Behind Enemy Lines

I'm keeping my Kings gear under wraps when I am not in the Lounge.

I have no need to go walking around Manhattan, looking for someone to want to take a shot at a rather large target like my nose, just because I am wearing a new Kings hat, or my more familiar ratty Kings cap.

Last Wednesday night, as I was returning from a play, I was standing in the Times Square station waiting on the platform for the Shuttle to Grand Central Terminal. A family, all dressed in Canadiens sweaters, stood nearby. The Rangers had just won the Eastern Conference finals, and many fans had apparently remained down near the Garden. But a few had made their way uptown and were finally reaching the Shuttle platform. Soon, there were a few obscenities directed toward the family, who grew uncomfortable underground.

Finally, a minute or more later, an uptown 1 train made the platform in Times Square. "Let's Go Rangers" filled the station, as did a louder, more creative selection of obscenities. The family huddle grew tighter, and then the father loudly said, "Let's go grab a cab."

Wise move. The rest of us on the platform did our best to ignore or suffer this crowd. (Suffer is my word, unless you happen to like the smell of beer and piss along with loud belching, in which case this group was for you.)

Duly noted. Only games in the Lounge for me.