Jack Edwards' Bruins/canadiens Game 7 Wrap

Four-Three the final at T.D. Garden. Well, as I was driving from the former seat of all NHL power, Montreal, through the free and independent states of Vermont, New Hampshire and Massachusetts today, it struck me what an odd thing royalty is. Royalty, in modern times, is something that is perpetuated by those who didn't actually make those great conquering achievements and establish their reigns, but rather those who find themselves--because of a certain location in history, and an accident of birth--to be in a position to "carry on a tradition." Yet, those "royals" sit there on their shiny thrones and primp in their hand mirrors and try to dictate morality, according to them, about how you can dive or how you should play or how you shouldn't run a player into the center glass. And the rest of us--those poor, filthy masses--are just supposed to take it. Well, a couple hundred years ago a bunch or rowdy radicals charged out of some Boston bars, went down to the dock and dumped the King's tea into the salty sea. And in doing that, it struck a chord that rings true even today: that when confronted with imperious conceit, fighting the good flight is not only the right thing to do it can be a heck of a lot of fun! And who has more fun than us? For Andy Brickley, Naoko Funayama, and our NESN production crew, I'm Jack Edwards at TD Garden in Boston. The Boston Bruins prevail in sudden death in game seven against the Montreal Canadiens, and send them to summer time, Ole, Ole, Ole.