You don’t see the Glass Banger so much as you hear him — a thunderous thump on the plexiglass every time a player so much as blinks near the boards. Clad in a sweat-soaked tee, one hand clutching a lukewarm beer and the other smearing mustard on a hot dog he forgot he bought, he is the emotional engine of Section 104.

"YEAH, LET 'EM KNOW YOU'RE THERE!" — The Glass Banger, always

This isn't just a fan. It's a one-man hype machine. A human foghorn. An unpaid assistant coach with no credentials but unlimited enthusiasm.

The banging isn’t random. It’s strategic (in his mind). He truly believes that if he slaps that glass just right, the fourth line will finally start forechecking with purpose.

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