Geoff Smith

The guy who spilled the beer on himself was not happy with me, but he didn't know who Ted Green was.

But the bartender knew who he was.

And the bartender says, hey, Mr. Green, everything's fine here.

Don't worry about it.

Hey, Steve, don't worry about it.

Everything's going to be fine.

We'll get you another beer.

Mr. Green, everything is great.

He was held in such high respect in Beantown.

It was unbelievable.

The other one, too, that we still laugh at when I run into some of the guys from the 1990s, often you're waiting for players to sign cards or sticks on the way in.

That's what it was like in the 90s.

And we always seemed to be waiting for Ted Green in Boston.

They were not waiting for Cujo, not waiting for Doug Waite, Billy Guerin, any of those kind of people.

They were always waiting for Ted Green.

He was a one in a million.

And what a guy away from the arena did so much for the mustard seed here.

He would just show up at the soup lines for all the different organizations in the inner city.

And he would always take a player with him or take one of us with him from the front office.

And he was a great guy.