You had to be there to know that it actually happened – two tragedies at one Rangers training camp in Kitchener, Ontario. The pair of overlooked stories are here for you to read right now.

The Maven was there – September 13, 1968 – and saw it all. Fred Shero, then the club's Buffalo Bisons AHL minor league coach, had launched the morning workout.

Both Rangers and minor leaguers began a leisurely skate in a wide circle at center ice. One of them was Wayne Larkin, 29, a solid minor league forward who figured this would be his last chance to crack the Rangers lineup; longshot as it was.

Another longshot was a goalie out of Ohio University who, logically speaking, had no business being there. After all, when would a kid from Brooklyn ever make it as a Ranger goalie? Never, that's when!

But this handsome lad from the Manhattan Beach roller hockey ranks was there nonetheless. His name was Al Albert, kid brother of Marv Albert who would emerge as one of the greatest sportscasters in the world. Tagging along was the youngest Albert, Steve, who someday also would make very positive broadcast as well as literary history.

Then, it happened.

One of the skaters collapsed to the ice for no apparent reason. "Who's the joker?" someone wondered, figuring there was a prankster in the skating circle.

But the hulk, Wayne Larkin, didn't move. Coach Bernie Geoffrion, watching from the stands, sensed big trouble and dashed to the ice on a beeline to the fallen forward.

We watched in collective anguish as Geoffrion repeatedly pounded Larkin's chest, desperate to keep him alive. Meanwhile the S.O.S. had gone out and soon an ambulance arrived and Larkin was moved to a hospital. 

Steve Albert, who had been sitting in the stands with brother Marv and coach Geoffrion, never forgot the scene. Now – a good 57 years later – he recalled the incident in his book, "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Broadcast Booth."

The Larkin episode is the only un-funny thing in 278 pages of one of the best sports books I ever read. 

One of the funniest – as in strange – was the sight of brother Al on the same ice as Hall of Fame Ranger goalie Ed Giacomin.

The Founding Of The Rangers Fan Club, 1950In the spring of 1950, the fourth place Rangers startled the hockey world by reaching the seventh game of the Stanley Cup Final before losing to Detroit in double-overtime.

"It was quite a rush to see Al wearing a Rangers uniform, skating around with all those players (Rod Gilbert, Jean Ratelle, plus)," wrote author Steve. "My brother was a local kid from Brooklyn, which was unheard of; him being there with the NHL guys."

It was a rush for The Maven as well and, quite frankly, I feared for Al's life once Vic Hadfield unloaded one of his 100 mph shots. I tried imagining whether Middle Brother Al was as nervous for his life as I was.

What I saw was un-real. It was as if Al Albert was doing a 100 percent impersonation of an NHL goalie. Stoic as the Statue of Liberty, he turned away shot after shot and, better still, he made it look as if he was a Jewish Giacomin.

Geoffrion was stunned to the very core. When the workout ended, he pumped Al's hand and blurted "You, you, you, you good!"

(In his book, humorist Steve quipped: "To this day, Al has never washed that hand!")

But it wasn't that Al Albert impressed that one day. He did it again – and again. Meanwhile, The Maven is musing what a fantastic story this is gonna be. I dreamed up a potential headline: BROOKLYN KID BEATS OUT GIACOMIN FOR RANGERS JOB.

Then came the crusher. While imagining the possibility of more wonderful Al Albert stories,  I searched for my new hero and when I found him, I was crushed by what I saw and  heard.

There was Al, closing his suitcase, getting ready to leave. "What's this about?"  I wondered.

Then, he spilled the beans. The Vietnam War was on and he had been drafted by Uncle Sam. "Sorry, but I gotta report to Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri," he said

Or, as Stevie put it in his book: "The dream was over. He got to wear that Rangers uniform for only a few days."

EPILOGUE: Following his Army stint, Al was invited by Rangers GM Emile Francis to play for the Rangers farm team in Toledo. But something had come over Al during his GI experience.

"Al realized that an NHL career would be more likely in the broadcast booth," Steve concluded in his book.

And so it was and I can vouch for that. For one season Al was play-by-play guy for the 

New Jersey Devils and guess who was his sidekick? Me, The Maven.

Need I tell you – on a stack of pucks if necessary – that I believed Al Albert was as good a hockey play-by-play guy as Marv of whom there was  never anyone better as a Rangers voice.

Here's yet another "Can You Believe?" During the 1979-80 season I worked alongside Steve Albert who expertly handled 

Islanders play-by-play – in the first year of the Dynasty.  A WORD OF GRATITUDE: Thank you Alida and Max Albert. It was all in the kids' genes!