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GREATEST MOMENTS OF A HOCKEY FAN

"It's cold and clear in Toronto and the Leafs have a two-to-one lead." The unmistakable voice of Foster Hewitt giving the score, spiced with a weather update, was my introduction to the Stanley Cup playoffs.

The CBC's "Hockey Night in Canada" provides a delightful diversion from the horrors in the Middle East, fears of terrorism and watching Catholic prelates duck the truth of their terrible service.

I know these are tough days for Sabres fans, but remember, only three years ago they were in the finals and the Cup was within grasp.

The first series I remember was in the mid-'50s, when there were only six teams in the league. Four teams made the playoffs and the first-place team played the third-place team, while the second played the fourth.

The winners of those series then played in the finals and, presto, you had a Stanley Cup Championship. Now there are four rounds of playoffs and we're into the summer before the Cup is carried around the ice.

Foster Hewitt's play by play brought added excitement to an already-exciting game. In later years, his sound-alike son Bill did the same. For me, the Stanley Cup playoffs were always a welcome joy of spring and I became a devoted Toronto Maple Leafs fan, an allegiance I proudly keep.

I recall my cousin Franny Boyle taking my brother Donny and me to the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto and catching my first glimpse of the Hockey Hall of Fame. For a kid of 10 it was a thrill to see the memorabilia of hockey immortals and see the great Stanley Cup itself.

For some reason, no other trophy in sports seems to hold the mystique of hockey's symbol of supremacy, but years later I actually got a bit tired of the Stanley Cup.

Hockey's provided me with a great deal of entertainment and memorable experiences. We've got highlights:

• Playing in outdoor backyard rinks, and the work it took to flood them and keep the ice surface in shape. One of my favorites was at 18th Street and Cleveland Avenue in a vacant lot nestled between St. Paul's Lutheran Church and the Forsters' home. Best ice in the neighborhood.
• Goalies wearing burlap potato sacks stuffed with old pillows as pads.
• Hitting my brother Donny in the eye with a stick. The accident gave us both a bloody scare and we learned hockey can be dangerous.
• Watching the Niagara Falls Flyers 1967 Memorial Cup Championship team. For my money, Derek Sanderson and company were the greatest Junior A team ever, and you could have made an entire NHL roster from those guys.
• Watching Sabres Hall of Famer Gilbert Perrault take his first skate on Western New York ice in 1970 at the newly-opened Hyde Park Ice Pavilion, where the Sabres held their first camp. There were no numbers and we didn't know what he looked like but, as soon as he skated, it was obvious. No one was faster and smoother.
• Going to the Sabres' first game in the old Memorial Auditorium. It was against Montreal and the Sabres got creamed, but it was such a joy to see the NHL finally in Western New York. I was with my brother-in-law Cy Talarico, a loyal Canadiens fan. He made some intemperate remarks to a few Sabres fans, which could have created a riot, but we made it out safely.
• Spending a weekend in Toronto with Reporter Publisher Bruce Battaglia, and another brother-in-law, Richard Shiah, and his uncle, Jack. At that time, the Maple Leafs' General Manager was Jimmy Gregory, the Shiahs' cousin from Duneville, Ont. Jimmy took care of us in fine fashion. We registered at the hotel as members of the visiting Boston Bruins, and our room cost a whopping 15 bucks. We watched the game from the gondola press box at centre (Canadian spelling) ice, and after the game (which the Leafs won) we went to the Leafs' dressing room. Boston's great Bobby Orr was injured that night and didn't play. King Clancy, a legendary Leaf figure, was talking to reporters, bragging about the team's performance. "We can beat Boston anytime," he bellowed and then whispered in our direction, "Any f...king time they don't have Bobby Orr."
• Going to Montreal on a Pete Hopka excursion extravaganza. We took the train and Pete, who grew up in Montreal and once played with the junior Canadiens, was the ultimate host. I don't remember much about the game at the Forum, but I do remember the wild snowball fight after the bars emptied out.
• Catching the Sabres in the playoffs against the New York Rangers in 1978. My boss at Carborundum, George Howick, was a big hockey fan. Playoff tickets were hard to find. My friend, state Senator Lloyd Paterson, had remarkable sports connections from his years as the Deputy State Athletic Commissioner. As always, Lloyd took care of us and we had great seats. Howick and I, with other friends from work, were cheering wildly for the Sabres. The Ranger fans in front of us were perplexed. Then they explained the Rangers team actually owned the fine seats we occupied.
• The Detroit Red Wings finally winning the Stanley Cup again after a long drought. Detroit's a great hockey town and the night of the victory in 1996 was a blast. I had to work until dawn, but when you win, the exhilaration keeps you going.
• The following year, the Wings repeated and the Russian players on the club took up the tradition of players bringing the Stanley Cup to their hometowns. For a week I traveled with the players and their families as they proudly displayed what the Russians call Kupa Stanley. It was a poignant moment on Red Square when Slava Fetisov carried the Cup to Lenin's tomb. Slava was the first Russian player to sign on with an NHL team and knew the symbolism of the moment. He was telling Lenin he took on his repressive system and won.
• While going to Igor Larionov and Slava Kozlov's hometown, I met a Canadian who lived in Russia and was a big Red Wings fan. Doug Steel was an old classmate from Niagara University. He invited me to stop at a bar he owned in Moscow. My photographer Alex Korniyenko, who grew up in the old Soviet Republic of Moldavia and spoke Russian, and I headed off to Steel's bar, the Hungry Duck. It was draped with Red Wings banners. Doug asked me if I wanted any Cuban cigars. I told him I didn't smoke, but I knew my boss liked an occasional cigar.
  We stayed till the wee hours, and the most decadent bar on earth was still hopping as we got ready to leave.
  Doug hollered, "Wait a minute."
  He came back and handed me not one, but two full boxes of Cuban cigars ‹ Monte Cristos and some other brand I wasn't familiar with. Doug insisted, telling me he enjoyed my company. When we got back to Detroit (shucks, I forgot to declare those cigars, but I guess they're not allowed in the country anyhow), I gave them to my boss. He was stunned.
  "You're kidding," he said. I knew Cuban cigars were expensive, but I had no idea just how expensive.
  One of my friends asked me why I gave him both boxes. I said, "You might forget one box of Cuban cigars, but you'll never forget two, and besides my contract is up."
  The boss puffed away, and I signed a long-term deal. Hockey's been good to me.

Niagara Falls Reporter

www.niagarafallsreporter.com

May 7 2002