Rangers fans at Mustang Harry’s react to their loss to the Florida Panthers

Brothers Niall and Ian Conroy, who came to New York from Tipperary, Ireland, have been Rangers fans for decades, even before they bought Mustang Harry’s, a bar just a few blocks from Madison Square Garden that was the venue for New york. Rangers fans since 1995.

For Conroy, love for the team is matched by adoration for the fans. “It’s their concern,” Naill says of the fans. “Their heart. There is no giving up in them.” Win or lose, Rangers fans refuse to give up. Ian agrees. “It’s passion. Rangers fans are furious.”

Last night, Game 6 of the Eastern Conference Finals, with the Florida Panthers leading the series 3-2, was a good night for the Rangers. It’s been thirty long years since their last Stanley Cup, and the Rangers are deep in the playoffs for the third year in a row. Fans lined the walls, filled the seats and covered every inch of the two-story unit.

Ted Kalamaras is the “CEO and Host” of NYRfans.com and sells autographed photos, pucks and memorabilia at the bar. The Conroy brothers even put up a sign upstairs where he usually sits at his table that says “Ted’s Corner.”

“I love them! I’m going to every home game!” When he couldn’t attend home games, he considered going to games on the road, making 17 road trips this year alone. That’s nothing. During COVID, hosted over 800 FacebookLive and Zoom Rangers events, detailing games, players and history. Ted grew up watching games broadcast in black and white and fell in love with the fast action of hockey. He went to his first game when he was ten years old. To date, he has been a fan for 51 years.

They have been holding signing events with former and current players for ten years, averaging about eight a year. “It’s my life… it’s what I live for. It is my drug of choice. It’s my passion to make fans happy. It’s the best thing in the world.”

Making little paths through people’s walls, servers bore down with trays of loaded nachos and piping hot wings and shots and beers as the puck drops to start the first period. A “Let’s go Rangers” chant breaks out as the bartenders become robotically moving automatic drink pouring machines for the excited crowd. A waiter, wide-eyed and sweating profusely, leans against a wall. “It’s lively, it’s fun,” he says. “Hockey fans are the best fans, I’ll tell you that. Compared to fans of baseball, football, basketball – only the best.”

Chedrick and Kim recently moved to New York from Los Angeles. They are already chasing the Lakers and Dodgers, but wanted to find a team on the east coast. “I wanted a sport to root for,” Chedrick exclaims. Then they found the Rangers. “It’s history,” he says. “One of those classical teams like the Yankees and the Knicks! I wanted one new york team!” Rangers, the fan base and a game at The Garden are said to have sealed the deal.

As the game progresses, the excitement of the playoffs is overtaken by a constant, room-filling tension. Fans know that tonight is the night they either survive or start talking about the next season. When the Panthers look close to scoring, fans groan and scream, then cheer when their defense holds. When Rangers look close to scoring but don’t, the cadence is reversed. Everyone is desperate for a goal, but it’s just not going to happen. It’s near miss after near miss for Rangers. Then the Panthers score with 48.5 seconds left in the first period to groans and cries of “No! Not!”

Russ has been the security guard at Mustang Harry’s for three years. He likes the Knicks, Yankees and Rangers. “I’m for the teams in New York. If they’re playing in New York, I’m for them,” he laughs. Notable absent are the Mets and Nets. He’s followed the Rangers religiously since he was a kid. “I was brought up on Rangers, with my family, with my friends.”

The second period begins, and Rangers’ frustration at being scoreless rises. Mark from Manhattan, a hardcore fan since the mid-80s, isn’t too concerned. “They fell with nothing. They can come back. It’s an even game despite the score.” Christine of Belmar, New Jersey, isn’t worried either. “I have hope,” she says. “It is The best experience of being a Ranger fan!”

Cassandra from Rhode Island is less sanguine. “Yes, I am worried! He’s not doing too well! They rely too much on Igor (Shesterkin, goalkeeper)!” She loves the spirit of the fan base and feels more at home in the community than her hometown Boston Bruins.

Nick from Howard Beach is covered in hundreds of Rangers pins, flashing lights and scroll bars with pre-programmed text pinned to his vest. From 1972, he rooted for the Rangers. “It’s in my blood. I love the game, I love the team.” Nick has been wearing and building this outfit for over 11 years. He estimates he carries about $2,000 worth of needles, lights, batteries, etc. He grins from ear to ear, points up confidently and returns to his table for the final minutes of the second period.

Alexis grew up going to Rangers games. Her grandfather was the HVAC man at Madison Square Garden. As a girl, she skated and played hockey. Her earliest memory is of the Rangers winning the Stanley Cup in 1994. “We bleed blue,” she proclaims. “Rangers are so much more than a sport I love… it’s a hallmark of family and tradition. It represents home, belonging and meaning.” And she has faith in her team. “I really feel like we’re going to win! I believe! I bleed blue!”

With six minutes left in the third period, Florida scores again. A general sense of deviance and despair sets in. Heads go to hands; hands go over mouths and insults fly freely. And then, with two minutes to go, Rangers score. A two-story emotional explosion shakes the bar, and hope returns. Tables are knocked and a guttural chant of “Come on Rangers” begins again. A minute and a half left. The tension and anxiety return as the possibility of tying it at 2-2 is right there, and then it’s over. The time is running out. The Rangers are not going to win the Stanley Cup this year.

A relative silence falls over the bars. Some fans shuffle outside; others remain in utter hopelessness and, by proxy, grief, with spirits bottoming out and the dream over. Some hug, some order another round, and some walk away with palpable sadness with their heads down. Nick has tears in his eyes. “I feel very empty,” he says. “Like my guts were ripped out.”

And yet there is always next year. “Florida is a good team. We’ll talk next season,” says Ted.

“It’s a horrible way to end the season, but Florida is a great team,” says Ian.

Russ, the guard, stands by the front door, hunched over. “I’m very sick,” he says. “It just hurts. I’m sitting in the corner licking my wounds.” He smiles as much as he can, then speaks for everyone at the bar. “They’re still my team, win or lose.”