Have you ever wondered what our beloved boys in the Black and Gold would be doing if they hadn’t gotten into hockey? Some would still be driving sleek black, mid-size cars and rock their suits as they strut in to the office with Dunkin’s every morning like they ran the place – which they would. Others? Not so much.
Who would have graduated college Summa Cum Laude and who would have been passed out completely drunk on the front lawn of their frat house with little to no recollection of the previous twelve hours?
While we may not truly ever know, one thing is for sure: we can make damn hilarious assumptions. We’re going to take a giant step back from all the drama and heartbreak that has given us serious trust issues and look at some of the fan favorites and their alternate lives as Average (or slightly below average) Joe’s.
First up? None other than:
Patrice Bergeron. Suave. Sleek. Sexy. One of the most prominent members on Wall Street. Now, he isn’t going to end up like dear Leo did and snort coke every hour on the hour just to keep himself going. Bergy runs his own branch of one of the greatest stock broker companies to date. He’s too honest of a man to skim money off the top or leave the office early to drive around his Maserati before a quick lunch break. No. He puts in extra hours, mentors new employees himself, and runs a tight, efficient, comfortable work place (casual Friday’s included). Once a month he gives a cut of his profits to a new charity of his choice, makes his own care packages for the homeless, and is an avid member in his children’s PTA meetings at school. Honestly, he should just run for president while he’s at it.
Brad Marchand. Two words: Grease Monkey. You’ll find our trustworthy Marchy down at your local shop fixing your breaks or changing your oil. He lives in a small farmhouse on the outskirts of town and drives a pick-up (naturally). You won’t have to worry about him scamming you though: He’s honest (even though he is dirty as hell 99.9% of the time). Good ol’ Brad is the kind of guy you’ll run into at the bar on Karaoke night singing the latest and greatest Luke Bryan hit at the top of his lungs, clutching on to the microphone stand so he doesn’t topple over and drop his precious beer. You might even see him trying to make a swimming pool out of the back of his truck just because he can. Good luck with this, one folks.
Milan Lucic. Good ol’ Looch, the overly enthusiastic personal trainer at your local Planet Fitness. This poor man carries around his own boom box to each and every single station he takes you too and plays every song off of Zombie Nation’s album to get you pumped up and roaring to go. You’re almost embarrassed by him jumping up and down and clapping his hands at his own attempt of cheering you on while you’re sitting there struggling for breath absolutely soaking not only your clothes, but the equipment. Every day after the two of you have finished, he makes you his own special protein shake that stinks up the café for at least two hours. You never drink it (Thank. God.). Think the hell is over? Oh, no. Not only do you find inspiration sticky notes all over your car, he jumps out just as your opening your door with yet another Zombie Nation song playing and makes you do ten more jumping jacks. This man… he is relentless.
Dougie Hamilton. Ah yes, our fair skinned, red-haired, boy-next-door type is exactly everything you imagined him to be: A pizza delivery boy. While taking day courses at his local community college for criminal justice, you can find this sweet thing roaming the lonely streets of his hometown at night delivering delicious pizzas in his beat-up old Toyota Camry blasting Dave Matthews and banging along on his steering wheel (his singing is a bit less than lackluster, but we love him, anyway.). After he comes home after a long day working the grind, he plops down in front of his television with a 2-liter of Mountain Dew, a bag of Nacho Doritos, and his headset on and controller in his hands, ready to kill some zombies in his whitie-tighties and Dorito dust staining his favorite Zelda t-shirt. What a special little fruit.
Tuukka Rask. Picture Grey’s Anatomy type of nurse. With those luscious brown curls and eyes that could kill, Tuuks absolutely drives the girls wild when he strolls into their rooms to check their vitals and change their bedpans. He wears powder blue scrubs with an Iron Man pin on his left shoulder pocket every day. Other nurses at Mass Gen have taken it upon themselves to nickname him their own McDreamy. Tuukka could care less who hears his heavy metal blasting from the earbuds hanging around his neck as he strolls the sterilized halls; taking us to the next topic of discussion. His sass is absolutely potent; you never want to ask this one about his take on x-rays. Just don’t. “Why would anyone in their right mind feel the desire to swallow a bobble head? Why? You know what this guy is? An asshole.” Oddly enough, you’ll find this fiery fin spending a lot of his time caring for the little ones down at NICU or in the newborn center; bringing them little toys or leaving Hershey Kisses on the table next to their bed. What a softie.
Reilly Smith. Smitty is the embodiment of every teenage girls “Hot Teacher” fantasy. Reilly has taken it upon himself to fill in the English instructor position at his old high school while taking online classes for his Masters Degree at night. He hangs up posters of his favorite Marvel heroes around the room with comic books placed in alphabetical order lining every empty surface he can find. Every other Friday he shows classics such as Good Will Hunting or Almost Famous so that the kids today will appreciate good cinema. No matter how horrible his accents or impressions are, it never stops him from trying to get a laugh or two out of the class (Don’t ask him to do Gandalf for the love of God the man has his own collectible staff). Oh! And yes; Reilly wears a bowtie.
Zdeno Chara. It’s hard to picture Chara not being like Karen from mean girls. Just imagine him grabbing his own man-boob in the pouring rain of South Boston and saying into the camera: “There is at least a 30% chance that it’s already raining” with that absolute crazy look in his eyes and that creepy “I may or may not kill you” smile plastered on his face. He scares nearly everyone in the studio, the cameras even needing custom heighteners so that viewers could see his face as he gives them the daily weather report (to which next to no one can understand).
Carl Soderberg. Our big fair-haired Swede loves nothing more than pastries as he opens up his own bakery in Back Bay. He wears this stained, white apron every single day that plainly reads, “Kiss the Chef” in big, bold, red letters and a large, white chef’s hat. Bostonians absolutely adore his baking and compliment him on his canoli’s nearly every hour on the hour. For some odd reason, Carl loves to play some good ol’ classic Johnny Cash and Elvis while the shop is open. No one knows why, and no one asks. When being complimented as baking just like they do down at Mike’s Pastries, his response was, “No. I bake like Carl”, and threw the man out of the shop. Classy.
So there we have it. Some of the best boys on the team with jobs that are nowhere near hockey related in any form. From pizza delivery boys to Stock Brokers and Grease Monkey’s, the alternate universe of our Big Bad Bruins as Average Joe’s didn’t seem to fail in entertaining.
Now that we’ve taken a small breath out of the drama that still ensues around us, what are we to expect from the rest of the offseason? Is Chiarelli ever going to sign Krug and Smith back on, especially when there’s more offers starting to come to the surface? What is the game-plan looking like for the season opener? So many questions, so little time with no answers coming our way. All that’s left to do now is sit tight and finish the ride. May Lord Stanley Be With Us.