The date was April 21, 2011, and interestingly enough the Boston Bruins playoff game against the Canadiens was on the living room TV when I walked in the house. Now the Bruins were far and away the least cared about team in the house. A lot had happened in the world since 1972, the last time the the B's had not won a Stanley Cup. Steven Tyler was better known for his role as the lead singer for Aerosmith as opposed to the main American Idol Judge. The newborn concept of free agency had just started breastfeeding. And Watergate happened. But yet here they were, Bruins playoff hockey on television in my dad's house.
Sure it was April, the month of the year where the sporting world that was about as awkward as a high school nerd who attempted to ask the pretty girl to prom. Another great year of college basketball had recently ended and the biggest winner was TruTV. (It was the first year that every game was dispersed across four networks; a fantastic idea that the NCAA should have thought of a long time ago.) Baseball season had not started for anyone other than my mom. (My mom loves baseball more than any other sport. So much so that she willingly listens to every New York Yankee game on the radio in her bathroom. From spring training to Game 7 of the World Series.) Football was an afterthought, pleasantly without the "will Brett Favre come back?" discussion. (Hallelujah!) And the Celtics, although they were in the playoffs, were not on that night. (Sorry Tommy Heinsohn) Even still, the Bruins? My guess was that either my Dad lost a bet or that he was watching Archer and the show went to commercial.
Needless to say, I was a bit taken aback by the presence of hockey in the house. Don't get me wrong, I had no problem sitting down and watching playoff hockey. In my mind, the product that had been playoff hockey was tied with March Madness as the best postseason in all of sports. I found that hockey had always been better in the playoffs because the game itself was executed better. The unnecessary fighting had vanished, the lazy passes stopped, and the crappy cheap shots that marred the game during the regular season were nowhere to be found come playoff time.
And 2011 was a very good year to be excited about playoff hockey in Boston. Tim Thomas had broken the NHL's save percentage record and won the Veznia Trophy for best goaltender. There were four Bruins that had more than 50 points heading into the playoffs. The Bruins won the Northeast Division for the first time since the 08-09 season. The B's were fifth in the NHL in goals scored per game, third in the league in shots per game, and had a .400 winning percentage when they fell behind during games in the regular season.
But still, the Bruins were the team that my dad would get on his brother's case for rooting for. Their championship drought and continued failure in the playoffs were not acceptable in Boston; the sports city that dominated the new millennium with championships by each of the other three professional sports franchises. But hey, anything could happen right?
And something did happen, something far more spectacular in my eyes than the final score of the game (which the Bruins won 5-4). I witnessed the birth of a Bruins fan.
My younger sister Madeline entered the room and saw that my dad and I were watching the game. Maddie was not really into sports, partly because she had heard about them ad nauseum from her obnoxious brother who couldn't stop talking about them. But for some reason, she walked right in, sat down, and never left. My sister watched as the Bruins put up three goals in the second period. She watched the Bruins overcome deficits of 1-0, 3-1, and 4-3. She saw a franchise that had been synonymous with failure in the playoffs succeed. And Maddie witnessed overtime playoff hockey. By that point she was on the edge of her seat and she was fighting to hold back her excitement. Then 1:59 into overtime, Michael Ryder scored to give the Bruins the win and tie the series.
Then Maddie cheered, and it was beautiful.
The Bruins comeback win was not the first sporting event my sister ever saw, for she went with my dad, my aunt, my uncle, and I to see the Padres play, but it was the first game that Maddie saw that she ever cared about; and in my book, the first game that a person sees that they care about is the first game they ever saw.
I would say that she remembered that Padres game, but the first Bruins game she ever saw was the game that she would never forget.
There had been, is, and always will be something magical about a person's first sporting event. A person's first game would be one of their go to memories throughout the rest of their lives. It should not have mattered if a person's first game was seen on TV or at the stadium. In my case, I still almost remembered every detail about my first game upon reflection. My first game was when I was seven years old and my dad took me to see the Red Sox play the Oakland Athletics at Fenway Park. I was awestruck. I wanted to see every part of Fenway. Touch all the cool stuff, and try all the park food. I was fascinated by the trouths that Fenway had in place of urinals, despite my dad's opinion of them. And as for the game itself, the seats were the coolest things ever. They were uncomfortable, but I didn't care. I got to see the Red Sox play. I remember that first baseman Mo Vaughn hit a home run that i swore to my mom left the stadium and landed somewhere in Vermont. I never wanted that game to end, even though my seven year old self fell asleep in the fourth inning.
And my dad loved every minute of it just as much as I did.
My dad would never admit it, but seeing Maddie's budding love for the Boston Bruins must have given him more joy than watching me fall in love with sports. Long ago my dad watched me, his little Boston sports nut, become a little unbiased sports nut instead (this was due to my mom being a Yankees fan and my dad's support of the Red Sox. At some point my little brain thought "I don't want mommy or daddy to be mad at me for picking one or the other, so I'll root for neither!"; and that mentality stuck) Maddie's interest in the Bruins gave my dad his little Boston sports nut back. Not because my sister was a little girl anymore, but rather that my dad could once again show an untainted sports mind the different facets of the game through his eyes.
It would have been nice to say that I knew the importance of nurturing a newborn Bruins fan. That I could have foreseen the growth of the sapling into the Bruins fan-hood grove. But alas, that was not the case. My father had much more experience nurturing little Boston sports nuts that I would ever hope to. Also, my dad's knowledge of hockey far surpassed my own; needless to say, the caring for the newest fan newborn was best left to someone who had a pretty good idea on how to raise people.
With the seed of my sister's fanhood planted, and my dad providing fertile soil, it was up to the Boston Bruins to add the water to help my sister grow to love them even more.
Two days later, the Bruins made it rain.
The B's untied the series against the Canadiens with a thrilling 2-1 win in double overtime. Nathan Horton put in the go ahead goal to make the TD Garden erupt.
All the while, Maddie's interest in the Bruins, and the sport of hockey, became larger by the period.
As the games continued to march on, so did my sister's questions as to how the game was played.
What was the blue line for?
How do you tell who wins a faceoff?
How come the goalies aren't allowed to leave the crease?
Why did that guy leave the ice?
What is the red line for again?
All the while, my dad answered every question with just the right amount of detail. The explanations themselves came smoother from my dad's mouth than any feeble attempt I could have ever hoped to muster. He simplified every situation that Maddie inquired about in a way that made the action on the ice slow to a crawl. I can't say for sure how much of the information she retained, but in Maddie's case, not knowing as much as Jack Edwards did not mean that she could enjoy the Bruins success any less.
And the Bruins continued to have success in the 2011 playoffs.
The Bruins mopped the floor with the Philadelphia Flyers in four games. Interestingly enough, it was the Flyers that came back from a 0-3 series deficit and a three goal disadvantage in game seven of the 2010 conference semifinals to oust the Bruins.
But not in 2011, my sister's first year as a Bruins fan.
The Bruins carried their momentum into the next series against the Tampa Bay Lightning. In a series that saw a rookie take over for two games, a hat trick, a changing of the goalies in Tampa Bay, plenty of physical play, and a yet another pressure packed game seven.
But the Bruins prevailed, and Maddie continued to watch as her new favorite team went to the Stanley Cup Finals for the first time since her older brother was born.
The backdrop for the Stanley Cup Finals was as good as it got. The Vancouver Canucks against the Boston Bruins. Canada against the United States. New school execution against classic blue collar defense. And the birth of a now heated rivalry.
The first game between the Canucks and Bruins was a fantastic defensive battle that went all the way down to the final 30 seconds of the game. My dad and sister were both on the edges of their seats with the rest of Boston as Roberto Luongo and Tim Thomas made great save after great save. The deadlock continued until Raffi Torres put one past Thomas in the game's waning seconds.
It was my sister's first tough extremely tough loss as a Bruins fan. She had been so accustomed to her team keeping games close and pulling out victories. But this loss, could have broken a bandwagoner. My sister had enjoyed the Bruins success for the vast majority of the playoffs despite their previous losses. She had not experienced the kind of difficult losses other sports fans agonized for years over. Fortunately, Maddie passed a fan test that would be the standardized equivalent of the LSAT's.
Game two gave my sister the first true look at a rivalry in the making. What turned an already chippy series into a full blown rivalry. In game one, Canucks winger Alexander Burrows bit the finger of Bruins center Patrice Bergeron (allegedly). The next meeting featured Maxim Lapieere's attempt at humor by holding his finger inches from Bergeron's face. As for the rest of the game, the Canucks outlasted the Bruins in overtime; and the man who scored the winning goal was none other than Burrows, the most hated man in Boston that weekend.
Then came game three. The Stanley Cup Finals returned to Boston and the noise was deafening. And five minutes into the game, Aaron Rome delivered the hit that knocked Nathan Horton out of the Stanley Cup Finals. In a span of about five seconds, the course of the series was altered after one devastating hit.
The Bruins came out of that break with their hair on fire and easily won game three. And nobody was happier than my dad, except maybe Maddie.
The next three games were relatively uneventful for my sister's development as a fan. The Bruins won the even numbered games and the Canucks took game five to send the series back up to Canada for game seven.
Every single Boston Bruins fan, whether they were a new fan or a lifer, could not forget game seven.
The Boston Bruins won convincingly and hoisted the Stanley Cup for the first time since Bobby Orr's team did it in 1972.
My sister could not have known the historical impact that came with the Bruins winning Lord Stanley's cup. All of the fans who endured season after season of disappointment. 31 different seasons the Bruins made the playoffs and none of them ended with the spoils of victory.
But the 32nd season, my sister's first season as a Bruins fan, resulted in the sports enlightenment of winning a championship. No longer were the Bruins the forsaken family member of the Boston sports family. The notions that Claude Julien had to be fired were washed away with the sands of the championship drought. The beantown triangle of champions had become the Boston new millenium square of champions. But none of that mattered to my sister.
Maddie's first experience ended with the best possible result, a championship. Whatever natural curiosity that drew her towards hockey was rewarded along with the rest of the Bruins nation. Sure she may not have been a die hard that called sports talk radio every day to complain about the game last night; but every sports fan came in different shapes and sizes. Maddie's knowledge of the game may have been minimal, and she may not have been an ace student at hockey history; but in order to just root for a team and want them to do well, none of that really matters as much as people of my ilk would like it to.
Flash forward to today, where the world is supposed to end in December and a team from Canada plays in the Southeast division. My sister's love for the Bruins continues to blossom by the day. She has already been to one more Bruins game than I have. Maddie is not afraid to let the team know when they are "playing like pansys." But perhaps most importantly, Maddie's enthusiasm for her new favorite team has shown no signs of diminishing. And thanks to the fertile soil provided by my dad, and the ample water provided by the Bruins, Maddie Dudek's love for the Boston Bruins continues to blossom.
And 2011 was a very good year to be excited about playoff hockey in Boston. Tim Thomas had broken the NHL's save percentage record and won the Veznia Trophy for best goaltender. There were four Bruins that had more than 50 points heading into the playoffs. The Bruins won the Northeast Division for the first time since the 08-09 season. The B's were fifth in the NHL in goals scored per game, third in the league in shots per game, and had a .400 winning percentage when they fell behind during games in the regular season.
But still, the Bruins were the team that my dad would get on his brother's case for rooting for. Their championship drought and continued failure in the playoffs were not acceptable in Boston; the sports city that dominated the new millennium with championships by each of the other three professional sports franchises. But hey, anything could happen right?
And something did happen, something far more spectacular in my eyes than the final score of the game (which the Bruins won 5-4). I witnessed the birth of a Bruins fan.
My younger sister Madeline entered the room and saw that my dad and I were watching the game. Maddie was not really into sports, partly because she had heard about them ad nauseum from her obnoxious brother who couldn't stop talking about them. But for some reason, she walked right in, sat down, and never left. My sister watched as the Bruins put up three goals in the second period. She watched the Bruins overcome deficits of 1-0, 3-1, and 4-3. She saw a franchise that had been synonymous with failure in the playoffs succeed. And Maddie witnessed overtime playoff hockey. By that point she was on the edge of her seat and she was fighting to hold back her excitement. Then 1:59 into overtime, Michael Ryder scored to give the Bruins the win and tie the series.
Then Maddie cheered, and it was beautiful.
The Bruins comeback win was not the first sporting event my sister ever saw, for she went with my dad, my aunt, my uncle, and I to see the Padres play, but it was the first game that Maddie saw that she ever cared about; and in my book, the first game that a person sees that they care about is the first game they ever saw.
I would say that she remembered that Padres game, but the first Bruins game she ever saw was the game that she would never forget.
There had been, is, and always will be something magical about a person's first sporting event. A person's first game would be one of their go to memories throughout the rest of their lives. It should not have mattered if a person's first game was seen on TV or at the stadium. In my case, I still almost remembered every detail about my first game upon reflection. My first game was when I was seven years old and my dad took me to see the Red Sox play the Oakland Athletics at Fenway Park. I was awestruck. I wanted to see every part of Fenway. Touch all the cool stuff, and try all the park food. I was fascinated by the trouths that Fenway had in place of urinals, despite my dad's opinion of them. And as for the game itself, the seats were the coolest things ever. They were uncomfortable, but I didn't care. I got to see the Red Sox play. I remember that first baseman Mo Vaughn hit a home run that i swore to my mom left the stadium and landed somewhere in Vermont. I never wanted that game to end, even though my seven year old self fell asleep in the fourth inning.
And my dad loved every minute of it just as much as I did.
My dad would never admit it, but seeing Maddie's budding love for the Boston Bruins must have given him more joy than watching me fall in love with sports. Long ago my dad watched me, his little Boston sports nut, become a little unbiased sports nut instead (this was due to my mom being a Yankees fan and my dad's support of the Red Sox. At some point my little brain thought "I don't want mommy or daddy to be mad at me for picking one or the other, so I'll root for neither!"; and that mentality stuck) Maddie's interest in the Bruins gave my dad his little Boston sports nut back. Not because my sister was a little girl anymore, but rather that my dad could once again show an untainted sports mind the different facets of the game through his eyes.
It would have been nice to say that I knew the importance of nurturing a newborn Bruins fan. That I could have foreseen the growth of the sapling into the Bruins fan-hood grove. But alas, that was not the case. My father had much more experience nurturing little Boston sports nuts that I would ever hope to. Also, my dad's knowledge of hockey far surpassed my own; needless to say, the caring for the newest fan newborn was best left to someone who had a pretty good idea on how to raise people.
With the seed of my sister's fanhood planted, and my dad providing fertile soil, it was up to the Boston Bruins to add the water to help my sister grow to love them even more.
Two days later, the Bruins made it rain.
The B's untied the series against the Canadiens with a thrilling 2-1 win in double overtime. Nathan Horton put in the go ahead goal to make the TD Garden erupt.
All the while, Maddie's interest in the Bruins, and the sport of hockey, became larger by the period.
As the games continued to march on, so did my sister's questions as to how the game was played.
What was the blue line for?
How do you tell who wins a faceoff?
How come the goalies aren't allowed to leave the crease?
Why did that guy leave the ice?
What is the red line for again?
All the while, my dad answered every question with just the right amount of detail. The explanations themselves came smoother from my dad's mouth than any feeble attempt I could have ever hoped to muster. He simplified every situation that Maddie inquired about in a way that made the action on the ice slow to a crawl. I can't say for sure how much of the information she retained, but in Maddie's case, not knowing as much as Jack Edwards did not mean that she could enjoy the Bruins success any less.
And the Bruins continued to have success in the 2011 playoffs.
The Bruins mopped the floor with the Philadelphia Flyers in four games. Interestingly enough, it was the Flyers that came back from a 0-3 series deficit and a three goal disadvantage in game seven of the 2010 conference semifinals to oust the Bruins.
But not in 2011, my sister's first year as a Bruins fan.
The Bruins carried their momentum into the next series against the Tampa Bay Lightning. In a series that saw a rookie take over for two games, a hat trick, a changing of the goalies in Tampa Bay, plenty of physical play, and a yet another pressure packed game seven.
But the Bruins prevailed, and Maddie continued to watch as her new favorite team went to the Stanley Cup Finals for the first time since her older brother was born.
The backdrop for the Stanley Cup Finals was as good as it got. The Vancouver Canucks against the Boston Bruins. Canada against the United States. New school execution against classic blue collar defense. And the birth of a now heated rivalry.
The first game between the Canucks and Bruins was a fantastic defensive battle that went all the way down to the final 30 seconds of the game. My dad and sister were both on the edges of their seats with the rest of Boston as Roberto Luongo and Tim Thomas made great save after great save. The deadlock continued until Raffi Torres put one past Thomas in the game's waning seconds.
It was my sister's first tough extremely tough loss as a Bruins fan. She had been so accustomed to her team keeping games close and pulling out victories. But this loss, could have broken a bandwagoner. My sister had enjoyed the Bruins success for the vast majority of the playoffs despite their previous losses. She had not experienced the kind of difficult losses other sports fans agonized for years over. Fortunately, Maddie passed a fan test that would be the standardized equivalent of the LSAT's.
Game two gave my sister the first true look at a rivalry in the making. What turned an already chippy series into a full blown rivalry. In game one, Canucks winger Alexander Burrows bit the finger of Bruins center Patrice Bergeron (allegedly). The next meeting featured Maxim Lapieere's attempt at humor by holding his finger inches from Bergeron's face. As for the rest of the game, the Canucks outlasted the Bruins in overtime; and the man who scored the winning goal was none other than Burrows, the most hated man in Boston that weekend.
Then came game three. The Stanley Cup Finals returned to Boston and the noise was deafening. And five minutes into the game, Aaron Rome delivered the hit that knocked Nathan Horton out of the Stanley Cup Finals. In a span of about five seconds, the course of the series was altered after one devastating hit.
The Bruins came out of that break with their hair on fire and easily won game three. And nobody was happier than my dad, except maybe Maddie.
The next three games were relatively uneventful for my sister's development as a fan. The Bruins won the even numbered games and the Canucks took game five to send the series back up to Canada for game seven.
Every single Boston Bruins fan, whether they were a new fan or a lifer, could not forget game seven.
The Boston Bruins won convincingly and hoisted the Stanley Cup for the first time since Bobby Orr's team did it in 1972.
My sister could not have known the historical impact that came with the Bruins winning Lord Stanley's cup. All of the fans who endured season after season of disappointment. 31 different seasons the Bruins made the playoffs and none of them ended with the spoils of victory.
But the 32nd season, my sister's first season as a Bruins fan, resulted in the sports enlightenment of winning a championship. No longer were the Bruins the forsaken family member of the Boston sports family. The notions that Claude Julien had to be fired were washed away with the sands of the championship drought. The beantown triangle of champions had become the Boston new millenium square of champions. But none of that mattered to my sister.
Maddie's first experience ended with the best possible result, a championship. Whatever natural curiosity that drew her towards hockey was rewarded along with the rest of the Bruins nation. Sure she may not have been a die hard that called sports talk radio every day to complain about the game last night; but every sports fan came in different shapes and sizes. Maddie's knowledge of the game may have been minimal, and she may not have been an ace student at hockey history; but in order to just root for a team and want them to do well, none of that really matters as much as people of my ilk would like it to.
Flash forward to today, where the world is supposed to end in December and a team from Canada plays in the Southeast division. My sister's love for the Bruins continues to blossom by the day. She has already been to one more Bruins game than I have. Maddie is not afraid to let the team know when they are "playing like pansys." But perhaps most importantly, Maddie's enthusiasm for her new favorite team has shown no signs of diminishing. And thanks to the fertile soil provided by my dad, and the ample water provided by the Bruins, Maddie Dudek's love for the Boston Bruins continues to blossom.
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