Apple Hill is in New Hampshire which is deep into Boston sports territory. Before I got here, and as the Stanley Cup Final wore on and ON (seriously, that series was insufferable), I began to get increasingly concerned about the chances of having to watch a game 7 in the company of Celtics/RedSox/Patriots fans who were posing as Bruins fans just because there was a championship on the line. As luck would have it, that is EXACTLY what happened. (THIS MEANS WAR, HOCKEY GODS. W! A! R!)
I wound up basically siding with the Bruins because it was the path of least resistance. I didn’t exactly cheer for them, I mostly just admitted that the Canucks were AT LEAST as revolting, only they don’t even have Tim Thomas being impossibly likable. (No matter how much you hate the Bruins, you have to have a heart of stone to hate Tim Tom.) Plus, I didn’t want to be that person rooting against the home team just for the sake of rooting against the home team. That person is a jerk, and exactly NO fun to be around.
Game 7 was a harrowing experience. Fortunately I had a rehearsal, so I only had to watch the third period, but still. It was rough.
I sort of enjoyed being able show off the Cup and all its traditions to my hockey-newbie friends (“Look! There’s the Cup! See the guy carrying the Cup? Taking care of the Cup is that guy’s full time job.” Then a little bit later… “Now everyone in the arena is going to boo the ever-loving crap out of Bettman. Why? Because that’s what you do.” And later still… “Chara will get the Cup first. The owner doesn’t get the Cup until every single player has hoisted it”), but I was also prone to sudden outbursts like, “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU UNDESERVING BOSTON FANS JUST WON THE CUP! THERE IS NO JUSTICE IN THIS TERRIBLE WORLD. I HATE EVERYTHING.”
My friends were very tolerant of my anti-Bruins tirades because I really tried hard to be comically outraged (as opposed to just outraged-outraged), and because they took pity on me. I mean let’s face it, what’s more pitiful than a diehard Buffalonian being subjected to the half-hearted celebrations of a Bruins Stanley Cup win? Not much.
What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m incredibly relieved hockey has finally gone away for the season, because those playoffs were wicked lame.