Boston vs. New York

The Bruins were in town to play the Rangers last night. And speaking of the "From the Blue Seats" archives, here's something I wrote in 1998 about a similar such matchup of the teams.
+++++++++++++++++
by Michael R. DiLorenzo
January 9, 1998

After the abominable loss by the Rangers to the Capitals last night, I thought we'd shift gears and talk about something more important than trading Kovalev or starting Cloutier.
As a Ranger-backer living in Boston, it's important to me that New York finish higher than the Bruins in the final standings.

While New York tried to reload to recapture the Stanley Cup, Boston has gone the other way, getting young guys and rookies to spearhead a resurgence. To date, Boston's young guns have compiled a better record than New York's hired guns.

But there's an even greater recipe for success and it lies in the fabric of each city. With that scientology in mind, here's how the teams stack up head-to-head.

CLAM CHOWDER:New York has Manhattan Style. Boston has New England clam chowder. If you've ever been to Durgin Park and had the clam chowder, you know you would step over your own mother for a bowl. Outside of linguine and clam sauce, tomatoes and clams should not be seen in the same room. Advantage: Boston.

BARTENDERS: New York has the guy at the East Side's "Around the Clock" that bought me a round after I got punched in the face by a strange woman. Boston has Steve a k a "Dean Smith," the friendly North Carolinan who buys me every third beer. Advantage: Boston.

BARS: New York has the oldest ale house in America, McSorley's Old Ale House. "We were here before you were born," they say. They wash the glasses in dirty water and you have to order beers by the twos. You can order 20 beers at a time. Boston has the Beacon Hill Pub, "Home of the Average Looking Woman." Advantage: New York, by KO.

ARENAS: New York has the Most Famous Arena in the World. Boston has the FleetCenter. Advantage: New York.

GARDENS: New York still has Madison Square Garden. Until the wrecking ball comes down, Boston has Boston Garden *and* the Boston Beer Garden in Southie. Mmmm ... beer. Advantage: Boston.

BASEBALL STADIUMS: New York has Yankee Stadium, which no matter how much tradition I pile into, I still can't park my car outside of. And forget about Shea. Boston has Fenway Park, home of the Green Monster and right next to the Baseball Tavern. Advantage: Boston.

ACCENTS: New York has the wise guy accent. Boston has two accents, Harvardian and Arlingtonian. The wise guy and the Arlingtonian cancel each other leaving the Frasier Crane Harvardian. Advantage: Boston.

NEWSPAPERS: New York has the Times and Post. Boston has the Globe and Herald. The Times owns the Globe. The Post is better than the Herald. The Globe Sunday sports section is the weekly bible of enthusiasts throughout New England. Advantage: Boston.

SITCOMS: New York has "Seinfeld," "Taxi" and a million others. Boston had "Cheers" and "Goodnight Beantown." "Cheers" outlived its usefulness. "Taxi" ended too soon. We wanted more. Advantage: New York.

CRIME/DRAMAS: New York has Manhattan South's "Kojak." Boston had George Peppard as "Banancek." Theo Kojak had Crocker and Stavros as sidekicks. He always had lollypops. Banacek had a Jack Lord hairdo, tons of broads and drank martinis. Clearly a fictional character. Advantage: New York.

PRO WRESTLERS: I'm not aware of any pro wrestlers from New York. Boston has "The Duke of Dorchester" Pete Doherty and Domenic DeNucci. Advantage: Boston.

MOVIES ABOUT THE MOB: New York has "The Godfather," "Good Fellas," and "Donnie Brasco." Boston has "The Friends of Eddie Coyle," starring Robert Mitchum as a small-time mobster-turned-stoolie. It contains footage of an Orr-era Bruins game. Advantage: New York.

RECENT REAL LIFE MOBSTERS: New York has John Gotti and Sammy Gravano. Boston has Whitey Bulger and "Cadillac" Salemme. We love the name "Cadillac." We're afraid of "The Bull." Advantage: New York.

BASKETBALL COACHES: New York has Jeff Van Gundy. Boston has Rick Pitino. Pitino dresses well, used to coach the Knicks *and* he went to UMass. Major points there. Van Gundy is ugly and self-deprecating. Advantage: Boston.

FOOTBALL COACHES: New York has Jim Fassel and Bill Parcells. Boston has Pete Carroll. Back in grade school, Parcells was a class bully while Carroll got beat up a lot. Advantage: New York.

GUTTER SNIPE ATTENDING PRO FOOTBALL GAMES: New York fans are unbearably loud, but only when they are shouting out things they obviosuly have no idea about. And I'm there rooting for the Giants. Boston football fans are the drunkest, dirtiest, rudest people who ever walked the earth. You wouldn't take a sailor to Patriots games. Advantage: Tie.

BRIDGES: New York has the George Washington, among dozens of others. Boston has the Tobin, the Arthur Fiedler Footbridge and the Mass. Ave. Bridge to Cambridge. The fact that Boston has a footbridge of any kind carries a lot of weight. Advantage: Tie.

NEIGHBORING STATES: New York has New Jersey. Enough said. Boston has Connecticut, Rhode Island, Vermont, New Hampshire and it used to *own* Maine. As soon as New Jersey was declared a state, real estate prices in New York went down 50 percent. Meanwhile, Bostonians can get maple syrup from Vermont. Advantage: Boston.

TERM FOR ICE CREAM TOPPINGS: New Yorkers say "sprinkles." Bostonians say "jimmies." I'm a little uncomfortable with "jimmies" going on my ice cream. Advantage: New York.

NEIGHBORHOODS: New York has Hell's Kitchen. Boston has Mission Hill. I don't know about you, but if Hell has a Kitchen, I don't want to live there. On the other hand, you are a 50/50 shot to be killed just driving through the Hill. I'll take my chances. Advantage: Boston.

PIZZA: New York has Lenny & John's in Brooklyn. Boston has New York Style Pizza on Mass. Ave. You can't name your pizza after another city's and expect to win this contest. Advantage: New York.

CITY NICKNAMES: New York is the Big Apple. Boston is the Hub. The Big Apple is nice, but calling yourself "the Hub" is just so arrogant, you have to believe Bostonians think the world revolves around them. Advantage: Boston.

CAB DRIVERS: In New York, you are almost guaranteed that your cabbie doesn't habla ingles. In Boston that's much the case too, but one time in every hundred you'll get a "Sully" or "O'B" to pick you up. I even had a woman cabbie here in Boston once! Advantage: Boston.

REAL WORLD CASTS: New York's was an original. Boston had the worst cast ever. You wanted to crawl into the TV set just to dope slap Genesis, Elka or whoever. Advantage: New York.

CELEBRITY OWNED EATERIES: New York has Mickey Mantle's. Boston has Buzzy's Roast Beef, purportedly owned, at least in part, by Jay Leno. Mickey was a legend, but Buzzy's is the place where the grotesquely obese go to get fat. I can hit Buzzy's any night at 3 a.m., get me a burger, clam strips, roast beef, fried half-potatoes and probably get a swig of Thunderbird from the whino lying under the picnic table. Advantage: Boston.

COLLEGES: New York has Columbia, NYU, Fordham and St. John's, among others. Boston has Harvard, MIT, Tufts, BU, BC and Northeastern. Columbia may not be Harvard, but BC is overrated and everyone gets into Northeastern. Advantage: Tie.

COLLEGE ATHLETIC ACCOMPLISHMENTS: Fordham had "The Seven Blocks of Granite," CCNY won the NCAA's and NIT in the same year and St. John's had Louie Carnesecca. Holy Cross won the NCAA crown and BU is a really good hockey school. But how cool was Doug Flutie's pass to beat Miami back in '84? Advantage: Boston.

HIGH SCHOOL HEROES: New York had playground legends Connie Hawkins. The Hawk's legend has been preserved mostly through word-of-mouth and he was banned by the NBA for awhile for gambling. Plus, I'm not even sure he went to high school. Boston had Bobby Carpenter, who scored four third period goals to lead St. John's Prep to a 5-4 win in the state tournament. Hockey beats hoops any day. Advantage: Boston.

So, the final tally looks like this:

Boston 15, New York 12, with three categories tied.

Reaching into the Archives

February 22 wasn't only the 29-year anniversary of the US Olympic Hockey team stunning the Soviet Union at Lake Placid; it marked the 10-year anniversary of my dad's death. Blogs aren't as new as you might think, and I actually had one 10 years ago (and it was called, "From The Blue Seats"). Here's a hockey-steeped tribute I wrote to my dad back then.
++++++++++++++++++++++
March 9, 1999

He was never a player or a coach. Heck, he didn't even know how to skate. But he had a background in hard work and an advanced degree in Ranger heartbreak that he instilled in two sons.

On February 22, 1999, the heavens acquired one of the great Ranger fans of all time, my father, Bob DiLorenzo. You might say that he was traded for a lifetime of fond memories and gratitude.

My father and I were particularly close, and nothing made us as close as playing, watching and talking sports. In particular, we both loved the New York Giants and the New York Rangers.

Dad came to hockey through the back door. The son of poor immigrants and living in Brooklyn, there was little opportunity to play or follow hockey. As a kid, he spent his time as a New York Baseball Giants fan in a neighborhood of Brooklyn Dodger followers. He'd go to Ebbets Field and watch the Dodgers for 10 cents, and even saw a no-hitter thrown by a guy named Ed Head.
Through high school, his athletic ability helped him achieve modestly on the gridiron and occasionally on a sandlot, where he claimed to have been a solid lefty first baseman and .300 hitter.

After high school, he moved to Alameda, Calif., to attend San Jose State University. As a member of the Class of 1952, the Sharks weren't even a glint in the NHL's eye and there was no real opportunity to follow pro hockey. Instead, Dad became a good sparring partner for the Spartans' national champion boxing team and he even rubbed elbows with the famous, claiming to drink his morning coffee with future San Francisco 49ers Head Coach Bill Walsh. Four years later he became an officer in the US Marine Corps. and there were more important things going on in Korea than on any hockey rink.

But after the conflict, Dad moved back to New York to work for the US Customs Dept. A little more money in his pocket, he started to follow the happenings of the Rangers at the old Madison Square Garden. He became fascinated with the game and the noisy atmosphere that he claimed "would lift you out of your seat" after Ranger goals. Of course, by this time the Rangers were at least 17 years removed from 1940 and things would only get worse for them. But the fans, and especially Dad, would keep coming back.

As the late 60s and early 70s approached, hope appeared in the form of the GAG line. The elegance of Jean Ratelle, the brutality of Vic Hadfield and the complimentary Rod Gilbert would be sure to bring home a Stanley Cup, Dad thought. Unfortunately the Boston Bruins had Bobby Orr, and although Dad insisted that Brad Park was every bit Orr's equal, he may have been viewing things through red, white and blue colored glasses. Boston was the better team and would postpone the Rangers trip down the Canyon of Heroes. Luckily for Dad, his Knickerbockers were winning world titles in 1969 and 1973, helping allay any frustration.

Interestingly enough, Dad moved his tribe of four to Boston in 1975. An area steeped in scholastic hockey tradition, Boston afforded the opportunity to get involved at the grassroots level. Soon, his oldest was playing youth hockey and Dad was getting his fill by watching future stars at the local high school. Guys like Bobby Brooke (ironically, a Ranger later in life), Tom Barrasso, Bob Sweeney, Jeff Norton and Allen Bourbeau.

I was a little too scared to try hockey back then. Scared of trying to skate and falling down. Dad never pushed hockey on us, although there was certainly plenty of it to watch on the television. There was no cable TV back then, so Dad settled for watching--and hating--The Bruins. He didn't like how announcers Fred Cusick and John Peirson were such homers, especially when Boston played the Rangers. In fact, when the Rangers weren't all that good, Dad would adopt the Islanders as his playoff team and then relish when Clark Gillies would give Terry O'Reilly a working over.

By this time, I was already a huge Bruins fan, although I selected ex-Ranger Park as my favorite player. Dad didn't care, but I think he was a little excited when I went to him to say that I was ready to lace 'em up myself. Sure, it meant even more weekend mornings of waking up before dawn to get us to a rink, but I don't think it bothered him. Me playing hockey was an opportunity for us to spend more time together, both as he tied my skates and as we drove to games in the early chill of a Boston morning.

Soon thereafter Park signed as a free agent with the Detroit Red Wings and the USA Network had the NHL television contract. With a decreased allegiance to the Bruins and an increase in exposure for the Rangers, Dad was delighted to welcome me to the Fellowship of the Miserable, which is to say, I had been bitten by the Rangers bug.

My first memory of exposure to the Rangers is visiting a relative near Woodstock, NY who got Ranger games on Channel 9. The Rangers were playing the St. Louis Blues and were underdogs in their playoff series. Mike Liut was a hot rookie goaltender, but behind Barry Beck, the Rangers won. I remember my father emulating the announcer imploring Beck to, "shoot the puck Barry, shoot the puck!"

Soon, we had another reason to cheer for the Rangers. Our old high school hero Bob Brooke had completed his tour of the 1984 Olympics and had joined the Rangers in time for the playoffs. Dad and I watched the first four games intently as the heavily favored Isles had split the first four games with the Rangers, and headed back to Uniondale for the decisive Game 5. The Rangers played valiantly, and Don Maloney even tied the game at 2 with just 40 seconds to play. But Brooke missed a golden opportunity in overtime (fwd to 7:00 of this video), and Ken Morrow slid one through Glen Hanlon. By this point, Dad was no longer affected by these travesties, always telling me, "they'll break your heart."

Some of you will often hear me refer to the Ted Sator Rangers of 1986 as my all-time favorite Rangers team. And they are. Not because they were the most talented, but because they brought my father and I together as we watched the team upset both Philadelphia and Washington before losing to Montreal. They did break my heart, but I remember us watching every game on TV and thinking that Dad was really enjoying the accomplishments of Mike Ridley, Kelly Miller and Pierre Larouche. That made me happy, and, consequently, a fan for life.

Years later, the Rangers traded for Bernie Nicholls, Carey Wilson, Bobby Carpenter, Marcel Dionne and others who promised to not break our heart. But it was more of the same. Until 1992, when along came Mark Messier. The Rangers cruised to the Presidents Trophy and it looked like it would be the year. But the Curse of the Garden helped a long Ron Francis shot through Mike Richter and they had broken our hearts again.

By this time, I had already fashioned my own modest hockey career. Constantly shifting between forward and defense, I never really developed an identity as a player. As a defenseman, I told myself that my 5'8" frame was too small to play the physical game. I had equally convinced myself that I wasn't fast enough to be a sniper. But on those long car rides home, some of the fondest times of my life, Dad had a different perspective. The routine went like this: I would ask him how I played, and he would always give me the honest answer. He never criticized the errors of commission, but when he felt that I didn't leave my effort on the ice, he said so. And that might seem cruel, but when I did work hard enough to draw his praise, it meant the world to me. And later in life, I can appreciate that he didn't care how I played as long as I worked as hard as I could.

The Rangers malaise of the 80s mirrored my own. Undecided between the European style of Herb Brooks and the disciplined one of Sator, New York never had an identity--or a Stanley Cup. Then came 1994. The Rangers, through some miracle, finally broke through and delivered on a 54-year promise. Of course, not without first nearly breaking our hearts against New Jersey and Vancouver, but by then we expected nothing less. After the last game against Vancouver, we were watching the TV and saw the now-famous sign that said, "Now I Can Die In Peace." I really think that Dad felt a little bit like that.

I'm glad he got to see the Rangers win the Stanley Cup, because as trivial as it sounds, it had been a part of our lives that we shared as friends. Seeing them beat Vancouver in that seventh game was a sort of affirmation of our friendship.

After 1994, Dad and I didn't watch as many games together. Seems like I always had things to do and people to see. And by then he had pretty much stopped attending the games I played in. He said the rinks were too cold and that I should just quit because the games meant nothing. It sometimes makes me wonder if the Rangers had won the Stanley Cup any earlier if it would have changed things between us.

But then I think there is an irony to all of the frustration we experienced as fans, yet benefitted from as friends. Because all along, as the Rangers were teaching us to lose faith, to doubt everything and that "they'll break your heart," Dad and I were really experiencing the joy of two pals, a father and a son getting to know and appreciate one another.
In that sense, the sign was true. He could die in peace.