The New York City firefighter and police hockey teams lined up at the blue line on Saturday night, craning their necks to watch the September 11 tribute overhead on the Jumbotron. The FDNY scrapped the customary last names from the back of their jerseys, in favor of one universal message: "Bravest." The color guard's flags were unfurled at center ice, and the police band was ready. When the national anthem was sung, 18,000 people stood a little taller. Pride rippled through the rafters in Madison Square Garden at this 29th annual charity game, mixing with the haze from the pyrotechnics show that accompanied the anthem. A bell tolled for those who were lost, and it was eerily apparent no one had come just for hockey.

For the second time in a year, I cried at a hockey game. The first time was a happy occasion -- watching Ray Bourque raise the Stanley Cup over his head after 22 long years in the NHL. This time, it was from the wave of emotion that swept over everyone in the building -- the fans, the vendors, the players, everyone -- as we bowed our heads in memory.

This shadow does not pass. It is still as long and dark as it was six months ago. But New York City's firemen and police officers have a motto: "Never forget." You can only go on and affirm life.

On Saturday, that meant cutting back a little on the usual raucous sideshows. But only a little. "This game is usually a bloodbath, but this year, it's all about camaraderie," said officer Patrick Lantry of the 90th Precinct, who attended the game with buddy Phil Pape, his old partner and current New York fireman.

That doesn't mean fans refrained from squaring off on opposite sides of the arena, dressed in their NYPD and FDNY garb, ranting at each other, waving signs and puffy hands, yelling "hit 'em, hit 'em." And that doesn't mean that the players didn't take their advice -- there was hitting, and a lot of it. There was even a little blood when a PD forward took a high stick to the face. That doesn't mean the teams or the fans were less aggressive, but somehow it felt like more of a shared experience than us-versus-them.

I spent the night walking around the arena, talking to firemen who busted on the cops, and cops who busted on the firemen. I talked to wives and kids, I talked to the drum section of the police band, to Ranger legend Rod Gilbert, and to a guy selling beer on the concourse. I talked to two visiting bunches of firemen, one group from my hometown of Livingston, N.J., who made the trip in through the Lincoln Tunnel, and one group from Donegal, Ireland, who made the trip across the Atlantic. Everyone was at the game for the same reasons -- brotherhood, togetherness, support.

And, they got to see a heck of a hockey game, a tight-checking goaltending duel that remained scoreless through the first period and ended with the police on top by a slim 2-1 margin.

Post-game, the police were ecstatic, the firemen forlorn. "It was bittersweet to be in the Garden and end up on the short end of the stick," says fireman Joe Byrne, a 15-year veteran on the FDNY team. "We came here to play hockey and we want to win, but in the end, we're firemen first."

The "343" shaved into the back of FDNY forward John Conroy's head reminded everyone of the number of firefighters lost on September 11th. Don't forget, there's more to life than hockey, it seemed to say. True enough, but sometimes a game lets you celebrate life again.

I'll never forget that, either.