If you come to battle, bring a shotgun...

We clutched our CharlieTickets as we descended into the bowels of North Station. The odor was almost unbearable. Perhaps it was the fetid stench of yet another Bruins loss. Alternatively, it may have been a result of individuals choosing a less-than-sanitary method of satisfying their personal evacuation needs.
The (Musical) Artist Currently Known as Shadow was at the scene, selling his Limited Edition CD: 10 songs for only $5! He was attempting to sweeten the deal by offering a live freestyle at time of purchase, but the masses made my purchasing decision for me by propelling me towards the turnstiles. I will, apparently, need to turn to eBay (or iTunes) to get my Shadow fix.

It seemed like a simple enough plan. Depart from Ipswich, MA at 5:15pm for Alewife T station. Take the T to North Station. Watch the Bruins defeat the Sabres, starting the massacre (BY the Bruins) at 7pm. Unfortunately, any plan that involves me driving for long periods of time has a danger of failure. (Not to mention the danger of casualties.)

I make the drive from Ipswich to Somerville most nights in 45-60 minutes. So, naturally, it took about 90 minutes to make that trip on this night. But it wasn't due to poor driving on my part. Sure, there was that car I almost rear-ended in Peabody. (I'd like to take this opportunity to let the drivers around me who switched lanes immediately afterwards, probably to avoid later witnessing my insanely quick reflexes in action, that they totally didn't hurt my feelings or nuthin'.) And also that pedestrian in Somerville, who seriously needs to invest in some brighter-colored clothing. (Note: I am not counting that alleged incident with that seemingly unnecessary Yield sign in Danvers- where I almost got hit from behind, and to the glove side, by an SUV- because I had no passengers at the time.) If anything, my obscenely,um, skilled, driving helped us reach our destination quicker. Plus, the burning rubber from my tires in Peabody helped remind us of the reason we had embarked on this trepidatious journey. We were drawn to the puck!

I was directed to tune in to Public Radio to see why there was a delay, but I suspect that was a ploy by an individual with less than ideal taste in music. We did not discover why it was so trafficky. But we did join a young woman on a voyage of self-discovery as she struggled with the decision of whether to pursue a future in the Prostitutional Arts. She, eventually, decided that the lucrative nature of that particular career path was outweighed by the potential dangers (pimps, disease, and/or death). I believe she made the right choice. (We should have stuck to listening to those musical greats from the great nation of Sweden, Mind's Eye.)

Now that I have transitioned from a T-commuter to an infrequent T-traveler, I miss out on a lot of the randomness that public transportation has to offer. This night's highlight was likely the burly lacrosse player working on ballet moves on the Red Line. A bit on the disconcerting side. Fortunately, he left the train before he attempted a Pas de Chat. Which likely would have ended badly for all those concerned.

We also overheard some interesting comments on the T.
From a middle-aged hockey fan," Is hockey quarters or halves?"
Between a befuddled T rider and an MBTA official," How do you get to the end of the platform?" "You go to the platform, then you go to the end."
Between a band of rough-and-tumble individuals and a bespectacled dork, "Are you going to Fleetcenter?" "Yes." "Are you going to see the Bruins?" "No, I'm going to see Bucketman play a set in the alley." (Note: This would have been my response if I was more rough-and tumble.)

It was about 7:20pm when we walked through the alley past the large ads featuring Jason, Troy, and Ray. (No shot at Ray- one of the greatest in NHL history- but I would have preferred to have seen a current Bruin, perhaps Zdeno or Patrice, pictured.) Bucketman was pounding away with a tune from his breakout 2nd album, but there was no time to stop, as we had to race in to get two of the remaining 4000 seats.

We settled on $33 seats, which positioned us around the blue line, to the left of the goal defended ably by Tim Thomas for 2 periods, exactly 3 rows from the highest row in the arena. A bit pricey, but we could see the whole playing surface, and we realize that we have to help pay the salaries of the Chistovs and the Donovans, with our ticket dollars. We had no problem with the security check at the entrance, as I had left my Mooninite at home. (I still can't believe I got that piece of art and media history on eBay for only 5G!)

We had missed all but 1:23 of the 1st period. Even worse, we had become, at least for one night, the late-arriving fans that I have oft-criticized. On the plus side, the Bruins had a 1-0 lead.

We went to the concession stands to load up our bellies with overpriced culinary delights, contented by the realization that we were helping pay for Mark Mowers' varied contributions to Bruins hockey. I failed in my attempt to find a Lemonade, but we did overpay for some popcorn, Barq's root beer, and a Nathan's hot dog (Theo's fave), which I consumed faster than Iafrate's slapper once found the glass behind the net. In the 3rd period, there was a $7 pizza, which was certainly the worst $7 pizza I could recall helping consume. (Note: Dave Lewis had made me a healthy scratch, due to my tardiness, so I could eat at will.)

I have already sent my game report to Dave Lewis (and an anonymous Eastern Conference team), so I am prevented, for proprietary reasons, from commenting on the game itself. All I can say is that it was typical Bruins hockey, typical Sabres hockey, and a typical 3-1 Sabres win. I will note, however, that I was excited to see Brad Boyes engage in his 1st fight at the NHL level, and it was a pretty good scrap.

I was a bit disappointed that the Ice Girls' impact seemed to be limited to posing in the background for random photo ops, and helping sweep up glass shavings on the ice. I'm not really sure what, exactly, I was expecting from their contribution to be, but certainly something more. Even more disappointing was the fact that the Bruins mascot (Blades) did not appear to be wearing skates. Chickenshit. (Bearshit?) He needs to be sent to the ECHL for awhile, and return with skating skills.
I did, however, come to a realization. I once thought that the commercial breaks, were for, well, commercials. So the B's could sell advertising time and whatnot. But those breaks are actually so that the Ice Girls can shovel up ice shavings from the slot in front of each goal, thus providing more goal-scoring opportunities for the fans to enjoy.

Also worthy of note were the musical selections. There was some Guns, Motley Crue, Van Halen, Metallica- all of the music seemed to be at least a decade old. I was totally singing along (in my head), but isn't there anything more contemporary that could have revved up the crowd? No, not Fergie, who doesn't exactly make me want to rock out (or "go rock, rock", for that matter), but some more mainstream/rockish stuff? Hmm, I'm not really sure where I am going with this. They seem to play the same songs at all games. I guess I just want some new stuff worked into the rotation. Not that I would recognize and/or sing along to it, if they did.

But there is one thing I am certain of. If they are playing House of Pain, and they show you on the HD-quality big screen, it is your duty to get out of your seats and jump around, jump up, jump up, and get down, in a timely manner. That is, if you have not already begun the getting down process, which is, of course, preferable.

One fan-friendly program the B's have is to allow a family to stand right outside the Bruins' locker room, and watch/wave to the players as they return to the ice. They had a family of 4 with a lil' guy and a tiny lil' girl positioned behind a rope, right in front of the players' exit. It was awesome to watch the kiddies bop around in excitement as the players walked by, and see their joyous expressions when the players slapped their hands (and when the goalies tapped them with their blockers!). That was just the coolest.

But the most memorable part, at least for me, occurred at 18:58 of the 3rd period. Marco Sturm got blasted in the head, resulting in 1 concussion for the B's German forward, and zero minutes in penalties for the Sabres. When Sturm left the ice, he left behind a small pool of blood near the faceoff circle to the left of the Sabres' goal. The on-ice officials opted the take care of the bloody situation by scraping up ice shavings with their skate blades, and covering the blood. I'm not sure if this was one of the Best Practices for Blood-Handling, but I'll give the refs points for efficiency.

So, to sum up, the reason they PLAY the games is because either team could win. The reason we GO to the games is to see where they hide all the blood.
Go Bruins!