The empty-net sealer that was lofted over a defender's head was the ball dropping in Times Square. The place went nuts. Years ago I would have been one of those delirious fans, being a suffering season ticket holder from the late '60s to the late '70s. We did make the finals once, but as the now departed coach Emile Francis commented after losing the 6th game to the Bruins at Madison Square Garden, "Bobby Orr killed us." Bobby Orr killed a lot of teams.
The names of the Rangers are pretty much unknown to me. I remember Chris Krieder as a veteran player, as I do Mike Zibanejad, but all the other names are who? No matter. The memorial 7 that the players are wearing on their jerseys are for the now departed Rod Gilbert. The hockey players and coaches I remember are now passing away.
Where do all those white towels come from that fans are waving like a shipwrecked someone stuck on an island as a freighter passes by, hoping to be sighted? We didn't have towels to wave in my time.
There's a ban the bomb song from the '60s that goes..."where have all the flowers gone." In my mind, where did all these Ranger fans come from, outfitted in what are not cheap jerseys going crazy? Did their dad take them to a game as mine did when I think my first game was at the Old Garden when The Montreal goaltender Jacques Plante got smacked in the face, went off for repairs, and came back wearing the mask he had been experimenting with in practice. Toe Blake, the general manager and coach of the Canadians was not a proponent of goalies wearing masks, but had to give in.
When Plante left he ice, there was a somewhat lengthy delay before the game started because in the '50s the NHL didn't dress two goaltenders. Times change. And coaches are not general managers, and there are at least three more assistant coaches behind the players on the bench. And there are iPads to watch replays and diagram plays. There are replays and time outs, and now two referees. There is now advertising on the boards, and on the players' helmets, which they are now required to wear. Not so "back then."
This playoff series is the first for the Rangers in four years. I wasn't aware that they had gone four years without making a playoff round. My fandom is limited to television, when I can remember they're on. Televised hockey to me just never captures the game. The two dimensions of a TV screen, no matter how big the screen is or how high the resolution is, is never as good as being there.
I've been part of a crowd of delirious fans, and interestingly enough the most epic game I ever saw at the Garden was the triple overtime win against the Chicago Black Hawks that also kept the Rangers alive in the playoff round. It was the 6th game of the series, the Rangers miraculously coming out of their losing cocoon after defeating the Toronto Maple Leafs in an overtime win in 1971 in the prior round.
When Bob Nevin scored that goal on wobbly legs I was watching the game at home since the game was in Toronto, and promptly went out and bought a six back at a local bar in Flushing and celebrated by myself at home. I called in sick the next day and went to the racetrack.
When Pete Stemkowski scored the goal in the 3rd overtime against the Black Hawks that night the concession stands at the Garden had already run out of beer. When the second game of the Ranger series against the Penguins this year the game entered a third overtime as well, it was reported it was the longest game played at the current Garden, a little more than five minute after the start of the overtime.
Huh? Well, how long into the third overtime was it before Stemmer popped one into the net? From my season seat vantage point in Section 333, Row M, Seats 5& 6, I distinctly remember that just shortly before that delightful goal, Black Hawk defenseman Pat Stapleton was leaving the penalty box. Stemmer's goal wasn't an overtime goal, but it was close.
Imagine being able to read about the game in the next day's paper. It's all there. Imagine a hockey box score. The oxygen in the dressing room, Brad Park quoted as saying he was tied of going back out there, the rebound stuffed in past goalie Tony Esposito after Teddy Irvine's shot, the fans who "bellowed, raised their fists, hugging whoever was close enough, tossing programs toward the roof."
There will be no Gerald Eskenazi byline on last night's game. There was none after the 2nd playoff game when the longest game at the "new" Garden (1968 is hardly new to some people) was played. Yep, it was 1:29 seconds when Stemmer scored. They were right, The 2nd Ranger/Penguin game was the longest in Garden history, since when? Well, it was not reported by the paper of record, a paper that will tell you journalism is the first draft of history. It isn't if you don't write about it.
The 1971 game was the second longest in Garden history when Eskenzai tells us it was 1938 when the New York Americans (yep, there were two New York teams playing at the Garden) defeated the Rangers 40 seconds into the fourth overtime on March 27th, a game that ended at 1:25 in the morning.
The 1971 triple overtime finished at two minutes to midnight (weekday games then started at 7:30). My friend Andy and I spent the next hour celebrating at a Blarney Stone on 33rd Street. I made a 1:20 train home to Murray Hill, and made it into work the next day. I don't think Andy made it in.
I had to make it in to take Derby bets. NYC OTB had just started in March and I had a phone account from Day 1. One of the women I worked with liked the story about Canonero II and his funny leg and the fact that the was the only horse in the field that had even been in a 1¼ race in Venezuela. She gave me $4 to bet on him to win.
In those days, pari-mutuel racing could only go up to 12 unique numbers in the betting. If there were more that number in the race the longshots were lumped into what was called a "field." However many horses were in the field, you in effect had a bet on all of them since they were all number 12.
The newly formed NYC Off Track Betting (OTB) did not recognize "fields." Every horse was a separate bet. So while at Churchill Canonero II and his three entrymates were morning line 20-1, Canonero II's odds at OTB were soaring.
When Canonero II won I was happy for Tina, since she was now going to get back $118 when I got the check. But I was worried that telephone betting was going to work and that my account was going to be properly credited. It was. I paid her, and she bought me a book as a thank you that I wish I still had because she inscribed it.
1971 is a long time ago. I'm sure there were plenty of people at last night's game who are as old as I was then. And because they are an entirely different generation, 51 years from now they are not going to wish the NYT had written about the game. They are not used to reading a newspaper, period.
My 14-year-old granddaughter is shown a short news clip in school from CNN for current events. A newspaper has always been in my life, and it's hard to think of their diminished role in being the paper of record.
http://www.onofframp.blogspot.com
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