I'm kind of torn up after witnessing such an epic pants crapping by Tom Brady and The New England Patriots two nights ago. With an explosion feces of such a magnificent caliber, the eyes of your average Boston sports fan will be averted to the next home team and draw much deserved attention to the Bruins and a fairly decent Celtics team. With the Red Sox still weeks away from what will surely be an orphanage fire of a season, I would wager the lines to board the Boston Bruins bandwagon are going to start filling up very soon, that is, after everyone gets over the shock of seeing so much human excrement spilled across the turf at Gillette Stadium.
Honestly, the best thing about the squeaky wheels of the band wagon pulling up to the Garden is turning someone completely ignorant to hockey into a Bruins fan. The progression is slow, a lot like rabies in the way it comes on. We, the carriers of this wonderful malady of Bruins fandom watch as the virgin mind twists into a snarling steel trap of statistics, history, and fervent opinion.
Stage one, or the prodromal stage, is characterized by an overall change in the behavior. Game by game fewer questions are asked as the game rules and regulations soak into the mind. Bathroom breaks are only taken between periods. Finally, in the eyes of the infected, Jack Edwards becomes less a raving maniac but more and more an amusing and insightful commentator.
The second stage, or the furious stage, finds the infected often screaming at Milan Lucic to "pick it up" through the television screen. He or she will often question if Claude Julien understands the concept of a power play. The final and most disturbing symptom of the furious stage is the presentation of wandering. Between commercial breaks or periods the infected will pace between rooms incoherently muttering. An example of this is the mumbled questioning of a rival goalie's sexual orientation followed by a flurry of curse words both of and alien to the English language.