... and the New Yorker I followed was #7, Rod Gilbert.
My mom secured a copy of his autobiography, co-written with @StanFischler, and I devoured it. Yes, Stan, I still have it. Goal: My Life on Ice.
When I went to my first game at MSG, guess who scored the first NHL goal I ever saw? That's right ... Rod Gilbert.
I went to see the Rangers practice at Skateland, a rink in New Hyde Park, during the 1971 playoff series with Chicago. I even got to say hello to Rod as he got into a car with Bob Nevin. The autographs would come later.
That summer, knowing I was about to go off to prep school at #Exeter, I convinced my parents to send me to hockey camp at Skateland where Rod and Brad Park were the headline stars (and they showed up all the time). I also met some guy named Nick Fotiu there.
Meeting Rod was one of those things I will always remember. He autographed my book ... his photo ... a number of pieces of paper ... and he did so with a smile. He was kind to my mother, who was pleased.
On the ice, he noticed that I wore #7 on my skates, just like the pros did, and he started telling "little number seven" to skate hard.
That was something.
Now, I knew from reading Rod's book that his childhood hero was Bernie "Boom Boom" Geoffrion, the Montreal Canadiens great who had finished his career with the Rangers. "The Boomer" assumed mythical dimensions in my imagination.
It was a two-week hockey camp. During the first week we learned that there would be an exhibition game that weekend featuring camp instructors (many were NHL players), local players ... and the Boomer.
Wow ... now I'd get to see the Boomer, too!
So Saturday night came. I went to the rink and squeezed into position right next to one of the players' benches.
Now, I really can't tell you much about the game itself. No matter. But I can tell you what happened between periods.
After the first period, the players stayed on the ice. They were going to go around the rink and sign autographs. I was ready for this moment, autograph book in hand.
And then I saw Boom Boom Geoffrion.
Something of the historian in me clicked (yes, even then ...). Most of the kids didn't know who Boomer was, but I did, thanks to Rod and Stan.
"Boomer! Boomer! Over here!"
Geoffrion looked up. He smiled.
And then he skated over to me, the first kid he was going to meet.
I couldn't believe it. I was so excited. The Boomer seemed to be beaming ... and then he signed my book.
Wow.
I guess you can forgive me for not remembering much about the game, because I had all the memory I needed.
Between Rod, Brad, several of the other instructors (I patterned my goal celebration dance after Pierre Jarry's celebration), and Boomer, I was hooked forever.
The answer is a little more complicated and tells us as much about the values and priorities of the analyst as it does about Lee himself.
First, whether you believe that Lee was a gentleman of sterling character or a slaveholder who betrayed his oath to support an insurrection to protect slavery (or simply "went with his state") is largely irrelevant to this question.
If you prize skill at the operational and battlefield level, the record is mixed.
There were brilliant victories at Second Manassas and Chancellorsville.
There were solid performances at Fredericksburg and Cold Harbor fending off assaults.
Time and again critics of Ulysses S. Grant's generalship claim that, above all else, he was "Grant the Butcher," who prevailed because of his superiority in resources (which was seemingly endless) despite a certain mindlessness and dullness.
Grant's supporters counter this charge largely in a statistical fashion. They compare the percentage of Grant's losses versus the percentage of losses suffered by other generals, including Robert E. Lee.
Sometimes these analyses focus on the 1864 Overland Campaign, which in the minds of some people is the only campaign Grant ever fought ... the claims of butcher rely mostly on May-June 1864.
Today's the 160th anniversary of one of the most misunderstood battles of the American Civil War ... Cold Harbor.
The story of the battle has turned into a myth that in turn has long shaped the image of Ulysses S. Grant's generalship.
Make no mistake about it ... Cold Harbor was a significant setback for Grant and US forces during the Overland Campaign. Several US commanders performed poorly that day, especially in not carrying out George G. Meade's orders to reconnoiter the Confederate position.
However, we now know that tales of 7,000 men falling in less than an hour are false. We also know that the quest for a ceasefire to recover wounded and dead between the lines was botched by two prideful commanders.
It's often asserted the as president Ulysses S. Grant destroyed the Ku Klux Klan.
The reality is not nearly as satisfying or uplifting to those who deplore white supremacist paramilitary terrorism as conducted primarily by veterans of the Confederate war effort.
The KKK became a shorthand descriptor for the many forms of white supremacist terrorism that slowly took organized form in the late 1860s. There were other massacres (Memphis) and attacks (New Orleans) against blacks and their white allies in the Reconstructing South.
By 1867 and 1868, when Black men in large numbers exercised the right to vote for the first time, white supremacist terrorism, often defined as KKK activity, targeted Black voters and Republican officeholders.