I remember this day like it happened yesterday. It was a sweltering 97˚ in the city that day & everyone was just tense as hell. The game was magical for 2 periods & absolutely terrifying in the 3rd. Once it ended, it was an absolute whirlwind of hugs & high fives. When the crowd erupted into a "1940" chant, you could really feel the elation of the moment.
I was able to attend the post game parties in the Garden events spaces, the Play by Play was open to certain fans & the Club restaurant that was for the team only. I left the Garden at about 1am & stayed out in the city partying with people I met at the game...when I got off the LIRR in Queens at 7AM, people waiting on the other side of the track going to work looked at me very strangely. At the time I still lived at home with my mother who had to unlock to door to let me in the house...she looked at me & smiled, but never gave me shit for staying out all night without calling.
I had to be back in the city at 930 for work on the 15th & I had a ton of friends calling me. They knew I was at the game, but couldn't understand why I didn't sound more fired up about the victory. Only when I explained to the I was working on about 45 minutes of sleep did they start laughing their asses off at my drunk ass.
I have a love hate/relationship with this day. I loved every minute of it, but I hate that we still have to relive it 30 years later because this organization is so inept.