We give you Exhibit A: T.J. Oshie’s hit on Bruins blueline wunderkind Charlie McAvoy with 1:38 to go in the third. Nasty. Unnecessary. Cheaper than the last suit that sold off the rack at Filene’s Basement.
The game was over, the Bruins in the midst of nursing a 6-3 lead over the finish line. Oshie, with no interest in playing the puck, unloaded on the vulnerable prey that was McAvoy, the ex-BU blueliner who was already off-kilter as he sped toward the puck near the Caps bench. Nothing illegal about the smack, at least not by the standard set by the NHL Department of Player Safety, but it was a cheap and dangerous play that could have left McAvoy in a world of hurt.
We won’t know about McAvoy’s status until Friday, when the Bruins return from their holiday break. Post-game, Bruce Cassidy said he appeared to be OK, but we should take that as standard coach speak after a game. Post-game “OKs” have a way of turning into a string of “day-to-days.”
Most telling, though, and of deep concern for the Bruins, was that Oshie didn’t have to answer for the hit. The referees said nothing. McAvoy’s teammates did diddly. And the band played on, the only answer to it all coming 1:10 later when Patrice Bergeron potted one into an empty net, his second strike of the night, for the 7-3 curtain closer.
McAvoy was road kill as he struggled back to the Boston bench, then sat there looking like some pulverized Looney Tune character, that hapless sap who reached into the oven with a lit match, asking, “Gee, let’s see, do you think the gas is on?”
So, who in a Black-and-Gold sweater might respond to such a thing? Monday night, no one. Crickets on an inordinately warm December eve.
Last June, when it was vital, they weren’t as tough as the Blues. If they’re fortunate enough to see June again, then Monday, Dec. 23, should be the night they learned there are some insults that just can’t be ignored. Some parts of old time hockey endure.
The game was over, the Bruins in the midst of nursing a 6-3 lead over the finish line. Oshie, with no interest in playing the puck, unloaded on the vulnerable prey that was McAvoy, the ex-BU blueliner who was already off-kilter as he sped toward the puck near the Caps bench. Nothing illegal about the smack, at least not by the standard set by the NHL Department of Player Safety, but it was a cheap and dangerous play that could have left McAvoy in a world of hurt.
We won’t know about McAvoy’s status until Friday, when the Bruins return from their holiday break. Post-game, Bruce Cassidy said he appeared to be OK, but we should take that as standard coach speak after a game. Post-game “OKs” have a way of turning into a string of “day-to-days.”
Most telling, though, and of deep concern for the Bruins, was that Oshie didn’t have to answer for the hit. The referees said nothing. McAvoy’s teammates did diddly. And the band played on, the only answer to it all coming 1:10 later when Patrice Bergeron potted one into an empty net, his second strike of the night, for the 7-3 curtain closer.
McAvoy was road kill as he struggled back to the Boston bench, then sat there looking like some pulverized Looney Tune character, that hapless sap who reached into the oven with a lit match, asking, “Gee, let’s see, do you think the gas is on?”
So, who in a Black-and-Gold sweater might respond to such a thing? Monday night, no one. Crickets on an inordinately warm December eve.
Last June, when it was vital, they weren’t as tough as the Blues. If they’re fortunate enough to see June again, then Monday, Dec. 23, should be the night they learned there are some insults that just can’t be ignored. Some parts of old time hockey endure.
