The Seats in the Greens

A Story at Maple Leaf Gardens

Uncle Bob's hands were big, the kind that made you think they could crush a football if he wanted to. He played for Cornell in the days when you could see the breath of the linemen in the cold. The ring on his finger told you that much. He never took it off. It sat heavy and golden, glinting under the lights like it knew the weight of the games he playe…