Sunday, Dec. 1, the Boston Bruins will host the Montreal Canadiens in a 4:15 pm game commemorating the 100th anniversary of the first official Bruins game in franchise history, a 2-1 victory over a Montreal Maroons (also an expansion team) on Dec. 1, 1924, at Boston Arena.
The rink that was home to the team before high demand brought forward a Boston version of Madison Square Garden has been known the past quarter century as Matthews Arena on the campus of Northeastern University. It is said to have at least one more full winter of hockey coming (2025-26) before it, like Boston Garden did in the late 1990s, falls to the financial weight of the wrecking ball.
As Boston Arena, the original home of the Bruins, Matthews looked a lot different. It had no balcony, and the rink was oval shaped at the ends. A cement wall remains behind the end boards at both ends of the rink, outlining what once was. Photo by Mick Colageo
Everyone likes a family heirloom until they have to be the one that stores it. Same for the cathedrals of our sport.
Through so many glorious events celebrating Bruins history over this season and last, mortality’s grip is reflected not only via the aging out of the arenas where we watch and play hockey but in the Bruins of our youth. Those larger-than-life hockey heroes who drew us in and ignited the big bang of professional hockey in our lives, an experience that over 60 years has not gotten old for this fan, have been reappearing these last couple of years.
The likes of Phil Esposito, Wayne Cashman and Gerry Cheevers, rarely seen around Bruins events throughout a new-arena era on the cusp of 30 years old, have been around lately.
Wayne Cashman with Willie O’Ree. Photo courtesy Boston Bruins
Cheevers was in town recently to present the Sports Museum’s Hockey Legacy Award to Brad Park at the museum’s annual Tradition fundraiser. “Cheesie” was awesome when we spoke on the phone for my article in the event program, a volunteer task I look forward to every October. When I spotted him on the TD Garden floor shortly before the patrons were rounded up for the official presentations on the stage facing the North Station-side Loge sections, I thanked him for 1977. It took a moment for Gerry to realize the what-for was the semifinal sweep of the Philadelphia Flyers that, while not a Stanley Cup victory, was the next biggest thrill of my life as a Bruins fan. “Oh, I loved that more than anything,” said Cheevers, who twice won the Cup with the Bruins.
There was something bitter about that Bruins-Flyers rivalry stemming from the Cup final loss in 1974 and another beating in the ’76 semis that constituted its own big bang for a new era of Bruins hockey lacking the same superstardom but brought out a passion in Bruins fans that really defined what it meant to bleed black and gold.
Only the most-accomplished team of NHL’s expansion era stood between them and the ultimate prize, and those Bruins were the only playoff opponent to take late ’70s Montreal to 2-2 in a best-of-seven series, something they did twice, in the 1978 Cup series and in the ’79 semifinal.
Similar to the late 1950s Bruins whose best fell short against the dynastic Canadiens of Rocket Richard, so the late ’70s Bruins were a special group that bonded with their fans like few teams ever do in any sport.
Having returned from the World Hockey Association, Cheevers was a wily old veteran in his mid 30s at the time, but he still had some great hockey in him and he put it on display with every little positional trick, reducing Bobby Clarke from the sport’s preeminent battler into a minister of complaints.
When the series ended with the Bruins shutting down the Flyers, Garden organist John Kiley was expected to play “Paree,” the Bruins’ theme song. Instead, he ignited a sing-along with “God Bless America,” the patriotic hymn that the Flyers were famous for pulling out at desperate times with Kate Smith at the microphone. This time, it was a balcony of satisfied Bruins fans singing through their beer suds, spraying out the chorus as the Bruins and Flyers shook hands. When the Flyers left the Garden ice out the side gate, the Bruins, headed toward the corner Zamboni gate, and Kiley turned the keys to Paree. The Bruins were going to the Cup final to take on Montreal. The building shook.
I’ve never been able to think back to that night without welling up tears of joy, how my hockey world was back to right side up.
Everyone who has grown passionate about Bruins hockey has such a moment, or a few. If you’ve been around a long time, it may be many.
I will never forget my first night in Boston Garden, Jan. 25, 1968. The Bruins got shut out 2-0 by a maskless Rogie Vachon. Bobby Orr was still 19 and had yet to grow out his crewcut. Jean Beliveau, Henri Richard, Phil Esposito, Johnny Bucyk.
I’d been to Fenway Park and loved being in that ball park watching Tony C and Yaz make perfect warmup tosses into each other’s baseball gloves. As thrilling as it was, this was entirely different. The Bruins were captivating my mind via the radio and Fred Cusick’s Sunday highlights show. I wanted to go to a game, but I had no idea what it would be like so that, when it finally happened thanks to my dad’s childhood pal from Hyde Park, season-ticket holder Frank “Squeeky” Esposito, I trudged through the brown sidewalk snow along Commercial and Causeway streets like a kid going to see Santa in The Polar Express. Up the ramp to a poster of Bucyk, then another ramp. What looks like a janitor’s closet opens and – BOOM – it’s the corner entrance. I cannot believe how big the scoreboard looks hanging slightly off center, how I can see the faces of fans up in the second balcony behind the Coming Events sign through the smoky haze and the many floodlights aiming at the ice. The “original six” team flags, that funny cluster of speakers and many hanging wires. The Garden is so closed in. I am mesmerized.
Cheevers and Vachon are at opposite ends of the ice but seem so close, almost like a street-hockey game in the driveway. Esposito has the puck bearing down the right boards coming at me. He gets pinched off at the side boards but slides a backhand toward the goalmouth where a young Ken Hodge crashes at Vachon. It’s a scramble. The sellout crows lets out an extended OH! I’m 11 and I have lost my mind. I launch into an aimless sprint down that main aisle separating the Loge and Stadium sections, ironically caught by my older brother in front of our exact seat location opposite the Bruins bench. My dad, who’s understandably upset, tells me he has a good mind to take me right home, but I knew he wouldn’t and I honestly didn’t care what tomorrow would bring. This is the greatest night of my life.
Having taken my seat (Section 1, Row E – the first section after the concourse aisle), upon the Bruins’ next scoring chance I begin to rise when a hand gently rests on my shoulder … “Son, this isn’t the ball game.” Got it.
Leno “Lelo” Grasso makes new ice in his open-top Zamboni, tips his Fedora to a sprinkle of cheers, and the ice is ready for the second period. This is going fast, too fast. To borrow Andre Agassi’s oft-employed phrase in his autobiography “Open,” I’m not ready for this to be over.
But I have to face up to the strong possibility that seeing Espo, Orr, Cash, O’Reilly, Bourque, Nifty, assembled at Saturday’s unveiling of the Centennial Bear is only going to happen again on Sunday on TD Garden ice. Then that’s it, never again. It was a thrill to see Cheevers and Park earlier this month. It was a thrill at the beginning of the 2023-24 season and again today to see Orr and Esposito sitting together, sharing a laugh.
Oddly, Johnny Bucyk was not present, especially as he had been scheduled to conduct interviews with the attending media. That did not happen. I don’t feel particularly worried about it. I presume fans asking me for an answer to “where was Chief?” will get that answer tomorrow. But his absence today reminds me that this indelible generation of Bruins hockey is temporary.
In this sense, I feel especially blessed that I’ve never tired of the Boston Bruins or hockey in general. The Park-Ratelle-Middleton-O’Reilly-Sheppard-Jonathan-McNab Bruins of the late ’70s taught me there is life after my Orr-Espo-Bucyk-Sanderson-Dallas Bruins, and Raymond Bourque taught me that there is a great life even after them.
Whatever your big bang, if it took, you never leave. You just don’t. You’ll learn to love again.
It’s a special hold that a team, its characters, its colors and its logo, can have on a person.
For some people of the FleetCenter era, it’s Jumbo Joe and Sergei Samsonov. For others it’s been Patrice and Big Z, and even 2011 is starting to feel like a long time ago, as captain Brad Marchand spoke eloquently about how playing for the Boston Bruins has provided him with a life he could not have dreamt of but now he has. Moments like today’s make me wonder less about his next contract.
An ownership long presumed to be impersonal but never has been was represented today by Bruins CEO Charlie Jacobs, a son of Jeremy Jacobs (who bought the Bruins in 1975) who has his own journey as a fan. It was fun to see Charlie so full of joy expressing how much it means to him to enjoy the connection that the Bruins have with the neighborhood, the city and the region.
Team president Cam Neely has played a huge role in strengthening that connection that the ownership has with Boston and New England hockey fans via the Bruins and the many things they do away from the rink.
Quietly off to the side stood Bob Sweeney, the former Bruins centerman/RW and Alumni president who has been key these past two decades to the growth of the franchise’s game off the ice via the Boston Bruins Foundation, the brain child of a conversation he had 20 years ago with Charlie Jacobs about expensive tickets and working families. The technical term is fan engagement, but what developed through the efforts of many people like Mike Dargin and Tommy Songin is what makes the Bruins such an involved citizen. Governor Maura Healey spoke about it rather emotionally in her short time at the podium.
For 100 years, the Bruins have been, to many, more than a hockey team. For anyone at least knowingly braving the cold breeze during today’s celebration, this dedication was a once-in-a-lifetime event.
Marchand the influencer will keep doing his best to farm up the next generation of Bruins who will feel the same pride in the crest, and there will be another generation of fans who will be forever influenced by their own hockey heroes, their own indelible memories, and in decades ahead will glow at the thought.
Note on Sunday’s Centennial Game vs. Montreal at TD Garden: The pregame ceremony begins at 3 pm, and the faceoff is scheduled for 4:15 pm.
Rink Rap with Mick Colageo 
my favorite memory of going to the old garden was march 20, 1969. Bobby orr’s 21st birthday. Crowd sang happy birthday to Orr before the game. During the game Bobby hull scores two goals in the third period and set an NHL record for having 55 goals in a season probably breaking his own record. With one second left Bobby Orr scores to give the bruins a 5-5 tie and breaks the record for goals scored by a defenseman with 21 set previously by Flash Hollet. After the game my father takes me to the east lobby and both players plus others sign a hockey stick , which I brought, which I still have today .
LikeLiked by 1 person