A Booming Voice That Became A Part Of Rangers' History

For years, it was a Madison Square Garden ritual. A door would swing open near the Eighth Ave. end of the ice, and John Amirante would emerge for his short walk on the blue carpet to a waiting microphone. Then, in a fierce baritone, thunderously belting out the National Anthem, he would lift the building - and as he described it, The Garden would lift him.
Amirante, whose rendition of the Star Spangled Banner before home games spanned generations of Ranger fans, and who is surely ingrained as part of team lore, died Tuesday morning at 83.

For many, he will forever be linked to Game 7 of the 1994 Stanley Cup Finals when even his booming voice could not match the fans' roar that began as soon as he appeared and which simply refused to subside. He never begrudged the crowd for drowning him out, largely because he had always been a Rangers fan and shared their fever. Winning the Cup was his dream come true, too.

The adoration for Amirante followed him to his last game at The Garden on Feb. 25th when he was asked to sing on Jean Ratelle Night. Not a large man but barrel-chested, he brought his characteristic flair, punctuating "bombs bursting in air" with a jab of his right fist. As always, just before "the land of the free" he held the words back with a lingering pause - a theatrical touch that only upped the fans' anticipation.
On hearing the news of his passing, hundreds offered tributes on social media, including a number of present-day Rangers and others from the 1994 team who embraced him. For the victory parade, a spot was reserved for Amirante on one of the floats.

"It was always special to hear his name, see him walk out and sing the way he did," Henrik Lundqvist tweeted on Tuesday. "It's been a big part of my overall experience with the Rangers for 13 years now."
For Amirante, The Garden was a kind of second life. He grew up on Bassford Ave. in the Bronx and began singing with the dance band at Cardinal Hayes High School. He followed in the footsteps of his father, an immigrant from Naples, Italy, who worked as an electrician at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Without going to college, Amirante ultimately became an engineer, specializing in the design of intricate blueprints for air conditioning ducts on battleships.
On Tuesday his wife, Ann, said he managed to cultivate his singing on weekends as a part of a wedding band, crooning Italian love songs like "Innamorata" and "Come Back To Sorrento."
Amirante, who lived in Plainview, L.I., leaves behind his wife; a son, John; two daughters, Debra Amirante-Salino and Susan Feldman; and four grandchildren. Another daughter, Janice, died in 1984.
Ann Amirante said he would often sing to his grandchildren. Her birthday is Feb. 14, and she said he relished serenading her with "My Funny Valentine."
He began rooting for the Rangers when he was a teenager. But decades passed before his passions converged. Three days after sending in a tape, the Rangers asked him to sing the anthem for the first time on Nov. 2, 1980. In time, he became a fixture before every home game, a schedule that eased during the last several years. He also sang at times for the Knicks, Mets and Yankees, but nothing thrilled him like his connection to the Rangers.
Ann Amirante said that the staff tending to him in recent days at North Shore University Hospital on Long Island, regarded him as a legend. Just last week from his hospital bed, he shared some of his repertoire of Italian songs with them.
When they asked him to sing the National Anthem, he said, "I get paid for that." They all laughed together.
Over the years, he described the night the Rangers won the Cup as a pinnacle in his singing life, even if anyone could barely hear him.
"I couldn't hear myself," he said in an interview not long ago. "I had chills going through my body, and the fans were just screaming and chanting. I loved every minute of it. I felt like I was ten feet off the ice."