MAKE SOME NOISE: As loud as it was during a 4-2 Rangers Game 1 win over the Senators on Thursday at the Garden, there have been noisier times in New York’s sports history. (Getty Images)
MAKE SOME NOISE: As loud as it was during a 4-2 Rangers Game 1 win over the Senators on Thursday at the Garden, there have been noisier times in New York’s sports history. (NHLI via Getty Images)
This isn’t necessarily a testament to how loud a building can get. But if you closed your eyes during John Amirante’s rendition of the national anthem the other night before Game 1 of the Rangers-Senators series, if you couldn’t actually see Amirante, then you wouldn’t have been able to say with certainty that he still was singing by the time he got around to the bombs bursting in air.
It also is not a testament to the absolute belief that a noisy crowd can assure anything, even though the Rangers did ride the wave of a jazzed-up, juiced-up Garden that night, beating the Senators 4-2.
But it is interesting to see how teams react to the home crowd. It isn’t just New York where you see that effect, of course. You go to any stadium or any arena in any city and you’re going to hear hometown athletes marvel at how engaged the home fans are. But for our purposes, in New York, we have known some awfully loud venues.
Everyone’s list is different, because most aren’t as lucky as your humble narrator to spend their days and nights watching games inside our municipal playgrounds. But here’s one man’s list of the five loudest moments I’ve ever experienced live in and around New York:
1. Larry Johnson’s four-point play, Game 3 of Eastern Conference finals vs. Pacers, June 5, 1999, Madison Square Garden: Remember, that was a day in New York that also included Charismatic’s run for the Triple Crown at Belmont Park and an eventful Mets-Yankees day at Yankee Stadium in which half of Bobby Valentine’s coaching staff was axed. But the moment LJ’s shot went down was the single loudest that I have ever heard sports, here or anywhere else. Honestly, my ears still were ringing the next night when I made my way to the Stadium to watch some baseball. The Garden made a sound you could somehow feel in your feet. Stunning.
2. Endy Chavez’s catch, NLCS Game 7 vs. Cardinals, Oct. 19, 2006, Shea Stadium: Proof positive that it really doesn’t matter how loud a crowd can get if you can’t scratch more than a run off Jeff Suppan, or if Aaron Heilman serves up a meatball to Yadier Molina, or if Adam Wainwright … well, you know. Still, the moment Chavez plucked Scott Rolen’s ball from a good three feet beyond the left-field wall, then doubled up Jim Edmonds, I was afraid the auxiliary press box I was sitting in was going to become part of the left-field grandstand.
3. Scott Brosius’ game-tying homer, World Series Game 5 vs. D’backs, Nov. 1, 2001, Yankee Stadium: The funny part was that in the half-second before the sonic boom that nearly leveled the place, it was almost completely silent. Who could believe the Yankees had done this again? And yet the moment everyone realized that they had, indeed, tied a game for the second straight night with two outs in the ninth, it was sheer unfettered bedlam. And unlike the poor Mets, the Yankees almost never lose when they get that kind of energy boost.
4. Jets-Bills playoff game, Dec. 27, 1981: Admittedly, this may be the fondness of a childhood memory trumping reality, but I do know this: As Richard Todd was leading the Jets on that ill-fated last-minute drive, it was the first time I ever felt permanent seats shake under my feet. Also, as with Endy’s catch, sometimes crowd noise isn’t enough.
5. The Matteau Game, Game 7 of Rangers-Devils Eastern Conference finals, May 27, 1994: This is what I remember: Being on the phone with my office during the second OT, the puck beating Martin Brodeur, and my office wondering (since the TV it was watching was a few seconds behind) if a bomb hadn’t gone off at the Garden. That noise went from zero to 60 faster than any I ever have experienced.
And a few I wish I had been at to make the list complete: The Bobby Thomson Game, 1951 … the Giants-Colts playoff game, 1958 … Raiders-Jets AFL title game, 1968 … Knicks-Lakers, Game 7, 1970 … the Reggie Game, 1977 … the Buckner Game, 1986 … Giants-Redskins NFC title game, 1987
Whack Back at Vac
John Siciliano: If Joe Girardi had a lefty on the mound, would he walk Alvaro Espinoza to pitch to Babe Ruth?
Vac: Come on now, that’s not fair. Everyone knows while loose leaf may have been invented in 1913 — just in time for The Babe’s arrival — binders weren’t invented until much, much later.
@CouchPotatoCop: There doesn’t seem to be a lot of demand for tickets to the Nets’ final game in New Jersey on April 23, capping 35 years in the state.
@MikeVacc: Well, given that there hasn’t been much demand for most of those 35 years, it seems an appropriate fare-thee-well, no?
Bob Buscavage: After the PGA witnessed Tiger Woods’ tantrum at the Masters, why didn’t the officials tell him to take a hike into the woods? Isn’t it time to reward his boorish behavior with a fine and a suspension?
Vac: I vowed a long time ago that I would never play another hole with anyone who ever threw, kicked or broke a club during a round. Maybe the other pros on tour should take a similar plege.
Ed Kratt: This is what’s wrong with baseball today: Five hitters into Opening Day, the managers are playing chess instead of the players playing baseball.
Vac: In fairness, if talk radio had been around in 1912, old Muggsy McGraw would’ve driven fans crazier than a Kardashian dinner party with some of his favorite decisions.
Vac’s Whacks.
We already knew Bobby Petrino was a numbskull. But after sending all those texts to his mistress, I suspect he probably has a bad case of numb thumbs, too.
* You can make all the jokes you want about how hard the Mets may be on the eyes. But Josh Lewin joining Howie Rose in the radio booth has made them awfully easy on the ears.
* There’s very little in-between about filmmaker Kevin Smith; you’re usually either an acolyte or a hater. But his newest book — the title of which we can’t print here — is terrific, and features a chapter on his famous fight with Southwest Airlines that may be one of the funniest chapters of any book you’ll ever read.
* Here is one of the quirks you notice during a 3 1/2-hour baseball game: The out-of-town scoreboard at Citi Field now includes the Mets game that everyone in the park presumably is already looking at live.
