So Gregory Campbell blocked a shot, broke his leg, and finished a shift. It was courageous, in the way these things are, and—to state the obvious—unworthy of this hallowed analogy, which Edwards presented (naturally) on WEEI. There will forever be a great gulf between the sacrifices of soldiers and hockey players, even fourth-liners.


But all that said: God bless Jack Edwards. Too many of the play-by-play men who hold big gigs today are so serious and bland, distinguishable only by the pitches of their voices. They treat fun games as solemn stuff, in hopes that one day they will have the chance to treat Buccaneers-Panthers solemnly on Fox's fifth-string NFL team.

Jack Edwards has no such careerist compunction. He's an old-school salesman of the highest order, a homer and a loon. We imagine he will never be invited to return to his national gigs—he used to do all kinds of broadcasts for ESPN (SportsCenter, Little League, MLS)—but we like him better this way, batshit but unquestionably a Boston original.