The Return of the Big, Bad Bruins
The fact that labor regulations and personnel contracts have gotten more Byzantine since the 2004 lockout for the National Hockey League are well known. Or would be more well known if anyone realized the National Hockey League returned from its lockout. The lack of leagues of geeks willing to spend hours of their day entering salary data, cap value, trade deadline scenarios, and intense (some might say obsessive) prospect scouting also negatively impacted the shroud surrounding the general roster status for any given club at any given time. No one even claimed to understand it, or attempt to explain the process and state of affairs to any one else (if, theoretically, the situation existed where more than one person cared about the National Hockey League any longer might occupy the same room at the same time - a team of scientists from Boston University and the University of Minnesota are currently working on a Scenario (in either the Philosophical or Physical sense, they haven't determined yet) in which this case has quote-unquote "special" properties) the way one did for other sports like football or baseball.
So when the Boston Bruins pulled into San Jose, California to play the San Jose Sharks in the inaugural Ringling Brothers-enforced road trip for the B's, facing a number of Bruins people probably back in the old Hub probably thought still played for the Bruins, the minor scuffle in the halls outside the locker rooms drew some television cameras. As they arrived, and Rob Simpson of NESN slipped from the NESN and Dunkin Donuts backdrop where he was interviewing Patrice Bergeron prior to the puck dropping, old Jumbo Joe Thornton could be seen being escorted by Mike O'Connell and MIke Millbury, who were both wearing Bruins jackets and whistles. Mike Millbury could be forgiven the whistle, as he'd been rumored to be the next coach of the Bruins during the tumultuous start to the summer in which Dave Lewis was fired by first year general manager Peter Chiarelli. By all accounts, however, he'd not been made coach of the Bruins, the choice falling to former New Jersey Devils man, Claude Julien. Mike O'Connell, deposed general manager who was replaced by the aforementioned Peter, however, had no excuse for the whistle, and simply led credence to the rumor that he had something of a whistle fetish, which may or may not have been the prime motivation behind letting him go.
They were escorting Joe, dressed in pads, a pair of black hockey pants, and skates, at this stage, down the hall to the Bruins locker room.
Mike O'Connell stopped in front of the bank of cameras. "I am very, very, very pleased to announce the next phase of our rebuilding." There was an uncomfortable silence amongst the news corps. "Now, I know a lot of you have heard that I've been relieved of my general managing duties, but, thanks to Joe's status as a non-eligible free draft agent of the third order, any deals done with or about him during his so-called 'sheep bladder' year, in which he is one year away from going from non-eligible to eligible, are heretofore eligible for reconsidering and reversal in under two years after the date on which the transaction was made. In addition, according to something drafted late in the day by Gary Bettman during the labor negotiations, was that the enacting general managers at the time of the trade were the parties who had to re-enact, or, more correctly, un-act the transactions were able to return and effect the deal."
Further silence from the press corps, this time slightly less uncomfortable. They'd learned to roll with the punches well. Most of them figured this was some bizarre trial by fire the network was putting them through until they could cover the Red Sox or maybe even the Revolution.
"So as of today, Joe Thornton is once again a member of the Boston Bruins. As is Sergei Samsonov. And Glen Murray. Wait, I'd never traded him. Anyway. As is Cam Neely. Now I know we'd added him back into the front office as Vice President of something or other, but while I was away from the game I traveled far and wide. I wound up in a back alley in Taiwan, where I met a little man with one cloudy eye and whom I'm never seen walk, he only sits Indian-stylewho claimed certain... powers. Certain powers that we were looking for."
Two massive security guards came through the throng wheeling a little man on a hotel baggage cart down the hall. "Master Sensei Kenwah from Taiwan, ladies and gentlemen." The press corps clapped, politely.
"Master Sensei Kenwah has an amazing power... with knees. Folks, let's bring him out." The doors of the Bruins locker room swung open, and Cam Neely stepped out, wearing the number 88 jersey, helmet straps not yet tied under his chin. "Cam will be anchoring the top line on the right. His knees, over the last four months of intensive treatment with Master Sensei Kenwah, whom I will now refer to as simply Kenny, because that title is just too damn long, have been one hundred percent healed. The calcified bone has, well, I don't know the technical term for it, but they've uncalcified, and he's ready to go. We're talking to Bobby about coming back, but he's pretty happy hanging out these days, so he's not 100% on board. Also, he doesn't like goat meat, which apparently figures largely into the treatment of Kenny's."
A few of the press clapped. It wasn't clear if they were clapping about the news about Bobby Orr not liking goat meat or the news about Cam's knees.
"Thank you. We'll see you in April, fellas. Let's play some hockey."
But it didn't matter. The Bruins were, big, they were bad, and they were back. Also, the game in San Jose was called that evening, because Gary Bettman also changed his mind about all these expansion clubs, and the game had to be played, the next night, back in Winnipeg.
disclaimer:
If you like this kind of sport writing you should most definitely go pick up Further Fenway Fiction from your local bookshop. Right now.
UPDATE: Speaking of Further Fenway Fiction, the founder of Sane Magazine will be amongst the "Friends" of Adam Pacther and Friends appearing at Back Pages Books in beautiful, scenic Waltham. Details here.
Really. And that book is about a mainstream sport. Called baseball. You might have heard about it. And thanks to the Great Sox Marketing Machine, you've probably heard of the team it's about: the Boston Red Sox. The Head Editor's story is a little story called "The Curious Case of Doctor Belly and Mister Itcher."
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