Survivor: Boston.(My Turn)

Everyone gets engulfed in sports in Boston. It's part of the way of life. There's no way out of it other than to, well, vote yourself off the island. My dad used to take me to Bruins games at the Boston Garden. We used to take the train in together and stop at this restaurant every time. It's funny, the little things you remember as a kid. I remember they had this strawberry butter for the rolls. It was the biggest thrill: "We're going to the Bruins' game, and we're gonna get strawberry butter!"

Before the games would start, the Bruins would warm up and practice shooting on the goalie. All of the kids would run up to the glass and try to get a puck from them. Some of the players would come over and throw one to us. I amassed something like 20 or 30 pucks in a couple of seasons. My brother and I used to set up a little hockey rink in our basement. We'd dress up our younger sister in a goalie uniform, stick her in the net and tire pucks at her.

But when they ripped down the Boston Garden, I think it took a little bit of the heart out of the fans. I still have that vision in my head, of driving down the old expressway and seeing the Garden ripped in half from the demolition. They used to have Celtics games and Bruins games hours apart in the Garden. And there would be people trying to sneak and hide in little nooks and crannies, hiding in the bathroom, so they could stay for both games.

You think of Boston sports, you think of Carl Yastrzemski, Ray Bourque, Larry Bird. And, of course, Bobby Orr. Bourque, he's unbelievable. I remember going to the MVP Sporting Goods store as a kid and waiting hours and hours in line to get Bourque's autograph. My dad held my hand until I got up there. I was so excited when I met him.

I don't even remember how old I was when I got my first Red Sox hat. A couple of weeks? I've always been a Red Sox fan, constantly waiting for them to win it. My grandfather was born in 1918, right after they won it, and ...