In the 50’s there was an ice hockey team here in Philadelphia called the Ramblers. They played in The Eastern Hockey League, notorious but unfamiliar to us at the time for its aggressive style of play (not to be confused with violent). The Ramblers played their home games at The Arena in West Philly. Later, The Arena gained TV fame as the home of Dick Clark’s ‘Bandstand’, but that’s another story…
The Arena was situated in a rather odd spot, kind of next to and underneath the elevated part of the Market Street subway. The Arena itself was an odd shaped building, and the elevated/subway line went by at a strange angle. Inside, there was an ice hockey rink separated from the seating area by only a chain link fence which circled the ice along the top of the side and end boards.
Also, then, there was a group at our church called The Boys’ Brigade, kind of like Boy Scouts. Many of our fathers were involved and Friday nights were always an event. Bible study, Brigade stuff, and then GAMES! Thank God they recognized the need for GAMES! Robbie and I were among the Brigaders and became best buds (our fathers had some rather wild adventures together as youthful guys, unknown to the church and only confessed years later). Because of our athletic skill, we were always placed on opposite teams. Sometimes we would pout and quit, but not for long. After all, it was GAMETIME!!…
For whatever reason, still not understood to this day, our fathers decided to take us to a Ramblers hockey game, a father and son outing, wholesome, bonding to the max, a great plan. Across, onthe other side of the ice, we noticed compartments for the teams, the PA announcer, and something called the penalty box. We sat in the fourth row at mid-ice, very cool, eh…
The Ramblers played the Johnstown Jets that night. There was a burly and rather ugly guy on the Jets with a dark heavy beard and no space between his eyebrows, a former Long Island Duck and well known in the league (as I learned years later) for his pugnacious style of play, quite comfortable in the role of instigator and/or enforcer. I think he started it.
By the middle of the first period (10 minutes into the game), both benches were empty, all the players slugging it out on the ice. Somehow one of the wooden players’ benches got onto the ice and was being knocked around in circles as the melee continued. Gloves and hockey sticks littered the ice. The players had paired off, grappling and gliding like dance partners, occasionally on target with furious punctuating haymakers between waltzes…
We were quick to join the others down front pressing against the chain link fence, making white knuckles and rattling the fence, loud, wide eyed and crazy. As fatigue was taking its toll on the players, a group of Philly cops emerged from the tunnel at the far end of the rink, billy clubs in hand, suddenly aware that they were not wearing skates and realizing the perils of street shoes on ice. What were they thinking? It was such great theater!
Meanwhile, amid the mayhem, our fathers were making funny sounds, amazingly audible in spite of the screaming crowd. Later we described these sounds as righteous harrumphing…
There was pizza afterward and our fathers are gone now. There was never a word or a discussion about what happened that night. We were afraid to approach the topic then and our fathers remained silent to their graves, but I hope they passed with a smile aboat it…Eh)))
…
SPAZZ
THE RAMBLERS
JIM GREENGRASS
THE INDIANS
THE PREACHER’S KID
THE KNIGHTS
PUBERTY
THE BULLDOGS