“On the night of April 12, 1973, as the powerful Montreal Canadiens were finishing off a six-game first-round series victory over the Sabres, the fans let it be known what this team meant to them. It started in the upper balcony, the orange-colored seats where fans were afforded a panoramic view of the ice surface at the expense of a nose bleed. “Thank You, Sabres,” they chanted, as the final minute of that magical season ticked away on the big royal blue scoreboard that hovered over the center-ice faceoff circle. Like lava pouring from a volcano, the chant slid down to the blue seats, and then to the reds, “Thank You, Sabres. Thank You, Sabres,” they sang in unison, the decibel level increasing with each verse until the folks in the upper and lower golds had joined the chorus–and then it couldn’t get any louder. “Thank You, Sabres. Thank You, Sabres. Thank You, Sabres.” Over and over it reverberated throughout the arena, a passionate, appreciative, and heart-warming salute that puddled the eyes of those who were being thanked–Gilbert Perreault, Rick Martin, Rene Robert, Roger Crozier, Jim Schoenfeld, Tim Horton, Craig Ramsay, Don Luce, Gerry Meehan, and the rest of the Sabres. It did not matter that the Sabres were about to be eliminated by the eventual champion Canadiens. All that mattered was that this young, energetic hockey team had given the citizens of Buffalo– people in desperate need of an escape from the harsh realities of a failing economy, horrid weather, and the pitiful Bills–a reason to smile, a reason to put their troubles aside. “I’ll never forget it,” said Robert, emotion gripping his voice as he recalled that night. “I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life. Here we are, getting beat out in the playoffs, and the fans are cheering, ‘Thank You, Sabres.’ This is something that I’ll always remember. This is an experience that someone has to have somewhere down the road. It brings tears to your eyes.””
