Hi everyone, I am writing this post whilst standing in line at the Tobin Bridge.  There are about 13,909 Bruins die hard fans here all  lined up to hurl themselves off the highest point on the bridge due to the sheer misery of last night’s loss.  I figured as my final act before throwing myself into oblivion with all of these other fine Bruins-obsessed folks, that I would talk to some people and maybe find out what is going through the minds of the fellowship of the miserable.

First I spoke to a man named John Doe.  He was wearing a Bruins hat, a Bruins replica game jersey (black), Bruins pajama pants, and had Bruins shoe laces on his black and gold sneakers.  He looked very tired, as if he hadn’t slept since “the good old days” which is how he referred to life as a Bruins fan prior to the start of game four.  “I can’t take it,” said Mr. Doe.  “I can’t stand the thought of losing to those damn Chicago Blackhawks with their damn bandwagon fans.  I watched game two in a bar on the South Side of Chicago and I had one guy ask me if a goal was worth seven points, like a touchdown.  Another ‘fan’ says to me, ‘so if the ‘hawks lose tonight they’re out of it, right?’  One other fan took me aside during a commercial break and asked me, ‘what is this icing thing they keep talking about?’  I wanted to slit my wrist right then and there, but then we won the game so I celebrated like crazy for a couple of days instead.”

Later I spoke to a curiously dressed woman who told me her name was Jane Roe.  She was wearing a wedding dress that had a big spoked B painted on it.  After last night’s loss she took a black sharpie and covered the dress with black ink.  She even colored her veil black.  I asked her why she was wearing a wedding dress on the Tobin Bridge and she said she couldn’t remember.  She thought it had something to do with trying to tie the happiest day of her life, her wedding day, to the happiest day of her hockey life, winning a second cup in three years, but she said the details were fuzzy.  “I’ve been drunk since overtime started in game four,” she said.  I asked her why she was on the bridge and all she could say was, “Bergeron’s in the hospital.  No Bergeron, no cup.”  She repeated it constantly before her turn on the edge arrived.  Just before she threw herself off she looked relieved and said, “I’ll never have to live in a world where we lost the Cup to the friggin’ Blackhawks.”

A third gentleman I saw was wearing an impeccable tuxedo and holding a home made tin foil replica of the Stanley Cup.  I tried to ask him his name and what brought him to the bridge, but all he would say was, “friggin’ Jagr.  So close.  No goals.  Friggin’ Jagr.”  He stood there patiently for a few hours as fan after fan ended it all in Stanley Cup misery.  Then out of nowhere he lost his head completely.  He started screaming obscenities and forced his way past the security to the front of the line and then lept into thin air yelling, “screw you, Corey Crawford!”  It was one chaotic moment in an otherwise orderly mass hockey suicide.

That pretty much sums up the scene here on the Tobin.  Most people won’t talk.  They just stand there, waiting patiently for their turn on the ledge.  Most look dazed, pale, confused.  They are wondering what happened.  They are unable to figure out how the Bruins could be down three games to two to Chicago and they frankly can’t take it anymore.  The line is moving at a steady clip.  I figure my turn should come right around the start of game Six tomorrow night.  Maybe if they can get off to a good start, those who are still in line might change their mind for a while.  Umm… Bruins?  Speaking on behalf of everyone here… we could really use a win tomorrow.  I mean… really.  Really, we could seriously use a win tomorrow.  Just saying.  No pressure or anything but.  We sort of NEED A WIN.  If you know what I mean.

Go Bruins!