Courtesy New York Newsday

(March 13, 2009) Shane Hnidy was busy, what with being a professional hockey player in the middle of a game against the Rangers at Madison Square Garden.

But there the Bruins defenseman was Sunday, leaning forward on the bench to speak through a small gap in the Plexiglas to NBC's Pierre McGuire as play continued in the second period.

Hnidy shared an observation about the Rangers' strategy as if he were talking to a teammate to his right. But McGuire was to his left, behind a row of sticks, wearing a suit and holding a microphone.

Strange? Not to McGuire, who shrugged and said, "I was his first pro coach," with the 1996-97 Baton Rouge Kingfish.

Such is the peculiar niche McGuire occupies - both in his role and physical location - as NBC's "Inside the Glass" analyst, a four-year-old innovation, now widely copied, for which he is uniquely suited.

"I knew he was the right guy for it," said producer Sam Flood, who originated the idea.

That is because as a former coach - including the head job with the Hartford Whalers - and long-time hockey fixture, McGuire, 47, has the respect of participants in a way most sideline reporters do not.

Beyond that, he is a bundle of energy and a born schmoozer.

The former is important for a guy who is away from his Montreal home 240 nights a year for various gigs, including ones with TSN in Canada and NBC here.

The latter was evident whether he was strolling out for the second period with John Tortorella, bumping forearms with the Bruins' Mark Recchi before the third, or chatting up members of the support staff, some in position to make his job easier or more difficult in the Garden's cramped quarters.

"He's the Mayor," Flood said of McGuire's natural political skills.

There is no arena where that is more important than the Garden. McGuire and Flood both said it is the toughest venue for "Inside the Glass," which returns for Sunday's Flyers-Rangers game.

Unlike most rinks, there is glass both between McGuire and the ice and between him and the benches, which are blocked off by equipment stands.

The effect is isolating, but at least it's safe. Two years ago, when the Rangers were in Buffalo for the playoffs, McGuire took a puck to his forehead.

"I kept bleeding the rest of the first period," he said. Doctors shot liquid glue into the wound, he said, pointing proudly to the scar. Being a hockey guy, he was back for the second period.

During play, McGuire chats on-air with Doc Emrick and Ed Olczyk and off it with Flood, offering insights from his perch atop a box several inches high.

(Between periods, he rushed to a Garden suite to join fellow analyst Mike Milbury.)

When the Bruins scored in the third, the analysts fingered Sean Avery as a culprit.

As Avery skated to the bench, McGuire could see from five feet away that he was annoyed with himself, allowing McGuire to amplify the original observation.

He turned to me and said, "See how that makes a difference right there?"

Most coaches and players have cooperated so far. During the Cup Finals in 2007, McGuire essentially worked from the Ducks' bench.

His finest moment came in Game 5 of last season's Finals, when he informed viewers that before the second overtime Pittsburgh's Petr Sykora had told him he would score next. He did, in the third OT.

McGuire insisted his banter with players "is more for fun, especially during the regular season," and that he is not concerned with crossing a line by becoming too much a part of the game.

In the third period, his eyes had met Hnidy's during a break.

"Shoot the puck!" McGuire said.

"It's going in," Hnidy responded, smiling.

Said McGuire: "It can't go in if you don't shoot it."