game ever and it was game 7 against the Montreal Canadiens. I looked around to make sure it was all real as the escalator dropped me off in a flood of black and gold. Men with beards, women with beers, and Bruins apparel were all I could see. I felt so comfortable as if I was about to watch the game with my closest 17,000 friends. As soon as we found our seats I took a deep breath and waited for all of it to sink in. The cold rink air was crisp and refreshing with a hint of beer and fries. The ice was smooth and shiny like a pie fresh out of the oven waiting for the players to carve it up.

The game was fast and intense and the sound from the crowd was deafening from the crowd. The pressure was detectable in the player’s game with little mistakes having big consequences. It was also present in the fans expressions, desperately hoping for goals. The Bruins scored two goals that were fiercely answered by two goals from Montreal. With just under 2 minutes left in the game with the Bruins up by one, the most hated Hab, PK Subban, rocketed a devastating shot over Thomas's glove side to tie the game and send it to overtime.

The tension in the arena was the worst I've ever felt it, making my hands clammy and my heart race. People had their heads in their hands, reliving the tying goal and anticipating the overtime ending. The crowd was hushed as people regained their hope in the Bruins.

“We've got this, send them back to Canada where they belong”, someone shouted next to me and I felt a shiver start at my fingertips and spread to the rest of my body.

The horn sounded signaling the begin of overtime and the puck was dropped. After roughly 5 minutes of holding my breath, Milan Lucic passed the puck to Nathan Horton at the blue line and he fired one past Carey Price and into the back of the net. My world sped up and slowed down at the same time. I leapt out of my seat, high-fiving and hugging my new friends around me. We danced, we sang, we swung our rally towels above our heads, and some of us even shed a tear. There was a massive group hug of grown men down on the ice with #18 in the center. Dirty Water blasted over the P.A. system and the teams lined up to shake hands. I was cheering so loud I had lost my voice and only squeaks were surfacing at that moment. Thomas raised his glove and stick in the air and waved to the fans displaying the biggest smile I had seen to date. They announced the goal over the P.A. and the crowd went mental, letting out the loudest “Wooooh”, at the end.

 Usually the crowd would start to disperse, but no one wanted to leave that moment. I leaned on the back of my seat to catch my breath and remember thinking to myself, 'It doesn’t get any better than this'. To this day I have been to many great games, but none have been able the match the excitement of that game.