On Wednesday night, 17,000 people flooded into Madison Square Garden. There were countless Rangers jerseys, scores of Strong Island's finest haircuts, innumerable pairs of Uggs, two tattooed Southern boys with megawatt charm, a magician, and me. Screens around the rim of the Garden projected images of a green card table while Justin, the first magician I'd ever seen wear a bicep-hugging t-shirt, flipped cards to the melody of a Katy Perry song.