The end was drawing near; the book would be officially sealed shut with playoff condolences, unfulfilled seasons, leaving you with a dismantlement left in your mouth that you can never swallow. The Boston Bruins concluded their 2013-14 season Wednesday Night in front of their home crowd faithful. Who were all right beside them, dangling on the back's of emotion. Enjoying the ride of what this season carried out.
In the ever so sickening sense, something like this was doomed to happen. Right? A season full of turmoil brought the most complete team during the regular season in recent memory. 4 lines could beat you on any side of the ice, a goal tender who slipped out of his "bend, but not break shell" molding himself into a leader for an unforgettable run to hockey's grand prize. Something that was became destined on everyone's minds after 2013's Stanley Cup run, ending in a cloudful of heinous sorrow and grief.
Turned out to be ill-forgotten. Key players uniting a city, team into believing they were the best team in the NHL. Mostly throughout this season, it became evident to be true. No flaw nor blemish could be spotted with Boston, the President's Trophy Champs. Any style of play; physical roughing you up inside a telephone booth, or up tempo offense. Nothing, absolutely nothing was capable of derailing Boston's foreseeable goal except the minds of their own players and staff.
After the captivating series victory over Detroit, in which the Bruins pushed Detroit down into a coffin. Wrapping the series up in just a quick 5 games. Rest was no excuse this time. In the main scheme, Montreal out played Boston in every faucet. Confiscating away the only strand of advantage from Boston. Mentality. Not only is the physical aspect of the game provides an enormous spin to the result. But, not letting your emotions of the task at hand seep away from your grasp, is truly an even more critical turning point.
Sure Boston had more depth to throw around, more parts in a cohesive set, better coach. Yet, the deciding factor was Montreal's performances hinged on 2 players. P.K. Subban had no business out smarting Boston, forcing them off their game. Carey Price may be a decent goal tender, but let's face it he is no Con-smythe Winner at all. Beating him high was the ultimatum of beating him. Some luck was provided with a plethora of pucks dinking off the posts, landing on top of the crease.
That is the thin line of the game, playoffs. The opinion would be completely turned on its head with a win. Just like anything, it heals wounds provoked by time. Dennis Seidenberg, the most toughest players missed the majority of the season. Was a glue guy rallying around players to keep fighting. Unlike Chicago, Boston can't find 1 particulur individual who stands out. Shows up as a gamer down the stretch. Tuukka Rask at times hid and bailed when he was needed. Hot goal tending can get you through a lot of flaws.
Losing to your most hated rival in the most gut wrenching reality in sports leaves a subsided feeling that will haunt for eons. The pain and agony only goes away with glimpses of glory. Jerome Iginla, yet again falls short of capturing his most devoued gem. Moving on from the loss, when rocking a child on your lap you don't say "Hey I witnessed a President's Cup winner". You don't just say that without unleashing a little tamper of haste.
The sun will shine tomorrow like any other day. Only you can't feel the unwanted disappointment, feeling of coming up short in season's end. You just don't what the feeling.