My father always had quite a few opinions about Old Garden, specifically the spot at 50th Avenue and 8th Avenue. By the fourth quarter, many fans in the Upper Deck were just relieved that the cloud of cigarette smoke was a distraction from the lackluster basketball they were witnessing.
One Thursday, he came home excited, letting me know he had scored tickets for the next night’s game between the Celtics and Knicks—Game 6 of the Eastern Conference semi-finals. The Celtics were ahead in the series, 3-2. This was probably going to be the last home game for the young Knicks team, who, well, didn’t fully grasp the significance of 1970 or ’73.
When we arrived at the game, we found ourselves in what felt like the Ultimate Uecker seats—way up high, our backs pressed against the wall, almost touching the ceiling of the arena. It was May 11, 1984, and I was attempting to soak in what Madison Square Garden really represented.
“Feels like we’re at the top of the world, huh?” he said.
