Like many Sabres fans who have blown out 50 candles on a birthday cake, the origin of my relationship to the team traces its way back to listening to Rick Jeanneret on a transistor radio. The official rule in our house during hockey season was lights out and radio off after the first period. The unofficial rule in my 8 year old universe was lights out, pulling my radio under the covers, and listening to the rest of the game at the lowest possible volume to evade my mom’s watchful eyes and ears.
The voice that pushed its way out of that tiny transistor and into my ears was 60% coolest uncle in the world and 40% hysterical teenager at a Beatles concert.