Last night Tim Thomas, the goalie of the Bruins when they won the cup in 2011, laced up his skates and played his former team.
At first it was awkward to watch. He was my jersey, my first one I bought late the Spring in 2011- My hair was longer, my best friend was planning her wedding, I was still living at my dad’s working at a job I hated, I was casually dating my ex. I remember finally saving the money to get it-walking into the pro shop with my head held high. My friend, Andrea took a picture of me the first time I wore it. (It was just over two years ago and I look so young. A LOT has happened since then.) The thing goes down to my knees. It’s tattered and torn from many games and nights staggering home from the bar. It smells like walking down Comm Ave in Allston seeing the riot police with wide grins on their faces. The week I bought that thing was the last time I recall feeling any level of innocence or naivety. I can’t go back to being that girl- my face even looks different to me, my body though thin has gotten much curvier, my mind is sharper.
Watching Timmy making dive saves from that hole in the wall bar in Chicago, wearing my Chris Kelly jersey, drinking a PBR, my helmet on my lap I couldn’t help but be temporarily overwhelmed with how different it all is, and how it all is. At the same time, it felt incredible seeing one of my all time favorite players stop the puck in such a way that is still unreal to me- even if he was playing against my team.
It felt like 2011 all over again. I was momentarily innocent.