The remains of a Landmark – MSG
When I was 10 years old, my sister’s boyfriend, Hank, (later to become my brother-in-law) introduced me to the world of ice hockey. I started to watch a number of games on TV and then he took me to a game at Madison Square Garden on 8th Avenue and 49th Street in Manhattan, where the New York Rangers played. Hank had season’s tickets to the Rangers (at $52 for the season)
Up until that time I only was into baseball and knew very little about this sport of ice hockey. After going to the game and seeing it live, I was hooked.
I became an avid New York Ranger fan. Hank took me to a number of their home games.
From January to July in 1963, Hank had to leave for U.S. Army Reserves training. He was not permitted to have a radio to listen to, or keep track of, hockey games.
As a twelve year old hockey fan, I took it upon myself to listen to every hockey game I could, and I transcribed the action in writing, so that I could share it with Hank. It is not the simplest thing to do to transcribe a hockey game that’s on the radio or television, but I tried.
Five years later, the New York City Landmark, Madison Square Garden is going to close down to be replaced by a brand new building at Penn Station. The final Ranger game at Madison Square Garden was on February 11, 1968 against the Detroit Red Wings, and I had a ticket.
For me, the game was not memorable. The game ended with the Rangers coming back from a 2-goal deficit and ended with a 3-3 tie.
The memory I have occurred at the end of the game. This was the last event that was going to held at the old Garden, and everyone knew it. Therefore, fans went crazy. Many people felt that it was important to have a piece of memorabilia from the old Garden, so they took whatever they could, as they left. Seats were destroyed as fans broke them apart and carried them away. I personally was not strong enough to break any of the seats, however, someone in their haste did manage to leave behind one slat from one of the seats on the ground that I managed to purloin on my out, and slip under my jacket.
That board remained in my possession at my parent’s apartment until my mother passed away and we were cleaning it out. At that point, I was 47 years old, an avid New York Islander fan, and saw no value in an old piece of wood that had no way of being identified. It got tossed out with the rest of the things we did not want to save.
