RIP Larry Brooks: From Emails to the Press Box, A Relationship I’ll Never Forget

It’s hard to put into words the impact Larry Brooks had—not just on hockey journalism but on me personally. For decades, Larry was the benchmark for Rangers coverage: incisive, fair, sometimes witty, always must-read no slight to any of the other New York beat writers, but I’m pretty sure they were reading Larry’s New York Post-column first, every single time. Before I ever stepped foot in a press box covering the Rangers, I would email him my half-baked thoughts on his columns. And he would respond. Always. With generosity, with insight, with a patience that only someone who truly loved the craft could muster.

As the New York Post noted, “The best nights, of so many very good nights, were the ones when Larry Brooks roamed the press level and the dressing room of Madison Square Garden, hands in his front pocket, notebook in his back pocket. The poker face was intact, and it was necessary, because tucked in that notebook was The Story.”

When I finally got the chance to cover the Rangers for Inside Hockey, I had to pinch myself. There I was, in the same press box as Larry Brooks. And he couldn’t have been nicer. Watching him work up close only deepened my respect. As he told me on my radio show in 2020,

“I do know that journalists are under attack from all quarters, and it is very important that we maintain our diligence and we maintain our quest for information, because not only are journalists under attack, the Internet has created a situation where leagues and teams obviously have their own message they want to get out, and increasingly they are attempting to minimize outside coverage and prioritize their own coverage. And so we face a different landscape than we did. Certainly, you know, when I started, it was a different world in every aspect, and in many ways it's a much, much better world now, but in some ways it's a more fragile world.”

That was Larry: principled, fearless, and unafraid to say what needed to be said. He understood the responsibilities of his craft, and he carried them with unmatched integrity.

Of course, it wasn’t always smooth sailing. We had our moments. Larry didn’t speak to me for over a year after a brush-up on breakup day in 2016 involving Dan Boyle. I had a relationship with Dan, and when he appeared on my radio show the week after, I focused almost entirely on celebrating his career, with maybe a 2% nod to the altercation.

In fairness to Larry, I don’t think he actually heard the interview itself — just saw the coverage that followed. At the time, Yahoo Sports and others ran with the story and made the Boyle-Brooks confrontation the headline (this was one of those: “Dan Boyle will never apologize for embarrassing Larry Brooks”

I honestly had no idea Larry felt slighted until months later in Toronto at the World Cup. I greeted him with my usual, “Hello Larry, how are you doing ?” and his reply—icy in its simplicity—was,

“Why don’t you ask your buddy Dan Boyle?”

That was classic Larry: blunt, honest, and unwilling to fake civility when he felt wronged

A few months later, I approached Larry. We talked it through. He understood that I was doing my job and, let’s be honest, if the shoe had been on the other foot, he would have reported it too. What impressed me most was that Larry not only saw my side of why I wanted to cover it — he actually heard me. He respected my explanation, accepted it, and moved on. In this business, that kind of understanding is rare.

The fact that he could separate personal feelings from professional principle — and do it with grace — made me respect him even more. In the end, our friendship not only survived; it thrived. Larry became a frequent guest on my radio show, the last time in 2020, a marathon session lasting over 40 minutes, where his passion, insight, and humor shone as brightly as ever.

Larry was more than just a journalist; he was a thinker. A political science major in college, he approached the game and the profession with a keen analytical mind. His columns reflected that intelligence, mixed with a love for the sport that started in his youth:

“You know, my first job was to cover the Islanders, and, you know, with Al Arbor and Bill Torrey and that team, who not only did they become, I think, the greatest team in hockey history, but they were remarkably articulate and equally remarkably willing and eager to talk. So my education in the National Hockey League, you know, my teachers were the New York Islanders of the mid to late 70s.”

Larry had a way of summing up a season or a player with a precision and wit that could sting—or amuse—depending on what he thought they deserved:

On goaltending depth, he once noted, “Alex [Georgiev] has not yet shown that he can carry a team. He has had stretches where he has played three really good games, but he has never backed it up with the fourth.”

And the tributes that poured in after his passing say everything about the mark he left. Henrik Lundqvist wrote :

Howie Rose shared:

Mike Lupica put it this way:

And from a player’s perspective, Jimmy Vesey summed it up perfectly:

The Rangers themselves put it beautifully in their own tribute:

“The entire Rangers organization mourns the loss of Larry Brooks, a titan in hockey journalism for nearly five decades. His coverage of the sport, the NHL, and the Rangers in particular for the New York Post helped connect our fans with the team and game they love. Larry's impactful work was rightfully recognized by the Hockey Hall of Fame when he received the Elmer Ferguson Award in 2018. Our thoughts are with Larry’s family and friends during this difficult time.”

And from the league level, NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman echoed those sentiments:

“Larry Brooks, a Hockey Hall of Fame Elmer Ferguson Memorial Award recipient, will long be remembered in the hockey world for his insightful analysis not only of the New York Rangers but the entire NHL, both on and off the ice. Larry’s love of hockey was evident in his writing at the New York Post in two stints over nearly four decades. Larry didn’t pull punches, and when you read his work, you always knew where he stood. He was a staunch advocate for the players and for the reporters who cover the game.”

Larry Brooks leaves a void that will not easily be filled. But for those of us fortunate enough to learn from him, laugh with him, and occasionally spar with him, his influence will endure. Personally, I will always be grateful — not just for his words on the page, but for the kindness, mentorship, and friendship he showed off it.

Goodbye, Larry. Thank you for everything. The press box — and the world of hockey journalism — won’t be the same without you.

You can hear that full conversation from August 10, 2020, here: