The Southie guys, they seem to sense it, too. The fans were noisy at first, while Southie was still in the hockey game, then they were dawn quiet. But now, now that the game seems pretty much decided, it becomes time to build a little ill will. Out from under this sealley cap on the South Boston side comes this basic street-corner voice, yelled out during a break in the action when everything is relatively quiet.

"HEY, RILEY! Hey Riley you bum! Wait'll after the game, Riley." Riley, Jimmy Riley the Tech left wing who lives in West Roxbury and has been playing high school hockey for at least six years, is skating around, waiting for the face-off. You know he hears that voice. Christ, everybody hears it. But Jimmy just pretends that nothing at all is happening. Maybe he knows that this sort of thing gets yelled at him all the time, or that the guy probably hasn't got the sack to actually sucker him outside after the game.

But it obviously doesn't bother him much, because a couple of minutes later he goes after Coughlin at center ice, hits him low with a shoulder, and lifts him head over heels, sending Coughlin and the puck in two differend directions. The Tech fans, who love to see Riley get into jams on the ice, go crazy. The Pork just shakes his head and laughs, and Coughlin, covered with ice shavings, gets up and skates back into the game.

Damned Hacker

But even though it seemed like a legal check-it was at center ice and Riley wasn't charging or anything-something about the way Coughlin went sprawling on the ice really rips the Southie fans. They think Riley is a damned hacker anyway, just like the Tech guys think that Dick Hart is a hacker, and now they're really bellowing for his head.

All of a sudden, Southie seems to get the momentum. It's as though they figured that the only way they were going to get on the board was to feed the puck to Coughlin and let him take it in himself like Ahern does. A couple of minutes later. Coughlin winds up in his own end of the rink and starts flying. Almost imediately, he's past the Tech forwards, and as he comes in on Ahern and Delisle. he skates to the goalie's left side, away from Freddy. Delisle comes up to pokecheck, and Coughlin blasts one by him, past Conroy, who is screened out, and Southie is only losing 3-1 now.

Well suddenly the Tech fans, who were beginning to think that maybe they had the game bagged, are starting to get a little more interested now. And only moments later, damned if Coughlin doesn't do it again, unassisted, and instead of a 3-0 game, it's 3-2. The Southie cheerleaders are jumping up and down, and screaming like hell, and the Southie guys arehollering, and Kenny Cusack feeds Chucky Carrigan one more time before Tech has even had time to get worried, they're in control again.

So it's 4-2 now, and Martel, who has been giving crap to his players for the last couple of minutes, is breathing a little easier. Ahern has this look on his face, as if to say, "All right, you guys, enough of this bullshit," and once again he's skating by Southie guys as if he's just screwing around. Late in the second period, Cusack, who is playing one hell of a hockey game, bombs over the Southie blue line, runs into heavy traffic, and flips a pass over to Riley, who is all alone at the left face-off circle. Riley fires it past the Southie goalie, and it's a rout again.

When the period ends, the Southie fans know that it's just about all over. Coughlin is obviously going to have to get in gear, and hell, you can't expect a guy to bring you from that far behind twice in the same game.

It's pretty much decided that there'll be a jam now. Southie won't be undefeated any more, and there'll be a lot of crap handed out on the corners to night, and you know it won't be Tech guys that are absorbing it.

And even when Murray, a Southie spare, sets up Natale, another spare, to make it 5-3 in the third period, there's no way Southie is making another comeback. Tech is taking it pretty easy, passing the puck around, putting just enough pressure on Walsh to keep Southie honest. But at 11:59 of the third period, with one second left in the game, Cusack, just messing around in the Southie end, manages to steal the puck away from the defensemen, and zips it past Walsh just before the buzzer to make it 6-3.

It's a perfectly legitimate goal, you understand, even though it doesn't mean one hell of a lot, but the Southie fans, well, they think that that kind of stuff is real bush. But there doesn't seem to be any sort of mass shift to the Tech side to avenge Southie honor. Most of the guys seem to be leaving without too much delay.

BUT YOU know that it won't be a Tech-Southie game until someone jams, and it's only a matter of time until some Southie dude, drunk out of his mind or all beaned up, comes over to sucker someone from Tech. The Tech guys, led by The Pork, are all singing the Tech song, and it sounds really loud and they're just asking for a brawl. Well, eventually some Southie guy does come over. He's been drinking, and he left his coat with his buddies or someone while he strolled over to take care of a little unfinished business.

Here he comes, stomping past a bunch of cops standing next to the hot dog stand, turning right past the french fry counter, and walking up in back of the Tech stands. He spots some guy, and doesn't like his looks, and yells "Tech eats it!", and belts him upside the head. As anyone who is around the Arena a lot can tell you, his is not the best way to start a jam.

For one thing, there are always cops around at the Arena, and they spray Mace first and ask questions later. For another, you don't just walk over to the enemy side, all alone, and yell "Tech eats it," unless you have a shiv or something handy.

But Christ, this guy's from Southie. So it's not surprising when suddenly eight guys clobber him at once, and the Southie dude is yelling, and the cops pull out the old Mace and go to town.