By Michael holley

A few times on his hockey journey, when exasperation and thoughts of, “What do I have to do to catch a break?” crept into his head, Tim Thomas allowed himself to imagine the career that could’ve been. He minored in history at the University of Vermont, and there were moments when he wondered if he’d spend his 30s as a teacher.

After all, he was the kid with the thoroughly American story that no one in America seemed to notice. At least not the people who put together hockey teams. It didn’t seem to matter that he possessed all the Midwestern toughness of Flint, Mich., the city he grew up near. His dad sold cars, and when there were no cars for him to sell, he opened a fruit stand and his son chipped in by selling apples. It didn’t seem to matter that he had played brilliantly at UVM, compiling the most saves in school history and leading the Catamounts to the national semifinals, an elite stage they had never seen before.

Whether the team-builders were in the United States or Canada, they didn’t quite understand Thomas the way Europeans did. He dominated the North American minors and pro leagues in Finland and Sweden. But there was something about Thomas’ style—indefinable and unconventional—that the National Hockey League didn’t fully trust. He was good enough to be drafted by and affiliated with NHL teams, but when they were looking for “The Guy,” they never felt that he was the right choice.

Thomas was always a history buff, from his curiosity about the rise and fall of Rome to the details of the American Revolution. Ultimately, it was his appreciation of history that kept him on a path toward the NHL and not the classroom.

“I know my story is unique, but I’m not the first guy to get a late start in his NHL career,” he says. “Johnny Bower played forever in the minors and [became a starter in the] NHL when he was 34. He played until he was 45, and he’s in the Hall of Fame. And then there’s someone like Rick Knickle, who played for the longest time in the minors and didn’t make it in the NHL until he was 33. Those were the stories I looked toward when I wasn’t in the NHL.”

The official record says Thomas made it at 28, in 2002, when he debuted with the Bruins. He appeared in four games and won three of them. But the B’s didn’t know what they had, sent him back to the minors in Providence, and put that season in the gloves of men who are now trivia answers during drinking games. (Remember Steve Shields? Jeff Hackett? John Grahame?)

The next year, Andrew Raycroft was the name that kept Thomas in the minors. And the year after that, following the 2004 playoffs, the league locked out its players. Thomas went to Finland, played goalie as if he invented the position (he had 15 shutouts and an unheard-of save percentage of .947), and returned to the States in 2005, only to begin that season in the minors. Even when he’d play, and start and succeed, the roll call kept coming: Felix Potvin, Manny Fernandez and even his good buddy, the
       talented Tuukka Rask.

All of it seems absurd today. Last season, Thomas set a league record for highest save percentage. In the postseason, he set Stanley Cup final records for most saves and fewest goals allowed in a seven-game series. He registered seventh-game shutouts in the conference and Stanley Cup finals, a feat that the Bruins’ TV play-by-play man, NESN’s Jack Edwards, describes as “the equivalent of Don Larsen [who threw a World Series perfect game] and Bob Gibson [who won three Series games against the Red Sox in 1967] combined into one. It’s amazing.”

Thomas is the rare athlete in any of the four major American sports leagues to have this type of success story. Usually, you can pick any sport—including hockey—and the top player in it begins as a cosseted teenager. At 28, he’s in his prime. By the time he reaches Thomas’ age, 37, his career is described as being in its twilight, if not altogether over. The thought of Tom Brady, Dirk Nowitzki or Albert Pujols being relegated to backup/minor-league status in favor of multiple quarterbacks, power forwards and first basemen seems laughable. But that was Thomas’ reality as recently as 2009.

“I hope my story gives kids hope. Not just in hockey, but in life,” he says. “I’m not saying everyone has the ability to go out there and be a goalie in the NHL. But if there’s something you can do and you want to do it, you have to believe you can go out and do whatever you want.”

That’s one of the messages at the Tim Thomas Hockey Camps, where Thomas teaches young people about his all-inclusive philosophy: “My technique is actually a variety of techniques. My theory of goaltending is to teach kids a variety of them. I recommend they practice all of them and use the one they’re most comfortable with. When I was young, I didn’t really emulate anyone. Maybe I had a picture in my head of [1980 Olympian] Jim Craig and some of the saves he made, but overall it just came down to what I felt like I did best.”

There’s always a nod to history in whatever Thomas does. When he talks about his sport, he references the NHL as well as old International Hockey League teams like the Flint Spirits and Flint Generals. Perhaps it’s his upbringing or humbling, tireless pursuit to succeed, but he doesn’t possess the superstar effect. As New England buzzed about his frequent and dramatic saves on the way to the Stanley Cup, he all but shrugged. It was as if, at all times, he had his eye on a historical example of someone who’d accomplished something bigger.

He had his professorial moments during the finals, too. After the Bruins won the title in Vancouver, they were told to remain in their dressing room longer than usual. Thomas didn’t realize why until later: rioters were tearing up the city.

“Come on. People have to understand that it’s just a game,” he says. “I heard that a guy from Boston was thrown off a bridge during that whole thing. Really? For a game? I get the feeling that the people who started all of that in Vancouver weren’t real hockey fans. And maybe those people would’ve done it no matter what the result of the game had been. They were just looking for an excuse.”

Before the looting happened in Canada, Thomas, as usual, remained coolly focused on the game that he knew he could play, even if other people harbored doubts. The Bruins had played three previous finals games in Vancouver without being able to get a win, so a few guys on the team had an idea. They were going to replicate everything Thomas did at home on the road. So they packed the actual toaster in which Thomas heated his pre-game English muffin. They added the same packets of peanut butter and jelly that he used to dress it. They even brought the same plastic knives. The rest of the story is, indeed, history: The Bruins won the game, 4-0, and a man who once thought of teaching history became a part of it forever.

Credits: Photographed by Conor Doherty; grooming: Dianna Quagenti; shirt: Shipley & Halmos at the Tannery

Elsa/Getty Images; Jim Rogash/Getty Images; Harry How/Getty Images