Bay Side
March 4th, 2006, 8:42:59 AM
http://bfloblog.com/?p=739
With the raising of Number 16 to the top of HSBC Arena, another generation was introduced to the beauty of the person and the player known as Pat LaFontaine. Before the game tonight, I decided to pop in the tape of the Sabres last game in the old barn, the War Memorial Auditorium.
Asking for volunteers, and receiving a half-hearted commitment from SonTwo, I fast-forwarded until I saw the wise, thin face of Seymour H. Knox III, one of the two Knox brothers who brought NHL hockey to Buffalo along with Robert Swados, Bob Rich, and a myriad of other smaller investors way back in 1970. Knox was dying as he spoke, literally. Everyone in attendance knew he had cancer, so the evening wasn’t just a goodbye for the Aud, but it was a goodbye, and a “thank you” for Seymour as well.
As usual, I choked up right on cue, exactly when Mr. Knox bid goodbye to the “old girl.” And again when Rick Jeanerette said he had “One wish. A wish (he knew) could not and would not be granted,” in hoping that Ted Darling could be standing next to him. And then they lowered the banners from the roof. Prince of Wales Championship, Adams Division Championships. Tim Horton, Rene Robert, Rick Martin, Gilbert Perreault.
Then the Sabres first captain, Floyd Smith, took over the MC duties and introduced the Sabres who would take a last lap around the Aud ice. Rene Robert, Rick Martin, Don Luce, Craig Ramsay, Larry Playfair, Mike Wilson (Mike Wilson? How my body shuddered upon seeing number 34 on the ice again), Brad May, and finally, his hair bouncing along with his quick, smooth slides across the ice, Pat LaFontaine.
And they took their last lap, the Sabre Dance in all it’s glory accompanying them, pacing their strides. May left the puck for the Captain, and LaFontaine made a huge sweep around the ice, behind his own net, and bore down on the tunnel-end net. And he stopped. Looked up to the crowd, raised his fist in a half-wave, and tucked the puck softly into the net. The house lights cut out, and a lone spotlight shone on the puck. And then it started. “Let’s Go Buff-a-Lo! Let’s Go Buff-a-Lo!” For about four minutes.
And my youngest, who is three and who had been watching quietly finally spoke: “Daddy, why are you crying?” Because I have so many happy memories in that building, I said. Going to games with my Poppy, or my Dad, or my Uncle. Growing up there. I saw every Sabre from 1975 until they closed the place. In high school, I took dates there (it was a test). Later, I was there for LaFontaine’s and Mogilny’s wonder season of 1992, with my buddies, for the best hockey year ever. Done with school, no real responsibilities yet. Just the Aud, our corner bar, and some amazing hockey.
Then I watched the retirement ceremony tonight. My boys and the Missus watched as well. I misted up a bit a couple times, especially when our boys came out in the only jerseys the Sabres should have ever had. Ever. And it was great seeing all the old Sabres again, and seeing Pat looking so amazingly like he did nine years ago when he left, and hearing the love in his voice for his family. And those highlights? Oy! We haven’t seen anything like it in ten years.
So congratulations Patty. You have no idea what you meant. Actually, I think you do.
With the raising of Number 16 to the top of HSBC Arena, another generation was introduced to the beauty of the person and the player known as Pat LaFontaine. Before the game tonight, I decided to pop in the tape of the Sabres last game in the old barn, the War Memorial Auditorium.
Asking for volunteers, and receiving a half-hearted commitment from SonTwo, I fast-forwarded until I saw the wise, thin face of Seymour H. Knox III, one of the two Knox brothers who brought NHL hockey to Buffalo along with Robert Swados, Bob Rich, and a myriad of other smaller investors way back in 1970. Knox was dying as he spoke, literally. Everyone in attendance knew he had cancer, so the evening wasn’t just a goodbye for the Aud, but it was a goodbye, and a “thank you” for Seymour as well.
As usual, I choked up right on cue, exactly when Mr. Knox bid goodbye to the “old girl.” And again when Rick Jeanerette said he had “One wish. A wish (he knew) could not and would not be granted,” in hoping that Ted Darling could be standing next to him. And then they lowered the banners from the roof. Prince of Wales Championship, Adams Division Championships. Tim Horton, Rene Robert, Rick Martin, Gilbert Perreault.
Then the Sabres first captain, Floyd Smith, took over the MC duties and introduced the Sabres who would take a last lap around the Aud ice. Rene Robert, Rick Martin, Don Luce, Craig Ramsay, Larry Playfair, Mike Wilson (Mike Wilson? How my body shuddered upon seeing number 34 on the ice again), Brad May, and finally, his hair bouncing along with his quick, smooth slides across the ice, Pat LaFontaine.
And they took their last lap, the Sabre Dance in all it’s glory accompanying them, pacing their strides. May left the puck for the Captain, and LaFontaine made a huge sweep around the ice, behind his own net, and bore down on the tunnel-end net. And he stopped. Looked up to the crowd, raised his fist in a half-wave, and tucked the puck softly into the net. The house lights cut out, and a lone spotlight shone on the puck. And then it started. “Let’s Go Buff-a-Lo! Let’s Go Buff-a-Lo!” For about four minutes.
And my youngest, who is three and who had been watching quietly finally spoke: “Daddy, why are you crying?” Because I have so many happy memories in that building, I said. Going to games with my Poppy, or my Dad, or my Uncle. Growing up there. I saw every Sabre from 1975 until they closed the place. In high school, I took dates there (it was a test). Later, I was there for LaFontaine’s and Mogilny’s wonder season of 1992, with my buddies, for the best hockey year ever. Done with school, no real responsibilities yet. Just the Aud, our corner bar, and some amazing hockey.
Then I watched the retirement ceremony tonight. My boys and the Missus watched as well. I misted up a bit a couple times, especially when our boys came out in the only jerseys the Sabres should have ever had. Ever. And it was great seeing all the old Sabres again, and seeing Pat looking so amazingly like he did nine years ago when he left, and hearing the love in his voice for his family. And those highlights? Oy! We haven’t seen anything like it in ten years.
So congratulations Patty. You have no idea what you meant. Actually, I think you do.