Last night the New York Rangers gave their fans the best Christmas gift of all, first place in the Atlantic Division. It’s been a long time coming. And for as much as I complain and say nay, I am proud of each and every player on the team. I’m even beginning to have more faith in John Tortorella. No contribution, no matter how much or how little, should go unnoticed.
The Garden was rocking last night and I don’t think the crowd gave a damn about HBO being there. The fans were there to cheer on their boys and celebrate vanquishing a mortal enemy. Although I was hoping for another shut out for Henrik and for a blow out, 4-2 will certainly do. If Marty Brodeur wants to see what a real rivalry is like, he should watch Rangers in 60 today.
Even though is was a pleasure to see unhappy faces in orange jerseys exiting the building with their tails between their legs, I was most unhappy hearing Ranger fans boo-ing Jaromir Jagr. Jagr carried this franchise on his back and brought the franchise back to respectability after the lockout. He holds the Rangers’ all time season scoring record. Anyone who boo-ed him should be ashamed of themselves.
The best Christmas present of all was to watch the game in the bosom of Section 409 and share it with old friends like Bobby and Ron Doda and Joe and Tim. I think back fondly of the days when the 7th Ave. side of the section was all together. We missed Nick, Kevin, John the Hat, Matt, Mike, George and Joanne last night. We know you were all watching somewhere. Here’s a big high five for every goal the Ranger’s scored. We will always be together in spirit.
I would be remiss if did not thank my dear friend Nick Annunziata for so generously sharing his season tickets with us and enabling us to enjoy watching the team and the game we love best, live. All the happiness and blessings of the season to you and your family.
Before the game yesterday we wandered around the City taking in the Christmas spirit. As I watched all the people buzz around, it reminded me how wonderful New York City is and how proud I am to be a native New Yorker and a fan of the New York Rangers.
We visited the Museum of the City of New York where we saw some possessions that once occupied the house of Clement C. Moore. He wrote “A Visit From St. Nicholas” better known as “T’was the Night Before Christmas”. The Moore family’s estate “Chelsea” is commemorated by Clement C. Moore Park on 10th Ave. and 22nd Street. Moore was a native of the West Side. If he was alive today he would surely be a Ranger Fan.
I’d like to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas, Channukah, Kwanza, Festivus or whatever holiday you keep. Let’s hope our Rangers can keep their battle level up through the New Year.
Here in it’s entirety is the Clement C. Moore poem:
| A Visit from St. Nicholas |
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| by Clement Clark Moore |
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'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
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Posted under New York Rangers
This post was written by m hurley on December 24, 2011