A night to remember: Rangers honoring legend Vic Hadfield

The night belongs to Vic Hadfield, the guy who led the charge over the glass at the old Garden in 1965 when his general manager, Emile Francis, was at risk scuffling with a fan after the Cat had challenged a goal judge named Arthur Reichert for turning on the red light.

“I had to go,” Hadfield said just the other day. “The Cat was in trouble. He was our leader. He’d run through a wall for us. I couldn’t let anything happen to him.”

The night belongs to this No. 11, the guy who tossed Bernie Parent’s mask into the crowd during a wild, late third-period bench-clearing brawl in Game 2 of the 1971 first-round series against the Maple Leafs, and from whence it never came back.

“Me? You’re sure that was me? That wasn’t me,” Victor said over the phone Thursday. “All right, so maybe it was me. Did I do that? But maybe it was an accident. Can I say it was an accident? All I know is, when it went into the stands, there was no way a Ranger fan was giving it back.

“Going into the stands for Emile, the mask thing with Bernie, when the moment happens, you react. You do what you have to do.”

Hadfield did it all through 13 years and 841 games as a Blueshirt. He did it with his fists that he threw down in a series of memorable fights in the penalty box with Henri Richard and he did it with gnarled hands that were good enough for him to become the first 50-goal-scorer in franchise history in 1971-72. He did it with leadership abilities he used as captain in the run to the 1972 final. He did it with wit, humor and personality.

“Oh, he was a leader, all right,” Emile said by phone on Wednesday. “He was the right guy to take over as captain [after Bob Nevin was traded following the 1971 playoffs]. I didn’t even think of anyone else. He was the type of individual that his teammates would follow. He garnered respect right away in this league, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his teammates.”

The night belongs to Hadfield, who will be celebrated Sunday in pregame festivities during which his banner will be raised to the Garden’s pinwheel ceiling to wave beside his GAG-line mates Rod Gilbert and Jean Ratelle, beside his goaltender Eddie Giacomin, beside Hall of Fame mates Andy Bathgate and Harry Howell at the start of his Broadway tenure in 1961-62, beside Mark Messier, Brian Leetch, Mike Richter and Adam Graves, and someday in the not-too-distant future, perhaps beside his team’s Hall of Fame defenseman Brad Park.

“I don’t think there’s any doubt that Brad belongs there,” Hadfield said. “What he meant to us … he was our Bobby Orr. It’s time.”

It may be time for Park, it is time not a moment too soon for Hadfield, it is time once again to recognize, celebrate and romanticize the era in which Emile’s Rangers became the best team in NHL history never to win the Stanley Cup. The night belongs to Hadfield, but it also belongs to the fans from the old Garden, the fans who’d stand on the railings in the old side balcony, the fans from the blue seats in this place that was the noisiest party extant through the 1970s.

People talk about the Garden in the 1979 Battle of New York against the Islanders being as loud as the building has ever been, but the loudest I remember was Game 4 of the 1972 semifinal sweep of Chicago when Gene Carr scored late in the second period to give the Rangers a 5-2 lead and everyone knew the team was going to the finals and would end the Cup drought at 32 years.

“I came to New York and I fell in love with it,” Hadfield said. “The life here, the people here, the fans here. It couldn’t have been better, except for that Stanley Cup. We wanted to win it for ourselves and the organization, of course, but we wanted to win it just as badly for our fans. We really did.

“Looking back at it now, the thing we could have done differently was give some of our guys days off from practice. We never did that. Brad had bad knees. Eddie played a lot. Jean and Rod didn’t need to skate every day. I don’t know. Can’t do anything about it now, can we?”

Hadfield began his career with the Chicago organization. He was selected by the Rangers and GM Muzz Patrick in the 1961 intra-league draft in which teams were allowed to protect 20 players within the organization. The winger became available in the third round after the Blackhawks picked up a fellow named Aut Erickson from the Bruins and dropped Hadfield from their list.

“I wasn’t in New York then, but I sure knew who he was,” Francis said. “He was tough. He would take anyone on. I wish I could take credit for that pick, but it wasn’t me.”

Hadfield made his Rangers and NHL debut on Oct. 14, 1961, in a 3-1 defeat in Montreal. Jean-Guy Gendron wore No. 7. Wearing No. 14 — yup — was a gentleman named Ratelle. The Rangers made the playoffs in 1962. Didn’t again until 1967.

“The veterans were so important to me,” said Hadfield, who ticked off the names of Bathgate, Howell, Ken Schinkel and Earl Ingarfield as examples. “Being a rookie, I got to carry Earl’s luggage all over the place; to the bus, off the bus, to the hotel, from the hotel, to the plane, off the plane. So that was good experience.”

Emile built the Rangers into a powerhouse. He first formed the GAG Line in December of 1965-66 when he moved Hadfield onto the left with Ratelle and Gilbert following a particular night in Toronto when his two finesse forwards were brutalized by Eddie Shack. There was the 1970 Final Day Nine Goals Miracle, the devastating loss to Chicago in Game 7 of 1971, the heartbreaking loss to the Bruins in 1972, the bitter Game 7 defeat in the 1974 semis in Philadelphia, and no, you are not going to read the names D__e R____e and D__e S_____z here.

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Then, Hadfield was gone, bum-rushed out of town within weeks, traded to Pittsburgh for Nick Beverley, sent away, No. 11 believes to this day, under orders from team president Bill Jennings for having used his leverage to negotiate with Cleveland of the WHA and score a multi-year deal in New York.

“When we lost to the Flyers, we were told they weren’t going to make any changes,” Hadfield said. “All of a sudden, they made changes and I was out. That hurt. I know the game, I know the business, but that hurt.”

That was then. This is now. This is the time to celebrate one of the greatest Rangers of them all.

This is Hadfield’s Night.