This column originally ran in The Standard-Times on Dec. 25, 2004.

By Nick Tavares

Two months before my 12th birthday, my family and I had tickets to see the Bruins take on the New Jersey Devils at Boston Garden.

It wasn't easy trudging through the 14 inches of snow that dropped on New England the night before, but all the weather woes were forgotten before the second period even started.

Seated in the second-to-last row of lower bowl at the Garden's west end, directly under the rickety balcony, I was waving my black and gold pennant with a fervor even during warm-ups.

The Devils jumped out to a quick 1-0 lead on then-goalie Jon Casey, with groans rippling through the building.

Then the Cam Neely show began.

In a span of just 4:02, Neely scored on Devils goalie Martin Brodeur three times.

And the Gah-den went ballistic.

I was convinced that the wooden seats above me were going to crash down. The ice was littered with hats and foam pucks. Cam Neely, on one leg, and two bad knees, had sent 14,000 hockey nuts into a frenzy.

And Neely almost had a fourth goal, too! In the second, Neely found the back of the net again, but it wound up being disallowed.

I heard a certain phrase echo through the old building immediately after that I can't reprint here. It's Christmas, after all, and this is a family paper.

I was frightened, absolutely terrified and completely hooked.

That afternoon, Neely became a God in hockey skates.

Neely wound up scoring his 50th goal in just his 44th game later that 1993-94 season. Only Wayne Gretzky has ever scored 50 goals faster.

That February afternoon turned out to be my only trip to the Garden before it fell victim to the FleetCenter's wrecking ball.

But I've never been present to a greater moment in my life as a sports fan.

And, for me, Neely will always and forever be the greatest athlete Boston will ever see.

Nick Tavares is a columnist for The Standard-Times. E-mail him at ntavares@s-t.com.

This story appeared on Page C3 of The Standard-Times on December 25, 2004.