You had to know there was going to be a fight.
Surprisingly, Keenan reinserted Belfour less than two minutes later. The fans, certain their shouting had influenced the decision, felt they could will the team to victory. The Blackhawks staged a dramatic comeback after Philadelphia had taken a 4-1 lead early in the second period. They pulled to within one goal late in the third period and clearly had the Flyers on the run. The Flyers, scared now, began to dish out elbows in the corners. Keenan responded by sending out little-used Stu Grimson to the delight of a crowd hoping to see Philadelphia lose its lead and a few teeth in the bargain.
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The streets leading away from the Stadium were jammed. My nephew and I sneaked onto Wood Street heading north. He’d got the tickets for the game through his wife’s law firm. Since the ducats were free and we don’t get a chance to take in a game all that often, we agreed it was a good, entertaining evening. The people in the car ahead of us didn’t see things in the same light.
The driver rolled his window halfway down and called for the cop. The cop refused to come. “Get goin’!” he shouted.
The cop blew a gasket. “Fuck you!” he exploded. The Buick began to squeal away. The cop kicked at it, missed, and almost fell backward. He turned to us, as we sat in our car mindful that the ten-letter word is notorious as the worst imprecation in a cop’s vocabulary, trying to hide our smirks. “Get goin’!” he growled.
“They wouldn’t expect it in a million years,” I said.
