Three Periods of the Condor: Green Monster, Ice Crew and Section 27

Every NHL fan knows that watching a game in person changes everything. You follow hockey differently after that. In a new occasional series, which we are calling "Three Periods of the Condor" with a nod to actor Robert Redford, NHL.com Editor-in-Chief Bob Condor will be watching games from various locations at NHL arenas. Feel free to email ideas about where "Three Periods of the Condor" goes next to bcondor@nhl.com.

Let's start with the desperation of Section 27 in the Fenway Park grandstand. Bruins fans were standing for the last dozen minutes of Friday’s 2010 Bridgestone NHL Winter Classic, craning necks, standing shoulder to shoulder, body-Englishing on every Boston shot on goal like Carlton Fisk goading his 12th-inning home run to stay fair in Game 6 of the 1975 World Series.

"Just one!" yelled the fan in Row 4. He was wearing a floppy knit Bruins Winter Classic stocking cap with ear flaps.

"Seven minutes left and everybody is standing, look at this," said another fan up and over a bit in Row 5.

"Come on, play like you are earning your money!" screamed a clearly loyal jersey-clad fan in Row 5. She almost immediately apologized to everyone nearby for "losing her head."

With 2:18 left -- and 26 seconds remaining on a power play -- Mark Recchi helped every one lose their heads by tying the game by redirecting a pass from defenseman Derek Morris into the net. Honestly, I thought the guy next to me with the Winter Classic ear flaps was about to kiss me on the head.

There was something about the way the light hit the Fenway rink in those final minutes of the third period. Bob Costas said it on NBC a bit later in the network’s post-game coverage: It seemed like a bunch of kids trying to get up and down the ice a few more times before needing to go home for dinner.

When Marco Sturm bagged the Classic winner in overtime, there were high fives, hugs and fist bumps all around Section 27. Nothing brings fans together like a thrilling overtime victory on a near-perfect day for hockey at one of America’s cherished ballparks.

Of course, a B-2 stealth bomber can do the same. When the flyover occurred just before puck drop and the first period, no less than 20 grown men in the Green Monster seats atop the 37-foot left field wall ran from their primo seats to clasp chain-link and trying spot the B-2 first. Frankly, the plane was overhead and headed for a buzz-cut of the press box in a blink. Those 20 grown men spent the next few minutes comparing cell phone photos for a good five minutes afterward, plus basically saying "Did you see that!" to each other.

More kid stuff.

The view from the Green Monster was one of the best vantage points for a hockey game -- high enough to watch the play develop but still able to see the players' faces. And, come on, you are on top of the Green Monster.

Just over than a minute into the second period, two members of the NHL Ice Crew sprung up from their benches on the corner of the rink nearest the Monster to do some repairs to the faceoff dot left of Bruins goalie and Olympian Tim Thomas. Both Thomas and a linesman were naturally curious about the repair work, gliding closer to the Ice Crew members as their worked with ice chunks and a fire extinguisher that seals up the makeover job. They were back in their own version of a bullpen less than two minutes later.

Sitting in the corner with the ice crew afforded larger-than-life views of Thomas making some saves with his chest and, one time, his mask (punctuated by a sound somewhere between a thwack and a thud). You can also see the puck skitter on the Fenway rink’s lively boards and figure out how hard it is really is for a NHL goaltender only stop to stop that unruly puck but to control it and send it back the other way.

A distinct feeling you get from sitting on the corner at ice level: The rink can’t hold these guys. Pretty much every shift ends with loud crashes, bounce-offs, clattering sticks and players simply falling squarely and hard on their butts.

Another conclusion from the corner, ice-side: Zdeno Chara sure fills up the glass.
Watching the NHL Ice Crew from a dozen feet away as they each crouched on one knee and tucked snow shovels in the crooks of their elbows was impressive. Their runs out to the ice surface are practically choreography with shovel, trash cans and fire extinguishers. Think the coal miners' "Solidarity" number in "Billy Elliot." The finishing touch was using those fire extinguishers with the vapor spraying.

Dan Craig, the NHL's ice guru, was looking calm leaning on a temporary fence near the end of the second period. He was asked if the Ice Crew ever practices what appears to be razor-shape and hyper-fast work.

"No, never," said Craig, breaking into a smile. "What I enjoy about our team is each one of them knows what they are here for and that time is of the essence."

Same feeling everyone had in Section 27 during the third period.