I know you hate it when I call you that, but I want to establish a serious tone with you because well, this is a serious letter. It’s probably one of the hardest letters I have ever had to write. What happened to us? I’m really at a loss here, Timothy. You were my hero, I chanted your name, and I drank in honor of you and your heroic feats over Montreal, Vancouver, New York and Tampa. I drank in quantities I hadn’t fathomed since my days as a college freshman. You showed me great love, so much so that it caused me to hug and high-five random strangers in the streets. The best gift you ever gave me was that ornate cup decorated in the names of hockey legends. I know you knew how long I prayed for that cup and you made that happen for me, which is something I am forever grateful for.
I think that is why I’m having such a hard time with this break up, Tim. I’m so angry with you and your rash choices, but I find myself reminiscing and remembering all the good you did, and the great times we had together. Remember when you fought Carey Price for me? It certainly wasn’t your best attempt but it’s the thought that counts and you never were much of a physical fighter. Remember when you grew that playoff moustache for me? It was like facial hair of the gods, a hockey god. Remember in 2009 when you won the Vezina Trophy in your Boston uniform? You were the first Bruins goalie since 1983’s Pete Peeters to bring me such honor. Remember when your save percentage was .940 in 2011? You were so trustworthy, a true stone wall, I felt protected by you and I knew you would stop at nothing to protect me. I know I sound like a broken record Tim, but despite the negative I can honestly say that on my dying day, I will always remember that you singlehandedly brought Lord Stanley’s cup back to me in almost 40 years. Do you remember how happy we were? I miss that feeling, I miss you. I miss who you were and what we had together.
But now, I can’t help but feel betrayed by you and by your political rants. You stood by such hatred with Chick-Fil-A, you were absent from the team’s White House visit, and then you ran off to Colorado where you currently remain, unreachable. Tim, movie producers have been approaching me to turn what we had into a movie. Tim, I spent so many nights worried, confused and hurt by your lack of remorse. I looked up to you, I stood by you, I wore the number 30 proudly on my back, and that’s how you treat me? It’s like you’re a complete stranger.
But I think I can finally see the other side of this. I’m ready to move on and although my trust is broken, I will mend and find another. Tim, I really think the New York Islanders is a good move for you. I wish you the very best. I hope that you look in the mirror next year, after you’ve shaved off your Grizzly Adams Colorado beard, and you remember what we had. It really was something special. I know my children’s children will speak of it on family holidays. I hope you take what we had with you to New York and that you share the passion, the determination, and the drive you possess, with a young team that needs a mentor and a leader to look up to. They need a man who struggled and fought tooth and nail to become a hockey legend and a legend to me, one of the toughest cities out there. I’m ready to let you go but I promise I’ll never forget you. I’ll rest easy tonight knowing that you still have some jaw-dropping saves up your sleeves. Just don’t forget to stretch.
God Speed, Tim Thomas.
The City of Boston