There were too many memories from the Boston Garden’s nearly 70-year existence when it closed its doors in 1995.
However, a number of media, NHL, and Bruins icons—many of whom have already departed—tried their best, in handwritten and typewritten letters to the team’s public relations department, to remember some of their favorites following the building’s closure.
Following the Bruins’ exhibition game against the Montreal Canadiens on September 26, 1995, as part of “The Last Hurrah” celebration, those memories were published in a special commemorative program.
It’s hard to choose just one or two favorite memories. My relatives delivered the
The NHL and the Bruins gave the building of the Garden the necessary rental assurances, as well as to Boston and the United States. My family has owned the hockey team for three generations and has an unbreakable bond with the Garden. For the Adams, the Garden represented family and a way of life rather than a sequence of occasions and anniversaries.
“I’ve always believed that throughout the years, Boston Garden has hosted excellent hockey games for the city’s supporters. I’m overjoyed to have participated in a fiercely competitive game of hockey in this magnificent building against amazing players. I also replaced Toe Blake as the Canadiens’ coach for two periods of a game in the Boston Garden. I am grateful to the Boston organization and the amazing Boston hockey community for all of my treasured memories.
“The audiences were merely mediocre the year I arrived from the Toronto Maple Leafs in 1953–1954, but by the end of the season, the Garden was packed with 13,909. We lost four games in a row when we played Montreal in the Semi-Finals, but the crowd still gave us a standing ovation. That absolutely jumps out to me. It felt like the crowds were very close to the rink, with the upper balconies almost on top of us, so it was amazing to play in the Boston Garden. I cherished it.
The Boston Garden holds many special memories for me, but the one that sticks in my mind the most is Bobby Orr’s goal against the Atlanta Flames in 1974. Bobby was playing that game of his (never giving the puck to the other team) and killing penalties. When the team came after him, he would move in front of his net and stand behind it. He would hide beneath his net if they pursued him there. He was murdering the penalty in the meantime.
This evening, the Flames forced him along the boards rather than pursuing him. Bobby skated into their end in the right corner and put it into high gear as he slowly made his way along the right side of the boards. The Flames did not rush him because they were afraid he would go behind his net again. The goalie, among others, fell in the corner as they all rushed at him. Bobby launched himself behind their net, emerged ahead of it, and backhanded it into the vacant net. This was the first and last time I have ever witnessed a crowd become completely silent in response to a goal; we on the bench just sat there, unable to believe what we were witnessing.
“With his head down and his stick resting on his pads, Bobby showed his embarrassment at having embarrassed the Flames.” He was nearly saying, “Sorry, guys,” instead of hot dogging or bouncing around. Bobby embodied class and was the greatest person to have ever lived or will ever live.”