Emile Francis coaching NYR

Legendary hockey reporter Stan Fischler writes a weekly scrapbook for NHL.com. Fischler, also known as "The Hockey Maven," shares his humor and insight for readers each Wednesday.

This edition of "Strange but True" recalls the night when several New York Rangers climbed the protective glass to defend their coach and general manager, Emile "The Cat" Francis, who was having a dispute with a goal judge -- and three fans.

New York Rangers coach and general manager Emile "The Cat" Francis was not looking for trouble, he was looking for a win. 

It was Sunday night, Nov. 21, 1965, at old Madison Square Garden with the Rangers holding a 2-1 third-period lead against the Detroit Red Wings.

Arthur Reichert, a short, wiry goal judge, had his eyes riveted on the action when Detroit mounted an attack. Reichert intently leaned forward in his chair. So did author-historian Alan Greenberg, who later wrote an article about the episode for the Rangers program-magazine.

"Detroit's Floyd Smith poked at the puck, which went beyond the reach of Rangers goalie Ed Giacomin and then bounced back to him." Greenberg remembered. "After a brief moment of hesitation, Reichert put on the red goal light."

Francis, who was sitting in the stands near Reichert, reacted to the illuminated red light when he leaped out of his seat and rushed toward the end arena, where the goal judge did his business. 

"When I saw the '2' go up on the scoreboard, I took off for Reichert," Francis recalled in George Grimm's book, "We Did Everything But Win."

In those bygone Original Six days, goal judges sat unprotected behind the net surrounded by the end arena crowd. When the hot and bothered Cat reached Reichert, he shouted, "That puck never crossed the red line!"

The unflappable Reichert, who had a much better view than Francis, snapped back. "I've got two witnesses here to prove I'm right." 

One of the witnesses then yelled, "Bug off, Francis, that puck was in." 

Francis knocked him down with one punch, but two other pro-Reichert fans jumped in, outnumbering the miniscule coach/GM.

"Within seconds," Greenberg wrote, "a swarm of Blueshirted Rangers -- led by Vic Hadfield and Arnie Brown -- skated across the ice and scaled the boards and high glass to protect their leader, who was being held by the throat. Meanwhile, players Mike McMahon and Earl Ingarfield were in the next company of reinforcements. At the end, a total of 10 Rangers had scaled the tall glass barrier."

What the players saw after Garden security finally separated the combatants wasn't pretty. Francis had a black eye and was cut over the left eye and left cheekbone, requiring stitches. Plus, his brand-new suit was torn in half.

Reichert escaped damage by deftly moving to an adjacent aisle until security restored decorum. The game ended in a 3-3 tie, but the fallout wasn't over. A day later, Rangers president Bill Jennings declared that Reichert would be banned from working any more Garden games.

"(NHL president) Clarence Campbell will have to come down from Montreal to get him in," Jennings said. 

But time was a healer. Campbell steadfastly supported Reichert and insisted that he'd continue working Rangers games, leaving Jennings and Francis no choice but to comply.

In an interview with Grimm decades after the brouhaha, Francis sounded penitent over the whole affair. 

"Arthur Reichert was a really competent guy," the Cat insisted, "but I was fighting for the life of my hockey club."

Then, reflecting on the bizarre scene, Francis added, "It was a case of organized confusion!" 

Perhaps it was, but in the end, justice triumphed because there was no confusion about Reichert's judgement. The goal-watcher, who by that time had been working the red button for 33 years, steadfastly maintained that it was, in fact, a goal and had proof positive that he made the right call.

"When game films -- before instant replay -- were developed," wrote Greenberg, "Reichert was proven correct in his judgement!" 

Francis, who invented the modern goalie "trapper" glove, could look backward and find solace in the firestorm he ignited. 

"Because of my incident," he said, "they started putting the goal judge in a protective booth so that nobody could get to them. "

Not even 10 glass-vaulting Rangers.