“Can Kasparaitis return and become president of your country?”
“Well . . . ” says the Lithuanian reporter. We both look at Kasparaitis, gamely answering questions in Russian, his black eye from the broken nose in Buffalo almost, but not entirely, gone. “He plays for the Russian national team. So I don’t think so.”
After listening to the dulcet, Canadian-inflected press conference of Coach Renney, I wander back into the main arena. The lights are already off, the ice is empty, the whole place is littered with beer and popcorn, everyone has gone home. The empty Garden, transformed on game nights into a total entertainment environment, has afterward no majesty, no magic. I duck my head back into the locker room. It is empty save for Kasparaitis, the Rangers’ multilingual bruiser, speaking into a microphone, at great length, in the ancient tongue of the Lithuanian people.
Email
Print
Eight Year-End Films Vie for Oscar Contention
Sondheim and Lansbury on a Lifetime in Theater
The Black Keys Release Their Hip-hop Debut 
How the BQE Became an Artistic Muse
On Great Jones Street, Shopping Is Art 
Classic Fare, Old-world Charm at Le Caprice
Buy a Brownstone for Less Than $1 Million
Fifty of the City's Tastiest Soups
Reasons to Love New York 2009
New York Politicians Refuse to Quit
A-Rod Has Babe Ruth in His Sights
McCain Yields to the Party's Pressure
