Blind Item: Which Red Wing, Future, Present or Past does this quote from Swedish scout extraordinaire H. Andersson describe?
“There are other skilled 5-11 guys, but he’s more intense, Works harder, chases the puck, backchecks very good. Not very physical, but skates and works and wants the puck back all the time.”
Ok, I don’t normally do this- Predict or pretend I know anything about prospects. I guess my boy twenty_two inspired me! So I read some brief bios on the Wings picks, and here is the kid I think the Wings will turn into an Yzerman, Zetterberg or Datsuyk.
Gustav Nyquist.
Picked in the 4th round, 121 overall. He’s small, 5’10. 169. His stats are unimpressive, but this is why they picked him:
“There are other skilled 5-11 guys, but he’s more intense, Works harder, chases the puck, backchecks very good. Not very physical, but skates and works and wants the puck back all the time.”
This description epitomizes exactly what the Wings Organization is all about. In fact, as our greats- Stevie Y., Igor, Drapes, Nick, Zetts, Dats. Its what I love about this team and our management.
The Wings picked a kid in the 4th round, who had relatively bad stats and was injured this year. Honestly, I don’t know how these scouts look at 16- 17 year old kids and know that they have something extraordinary. Especially the kids way, way down the list. How can you tell they have potential to succeed in the NHL? Some of it is obviously a gamble, but still.
And yet, mark my words, give it 2-3 years, and if this kid comes on 20-30 pounds heavier and works on his skills by the time he makes it to the show, it will be a clinic on what the Wings do best.
Wait I take that back. Wings do everything the best. Ha, ha. I get to say that all year right?
Bragging rights ROCK!
Shanahan: St. Louis Management has been highly vocal this month about throwing their hat into the Shanahan Ring. They probably would like to be able to market a “Homecoming” when seasons tickets go on sale. Shanny states he is still talking to the Rangers, but the Rangers have no Cap room for Brendan (they are about $1.5 MM below) and they still make noise about Mats.
Chelios: Well Well Well…. He’s not signed with the Wings, though he’s got an offer, and here is what he had to say when he took the Cup to Chicago, to the Chicago Tribune August 24th:
“I found a new home in Detroit, but Chicago is always going to be home. My parents still live here, and I intend on coming back home here some day and spending the rest of my days here, whether it’s as a player or somehow being involved with the Blackhawks.”
OK, so this is mildly irritating, but I doubt he’s going anywhere this year…Still, why not free up the space and bring DMac back into the fold on Cheli’s One-way?
McCarty: Darren has had an offer since June: a two-way contract from the wings, for about $650,000-$700,000. He wants a one way contract, and wants to come back to the Wings and has said so publicly as late as July 25th, then last week news broke that he is quietly shopping himself. HOWEVER… Yesterday in a radio interview with WXYT radio he said; “trying to work something out to definitely come back, and Detroit’s extended me an offer, which I’m definitely grateful for, so, hopefully I’ll be back, after last year, be back at Joe Louis, and try and defend our championship.”
Chelios’ comment makes me more certain that D-Mac is holding out to see what Cheli does. Maybe Chicago is trying to see if they have room for him….I said it earlier this summer, Darren is waiting to see what Cheli does, I am more convinced of that than ever now.
Berard: Flyers signed him to a tryout contract…here comes camp!
over the shoulder of the sprawled netminder.
A man in red with a no-look pass to No. 13, circles behind the net through opposition traffic, takes the pass back from No. 13, draws all defenders to his own side, once more passing back to No. 13, who shoots into an open net.
A man wearing the No. 8 breaks away toward the defending netminder, tapping the puck past the legs of defenseman who appear to be standing still, waits just a nanosecond until the goalie flinches, then shoots past the glove hand.
Datsyuk? Zetterberg? Ovechkin? Three of the sickest shots in the league?
Well, yes, yes. True they are three of the sickest shots in the league. However, I’m not talking about any of these kids …
I’m talking about the patience, creativity and genius in possession, passing and scoring attributable to one legendary player:
Igor Larionov. No. 8.
Otherwise known as the “Professor”, the “Russian Gretzky”, the “Russian Rocket” “Iggy” from a little hockey obsessed town called Voskresensk (or Воскресе́нск, if you prefer) just 88 km outside the skirts of Moscow.
(You can’t make this stuff up…border to border, on google earth, its 88 km.)
08/08/08 Oh, Eight!
Hopefully its no surprise that I am taking the opportunity on this super symbolic day to write about my all time favorite player.
There are volumes of material to write about Larionov’s legacy to hockey, a legacy that continues to grow to this day. His impact on the NHL and hockey around the world is so great that it is incredibly hard to decide where to focus. And no way to properly cover it all without writing a book.
How to narrow it down? How to properly write a tribute to one of the greatest players ever? Seems like there is only one thing to do: reflect on just one of the many epic moments in Larionov’s hockey career. The following strikes me as a symbolic pinnacle.
The Captain, his Comrades and the Cup
On June 7, 1997, the most gifted, unassuming, hardworking, bighearted player to ever Captain an NHL team brought a 42 year drought to an end as Steve Yzerman lifted Lord Stanley’s Cup overhead and skated slowly around Joe Louis Arena presenting the Cup to each raucous tearstained face behind the glass, simultaneously filling and breaking our hearts with pure joy. No more perfect memory can reflect the gravitas of that moment in history for all Detroit Red Wings fans.
But No. 19 then did something that should be considered as important as leading that amazing team to the win, as perfect a memory as that legendary skate around the Joe. The first players Yzerman handed Lord Stanley’s Cup to were Igor Larionov and Slava Fetisov.
As if winning wasn’t enough. As if watching Steve Yzerman skate around wasn’t enough. As if I wasn’t already sobbing my silly little head off. As if I weren’t already so overwhelmed with worship and adoration for No. 19. Then he goes and hands the Cup to Igor and Slava.
The unfettered delight and reverence expressed on the face of Igor Larionov at the moment he hoisted the Cup is one of the best memories I have of my all time favorite player. He and Slava skated around together each with a hand on the cup. Igor took the cup, lifted it partially over head. A sheepish grin plastered to his face, he took a deep breath and lifted it as high as he could and shook it, skating and letting out a couple thick “ya-hews” wearing that boyish grin so often found on a Stanley cup winning player. He kept looking up as if he couldn’t quite believe it, letting another “ya-hew”.
The hand off of the Stanley Cup from Captain to the first player is traditionally most symbolic. A good captain will have thought of it well in advance of that fourth win. Later interviewed on the matter, in typical Stevie Y fashion, he explained:
’’Who should I hand the cup off to?’’ he said his quiet, respectful and simple way, ’’[No question] Slava and Igor jumped into my mind.’’
If you think you know Stevie Y as Detroiters like to think we do, then you just expect this sort of thing. The classiest, most thoughtful, generous Captain in all of hockey handed the cup to Larionov and Fetisov first.
There are any number of reasons Yzerman likely chose to do so. Maybe in recognition of the long, full careers as two of the world’s best players. Maybe as a show of solidarity with his teammates regardless of nationality. Perhaps even making a subtle statement about the evolution of the game. Maybe in recognition of the struggles endured and pathways Larionov and Slava forged to bring freedom to Russian players to play in the NHL. Maybe just to show the world how much these players have contributed to the success of the team in finally winning the Cup. Maybe it was all of these things.
One thing is clear, Steve Yzerman recognized the talent, brilliance and contribution of one of the greatest centers to ever play the game.
Still, it was more than that. Bigger than the amazing men involved.
The gesture was one of the most incredibly underestimated moments in the history of NHL. It left an indelible print on the future, because the gesture of Canada’s own, Stevie Y first handing the cup to Igor and Slava symbolized and heralded acceptance of an era of Russian influence in the NHL.
Fear and Loathing of Moscow
No secret that in the early 90’s European players were barely tolerated and certainly not lovingly welcome in the NHL. Russians undeservedly held a special brand of loathing.
Fans and players, officials and statesmen all publically expressed distain and even anger toward a group of hockey players who must have been completely dumbfounded and disheartened by such a “cold” reception.
All the Russian players wanted was the chance to be a part of the greatest league on earth and to be free of an oppression no American or Canadian will ever suffer. Larionov himself tells stories of time spent as a boy with his family listening to Voice of America on the radio, dreaming of freedom, democracy and the NHL.
Hating players who were great, maybe even better than our best, on the basis of nationality is bizarre and illogical to me. As the cold war ended and the Russian players emerged in the NHL I thought we should be welcoming with open arms anyone who wanted to embrace our democratic way of life. HEDHS, if the actuality of living in the USSR was 1/3 as terrible as we had been told by our history teachers, then these people had been through hell, deserving only respect and acceptance.
Turns out it was probably 150% worse than we can even imagine. Larionov has described his experience playing for the Red Army: “Nobody knew how Tikhonov treated the players until I spoke out. Year after year, living in a training camp behind fences, even paradise becomes hell.”
Something tells me that training camp in Russia wasn’t “behind fences” merely to keep the puck bunnies away. Others have described the barracks and lifestyle of a Red Army hockey player and those descriptions sound remarkably similar to living in prison or detainment camps. Imagine if the only way you would get to play hockey was if you opted for living quarters offering the luxury of an Army barracks and the freedom of a San Quentin furlough program. Then imagine that you called that “paradise”.
How sick is it that initially Russian players were almost universally shunned, and often targeted –
and by “targeted” I mean pummeled –
targeted strictly on the basis of nationality. “Ya hew” and Hurray for the American dream.
Given 50-60 years of cold war mentalities that we were slowly “un- learning” and the rivalries that were fueled by the fact that the Red Army had been so dominant in world and international play, it’s a sad fact that a good many people saw the entry of Russian players into the NHL as a threat to the then existing North American style. Unfortunately, the North American hockey world had a different perspective than me.
Its funny though, because to say that Russian style is a threat to hockey as we know it is to say Wayne Gretzky was a threat to hockey as we knew it.
Geez Juice- do you want to get one pucked? Why would you say such a thing? Well I didn’t. The Great One himself basically said it when he had this to say about Igor Larionov:
“He saw the ice the same as me, passing the puck, hockey sense probably as similar to me as any player who has played the game.”
Gretzky said Larionov was “as similar a player” to himself as anyone. Gretzky saw and acknowledged Larionov’s brilliance, equal to his own. And since Igor Larionov represented the very best Russia had to offer hockey, its impossible to disparage Russian hockey without disparaging No. 99.
Think that’s a bit of a stretch? Flame away, I’m sticking to my guns. But before you tell me to Phuck off, let’s get back to the basic premise: Larionov’s legacy.
For Igor Larionov, raising that Cup had to mean more than winning a trophy. More than winning the most impressive and difficult trophy to obtain in all of professional sporting. It had to be the moment when a lifelong and often impossible dream of freedom and the promise of a democratic way of life was most symbolically realized.
Larionov, whose grandfathers (both of them) were taken away by the KGB and sent to Siberia in the Stalin era, knew more than little about horrors suffered under the Soviet regime. And yet he fearlessly, tirelessly fought the law, risking everything. And after years and years he finally won. He gained his freedom and obtained the freedom of his comrades through his unwaivering efforts.
And when that wasn’t enough- he found the energy in his 37 year old legs (Legs which Tikhonov considered spent at age 29) to help lead an Original 6 team to its first Stanley Cup in 42 years.
Igor Larionov’s brilliance and courage, his mark on the history of Russian hockey, on all of hockey, are not just felt on the ice. Instrumental in bringing Russian players to the NHL. Instrumental in bringing the Detroit Red Wings their first cup in 42 years. Instrumental in changing the face of professional hockey in North America.
Stevie Y recognized it and rewarded it. The Wings won three Stanley cups with Stevie and Igor via a system that relied on a style of play that Larionov most perfectly, brilliantly pioneered and executed.
Over 10 years after that sweet, sweet victory, we see that puck possession, passing, defensive minded forward style so perfectly introduced by Igor Larionov and the Russian Five has ultimately changed the face of the NHL. I argue that it is for the better. Most importantly, I think there is an argument that No. 19 handing the Cup first to No.8 and 2 heralded in the era.
One of Canada’s finest, acknowledging and rewarding the greatest Russian center and the greatest Russian defenseman to ever lace ‘em up, (along with actually winning the Cup) had the impact of silencing many critics and forced every hockey fan, coach and player to recognize at the beneficial impact the Russian style of play was having on the game.
Only a man like Steve Yzerman, respected by every single player in the league, Captain and player beyond reproach and criticism, a man whose judgment, heart, and courage can never be questioned – could have made such an impact with that one symbolic gesture.
I picked that Cup exchange moment from 1997 to write about today not because its one of my favorite memories (though it is), and not because it symbolizes the respect and friendship between three of the greatest to ever skate (because it does), but because it was so clearly a culminating point, a pinnacle in the unbelievable career and life of Igor Larionov.
Want to know more? Well, there are volumes, this guy has one heck of a story. In the coming weeks I hope to find the time to continue writing about the legacy of Igor Larionov’s career, the contributions he made to the world of hockey, and the political significance of his efforts to open Russian hockey to the NHL. I hope you will continue read and enjoy.
(Ed note: This Yzerman quote shows up in a variety of versions…but each make the same point.Copyrighted 2008, all rights reserved by Behrgreer Ltd. and the author. No reproduction or use without the express written permission of the author.
Questions for the offseason: Into what style of hockey will the NHL allow itself to evolve? How will it attract more fans?
As the NHL and its fans debate size of goalie pads, net/crease size, and other rule changes designed to (among other things) open up ice and accommodate the speed and puck handling of today’s League, it behooves Mr. Bettman and co. to consider rink size. I don’t actually think it will happen in my lifetime, but I do think that the sport has now evolved so that many teams play a style of hockey which lends itself to Olympic and euro sized rinks.
The League stands at cross roads, it has for a while now. In the afterglow of the dominance we saw with these Stanley Cup Champion Detroit Red Wings (and their Finals opponent the Pittsburgh Pens), a puck possession team whose style of play would benefit from a larger rink, does the league need to consider rule changes that fully and wholly embrace such style of play?
This is not a Euro versus Canadian player argument. Nationality does not designate who is fastest guy out there, or who is most willing to embrace the evolution of the game.
Whether you like it or not (and I am sensitive to the reality that some of you don’t like it) the dump and run days of “beat the crap out of each other” “five for fighting” are more lore and stereotype of hockey’s past than the present and future incarnation of the game.
Has been for a while now.
Also falling to the wayside over the past 10-12 years, has been the notion that having one superstar forward is a distinct advantage. Even having two solid lines isn’t enough these days. And without depth in your 3rd and 4th lines, you aren’t going all that far.
As our current Stanley Cup champions (and their finals opponent) exemplify, puck possession teams with strong defensive forwards and brilliant two-way defensive players and depth to their 4th lines are the most successful, have been for 17 years or so,
Call it defensive lock, left wing lock, call it boring (although I wouldn’t), the game continues to evolve. And as it does, I find it all the more amazing, interesting and suspenseful. (I actually prefer a low scoring game, but I come from a goalie family- its much more exciting to me to see a shutout than a hat trick…)
Oh don’t get me wrong, when “liberties” are being taken on my team’s best players, I am all for throwing down the gloves and pulling a jersey over someone’s head. But heck, even Avery and Pronger train in the offseason.
Credit/blame the Europeans, credit/blame Scotty Bowman – whoever- but the focus in the game has shifted over these last 10-12 years. The athleticism and skill of the players currently in the league are at entirely different levels than historically. Good teams today are mentally tougher, more athletic, stronger, more disciplined, they rely more on team work, and play smarter together today than in the past.
Why even this year, Gordie Howe said he didn’t think the players of his day could have kept up with the league’s best and brightest in today’s game. I heard a recent interview where he talked about how in his day they’d go drinking and smoking after a game where today’s kids get on a stationary bike and grind out 60 more minutes.
Truth be told, no team is getting very far in the playoffs anymore without embracing the style of game Scotty Bowman brought to and perfected in Detroit. I enjoy that the whole league is embracing it. I recall watching Dallas in the late 1990’s start to take the lessons they had learned in losing to Detroit and try to evolve their game to fit the Wings style, and it was the first time I thought “Scotty Bowman is changing the face of hockey as we know it.”
I love the speed, skill, deft passing, team work strategy exemplified by my Wings. Watching a guy like Draper explode down the ice with such incredible speed, watching Dats work his Barry Sanders moves, Zetts handle the puck through traffic as if it were duct taped to his stick- seeing a guy like Rafalski maneuver as though he were a shark- well,
To me today’s game is gorgeous, exquisite hockey, beautiful to watch and very difficult to play. It takes a skilled, trained eye to watch to keep up with and to understand.
And therein lies a problem.
The NHL wants and needs a bigger fan base. The only way to get it is to find a way to avoid alienating new fans from the start. Hard to not alienate some one when they take one look and just don’t get it.
I suspect that most of the readers and bloggers on these boards no longer realize how hard it is to follow hockey for the untrained eye. You’re too experienced, have watched/played the game too long. I forgot how difficult a game it is to watch, until these playoffs when some of my non-hockey fan friends commented that they had watched games 5 and 6 of the finals. Even the guys were like “I couldn’t even keep up.” “Never knew where the puck was.” “Dang those guys are soo fast.”
I had to explain back checking and cross checking. I had to talk about watching the play unfold, so they could learn where the puck was likely to end up. I even had to explain that it took me a couple years before I could really follow a puck.
The good news is that they were enthusiastic- they appreciated the athleticism, and couldn’t believe how the players flew down the ice, how hard it is to get a goal. How amazing goalies are. One guy called it “soccer on amphetamines, only more interesting.” These finals brought confused but interested viewers to the game. Now we have to keep them.
Personally, I think the fact that you have to learn to watch hockey is meritorious in and of itself. The hockey I love is a thinking man’s game.
Yea, I said it: Hockey has evolved into the thinking man’s game- but its true.
I started watching this league when Bob Probert’s antics on the ice were as compelling as Gretzky’s goals. One of my all time favorite game clips on youtube is the 1997 bench/net clearing brawl between the Wings and the Avs. But times have changed, and here is the most amazing thing: the game has grown better and better.
A blue line goal through a screen, a team of wingers flying down the ice passing through their opponents, setting up and settling down on a power play is more compelling to me than seeing Claude Lemieux get pummeled by Darren McCarty. Give me a 4 on 4 with two puck possession teams and you have my favorite thing in the world, you know, next to ponies.
The NHL needs to grow its fan base and it needs to let the game evolve into the most skilled, challenging, intelligent athletic sport it can be.
Its clear that these two interests are in diabolical opposition. So what is a league to do when it has two conflicting roads it needs to travel?
Seems to me the only way to remain relevant is to stay true to excellence, allow the sport to evolve and hope the fans can keep up.
I think we should stop kidding ourselves that low scoring drives people away (it doesn’t as these 2008 finals clearly showed otherwise) and instead embrace the evolution of the game.
I think that evolution calls for larger rinks.
I expect that I am in the minority on this one. I don’t think any one team would- at this point be totally left in the dust if they did make such a drastic change.
Whatever they do, please (I beg of the hockey and media powers that be) never bring the “fox tail” or glow puck back….
Ever.
Copyrighted 2008, all rights reserved by Behrgreer Ltd. and the author. No reproduction or use without the express written permission of the author.
The guys want to be him and the girls want to , ahem, well, um…. this is a family blog.
Imagine if Brian Burke, Cliff Fletcher, Kevin Lowe and Bryan Murray; Guy Carbonneau, Wayne Gretzky, Tom Renney and Alain Vigneault; Martin Biron, Ryan Miller, Martin St. Louis, Joe Sakic, Joe Thornton and Marty Turco all thought you were the best player in the NHL this year?
Imagine if these guys thought that in this particular year you were better than your mentor, one of the greatest to ever play the game?
Well, that is what Hank Zetterberg woke up to find today. Another award bestowed on the guy who made our heads spin, who amazed every red wing fan during these finals, and quite a few non-redwing fans.
TSN.ca awarded Zetts player of the year. Nice!
At first I didn’t know /think much of this award. Then I saw the names of the people who voted. I was blown away. Consider not just the legends, Greztsky, Murray, Burke but note that Joe Sakic and Marty Turco were on this list too. And not a single active Red Wing representative voted on this award.
The respect and acknowledgment of your talent dedication and achievement, by peers and legends, those who have faced you and those who are probably glad they didn’t have to. What a gratifying circumstance.
To be honest, I came to the Zetts fan club a little late. The first time I really noticed Zetts was in 2005-2006 season. Oct 13, 2005: my Bro and I were in LA, about 12 rows up behind Manny at the Staples Center, enjoying the Wings (eventually and thoroughly) kick the Kings butts. We had both left the D during the lockout and hadn’t seen a live hockey game in what felt like YEARS. We were amped, talking about what we thought the lockout would have done to the team and players. I remember watching the first period and saying: “Damn, bro- who are some of these guys? I don’t recognize half the team!!!”
To be fair, during that game my attention was focused mainly on two issues: first I was little choked up because Ozzie wasn’t playing, and second my brother and I had talked about the fact that that game could be the last time we’d ever (personally) get to see Steve Yzerman on the ice. Ugh- that is still a tough thing to think about. Miss ya Stevie!
Really miss ya.
Slowly but surely I started to get into the swing of it again- a year off made me rusty. My thoughts flew all over, my conversation with my bro went something like this, is Datsyuk any good? oh hellya, geez he looks like Barry Sanders out there! Schnieder looks like he’s coming up- good we need him. Yae Homer! Yae Cheli!
Wasn’t until Zetts scored his pretty little empty netter in the end of 3rd that I was like- OHhhhhh I like this kid!
I mean it was 1 minute left in the third, we were up 3-2, they pulled their goalie and the kid didn’t quit, kept driving, shooting and scoring.
For the 2007-2008 season, my brother and I tried to pull what we call our “California Hat Trick”: travel to each of the three Cali arenas (Kings, Sharks, Ducks) to see the Wings win,
er, um, play.
We made it to Staples twice and despite the elation of watching the Wings kick the Ducks back to Disneyland, it was a weird wild and crazy experience at the Honda Center. Another story for another time.
Didn’t get to San Jose, sigh. Maybe next year.
This year, for all three of these live games my attention was always drawn to the wonder twins. Quite simply, you could not help but be mesmerized by the emerging dominance of Zetts and Dats. I love that sort of evolution, watching a kid grow in his career like that.
You could see the pay off for such a commitment to winning and excellence. Huge! And I am not talking just about trophies.
Watching the kid these last three years I realized that the awards bestowed upon our young Henrik in ‘08 really aren’t merely the product of playoff praise. Nor was his dominant and amazing style of play just a playoff fluke. Rather, it’s a culmination of growth over his total career, and as far as that goes, one thing is abundantly clear- Zetter is just going to keep getting better and better.
Sorry I don’t know why I had to end that with a rhyme, it is a sickness.
Congrats Z! we love ya!
Ok, so if you are a Colorado fan, please just move past this post-without reading- You don’t need the aggravation and I don’t need to be flamed as you will be so inclined after seeing that I take the requisite Red Wing fan post shots below.
What can I say – the Detroit/Avs rivalry will never die, even when your team is terrible.
Although to be totally honest I believe that Joe Sakic is one of the all time greats and Peter Forsberg is totally hot, but Claude “Le Mew” (intentional misspelling)and Patrick Roy are insufferable monsters.
So. What do we think of this Crawford business, exactly? As you can see, its hard for me to be objective because ever since his Colorado days I have despised Marc Crawford for being a hotheaded, unethical, beastly, know it all, upstart who probably doesn’t know as much as he’s credited for. To me he’s the guy who gave “Le mew” and Foote free rein to behave like a couple of the worst thugs in all of hockey ever, a coach that allowed Roy to believe his own hype, the coach who showed such a lack of character that he couldn’t even accord a true legend like Scotty Bowman the respect he deserves.
I am sorry but some things, some people transcend team rivalries.
To me, Marc Crawford is really just the guy who lucked out early in his career to get to coach an extraordinarily talented Quebec/Colorado team. A team which actually might have gone further earlier perhaps if he weren’t coaching them.
I have always wondered if his reputation, his “Jack Adams” of you will, was more a function of the talent he had been given to work, with than his skill as a coach.
There is a camp that says the Nordiques were the heir apparent to the Cup when the team was unceremoniously dumped into Colorado. (I don’t feel too bad about this move since Denver-ites immediately took to having a hockey team in the most annoying, rabid, obnoxious but extremely loyal manner.) However, once in Colorado, the team didn’t immediately live up to the prophecy.
A great coach would have found a way to keep his team and their goals on track in the middle of such adversity.
And now that he has shown that he was unable to do anything with the young Kings, it makes me think that I might have been right all along. That Quebec/Colorado’s eventual success in the 90’s was a function of the talent on that team and not really the result of the guy coaching.
Oh to be fair, the Kings management is a mess, but I saw Crawford coach a couple of times these past couple of years and he was uninspiring, and unable to make the talent he had really work for him.
It will be interesting to see where he ends up. And how he does in the future with another team.
So who do the Kings get? Big ‘ol question. What do you all think?
So he announced. Hasek, exemplifying class befitting a Detroit Red Wing announced to day he’d hang them up.
Congrats Dom, you are a legend, we were lucky to have you and all Wings Fans everywhere wish you the very best.
Some will undoubtedly say, “Sure, whatever, we’ve heard that one before…”
And maybe you are right- but what of it?
Obviously for professional sports, Dom’s age is – well its up there. but for regular life?
How does one go from being one of the all time greats, from daily practices, from living the most competitive driven, intense life you can, when every part of your mind, body and soul drives you to compete at the highest levels, and your earth given talents lead you to be the very best?
Even Secretariat raced along side the colts in his paddock long after retirement.
If Dom finds himself standing behind the boards next year, watching the kids skate around and his champion sized heart drives him back to the rink, it wouldn’t surprise me (and frankly, any team would be lucky to have him.).
You can’t take the heart and spirit out of a man, just because his legs are a little tired, a little slower.
Dominik Hasek will always be a true champion, whether in goal or in the paddock.
Copyrighted 2008, all rights reserved by Behrgreer Ltd. and the author. No reproduction or use without the express written permission of the author.
A puck slid in slow motion across a blue crease, bouncing and skipping, ever so near a red line, as a (then) 2 time Stanley Cup winning goalie stretched, twisted and strained as if tossed from the seats in cephalopod-ic fashion well after the buzzer sounded. A Heroic (and repeat) effort by the young man in Black, this time thwarted. Two teams fighting past the bitter end.
A throng of red and white suited, scruffy faced, men descended upon the one in goal with complete jubilation. The unfettered joy that comes from winning a prize you’ve spent two months chasing and a lifetime dreaming of. The joy that never lessens, no matter how many times you might get to experience it.
A brilliantly talented Conn Smythe winner skated around in a quick circle showing more emotion than I’d ever seen from him, but also with the grace and humility of a man who knows there is a bigger prize ahead. Neo–like shades of a man who wore the Number 19 pass through my mind.
A perfect Captain lifted a 35 pound Silver Chalice overhead and properly bestowed a kiss, passing it to one who had never before raised a cup in his 17 years in the league, then to a kid from a town of 300 in Newfoundland… and so it went, each player raising, kissing, taking a spin, then passing it to another, from one best friend to the next, from kids to men to elder statesmen, to a man whose second chances and nine lives make me as sappy as his silly toothless grin. From Sweden to Canada, to Russia, to Finland, to the Czech Republic, to the US and back the Cup was passed… and no one’s nationality mattered a bit.
This June 4th, 2008 they all were simply the Best Hockey Players in the World, members of the Red Wing Family. Stanley Cup Champions, several of them 4 times over.
Hats came out, cigars, and more boisterous chaos as the cup got passed around the ice, players, management, owners taking a skate and finally the inevitable silly pile up they call the team photo.
And Lord Stanley’s Cup was won. The most difficult piece of silver in sports to obtain, the chalice that no one wins until they leave it all out there on the ice in appeasement of the hockey gods, was home.
I didn’t know what I would write on this first day after finally watching these indestructible Red Wings hoist the Cup- but when I woke this morning, everything in my head and heart had settled and these are the thoughts that rose to the top, like a slow sepia tinged montage of an amazing night that will last a very very long time.
(I’d tell you to cue the freaking orchestra and grab some Dramamine, if I were myself this morning, but I am not. I am an elated Red Wings fan and my team has just won the Stanley Cup, so “vurp” if you must- I am going to let myself be as sappy and emotional as I possibly can.)
A lone fan sat in her Brentwood condo with tear stained cheeks and a smile that couldn’t be wiped away, fielding calls from family members across country.
“We did it!” a Mom cried from Phoenix.
“Yee Haw, They did it!!!!!” from a Sister in Santa Barbara.
“go wings!” from my amazing 18 month old niece. (yes we have been repated this so much she finally picked up on it.)
“Wish we could have watched it together” from a Brother who had this very day flown to the D.
Through my tears of joy, I wished it too.
NHL Hockey is a family affair in my world. My mom’s long time boyfriend gave my brother and I some of the best memories of our silly little lives in the form of seats to Wings games throughout the late 1990’s, where we had the inordinate and impossible luck to sit 18 rows up behind the penalty box for well over 15 games a season.
My grandpa smuggled my sister and I into a game at the Olympia by bringing the ticket takers a six pack of Pabst.
My mother, brother and I watched almost every single playoff game together from 1995 through 2002.
Then we all left the D, spread across the country and I began to feel the pangs of watching alone.
When we do get together for playoff games now, we cherish it as if it were Christmas. I had many games with my Brother and Sister this year, but not all of them. Not last night.
I wanted to hug my brother screaming, jumping up and down, maybe even crack a tasty (albeit undeserved unearned) bottle of bubbly and toast with my sister and mom. But we were a continent apart, able only to text and call. I was sobbing, I could hear my brother choke up a little. But we were apart and I was alone.
Except I wasn’t.
Early in these Playoffs, I discovered the most wonderful live game time online forum of others like me, to share the experience with. It’s amazing to me that you can feel so connected just through words typed into a temporary cyberspace forum. But it happened, over the course of these last two months, we learned about each other, we praised each other, we stuck up for each other.
I now have a friend in Ohio who runs (among other things) a foundation in honor of his baby girl, I have a friend in Chicago who has insane talent and the kind of calming, sage, intellect I only aspire to, I have a friend in Canada somewhere whose too young to drink beer, and who despite proclaiming she’s shy, found a voice in this forum, I have a friend in North Carolina (I think) whose nervousness, superstitions and excitement for each playoff game always warmed my heart. I have friends in Iowa and Guam who struggle with all their might just to get reception through bad connections and tornado warnings. I have a friend in Toronto who borrows laptops just to connect on game day!
I even have a friend who is (in his own words)a “rabid” Penguins fan, and who watched his team’s rise and fall from a hotel in Madison, Wisconsin online with a bunch of crazed Red Wing fans. I don’t totally understand him, but I know I luv ‘em!
I have 40 more amazing friends, from all around this continent: Toronto and other parts of our neighbor to the north, New York, Florida, Tenn, Wisconsin, Oregon, Colorado, Iowa, Hawaii, Calgary, Guam, Texas, Cali, Sweden, Northern and Western Michigan and of course the D, its Downtown and suburbs.
We are all ages, from our late teens to our 30’s, 40’s and 50’s. We come from all walks of life.
We are huge part of the reason they call Detroit “Hockeytown”. Bcause no matter where we have spread to, where we live, we love our Wings:whether in sickness or health, in (os)good and “dead” times.
We are not definable by Nielsen ratings, but we are just as loyal as the guy who smuggled the octopus into the Igloo and then bought another ticket to go back in when he got kicked out.
The reason they call Detroit “Hockeytown”, and the reason it deserves the moniker is often debated- but here’s one more in the “totally deserves and earns it” column:World-wide, Red Wing Fans are people who so love the Detroit Red Wing Franchise that they have to connect in anyway possible with their own kind. We live and die by this team no matter where we are.
A world wide out pouring of love and respect. Case in point- a wonderful co-worker – a Diehard LA Kings Fan, who lives and dies with his own hometown team understood as he handed me his replica Stanley Cup trophy today and said- “You can borrow this for a little bit.” I placed it on the ledge of my office window.
And then the water works started all over again.
A solitary Red Wings fan sat in her California living room, far from family, far from Detroit, far from the Team, watching her beloved team hoist the Stanley Cup and she wasn’t alone.
Congratulations Detroit Red Wings, once more you have brought me to tears and made me proud of you and my hometown. You have brought me friends and given me so much in this life time that I can’t possibly express it here.
Nothing but love.
Copyrighted 2008, all rights reserved by Behrgreer Ltd. and the author. No reproduction or use without the express written permission of the author.
So I woke up this morning singing the song “Stand up” by Bran Van 3000. It’s a super positive song with a chorus that goes something like this:
“If your slipping through the cracks,
Or you’re still trying to crack the code,
We are reaching for the prize,
And there is one thing I know,
Stand up.
I will stand up
Even when I get down.”
So appropriate for my Wings! I can’t get it out of my head and for once I don’t mind it-
Truthfully, I caught part of 40 year old Virgin last Saturday and that damn Asia song has been running through my head ever since. AAAARRRGHHH- Barry –frickin- Manilow would have been a welcome change, but BV3 is infinitely better, and I didn’t even hear the BV3 song first, it just popped up.
I think it’s a good omen- I mean if I can get over my funk, the Wings surely have.
“We are reaching for the prize and there’s one thing I know,
Stand up.
I will stand up
Even when I get down.”
GAME ON!
Was struggling to get over the disappointment of Monday’s game- wondering how in the hell the players do it. But when I “woke up this morning with the urgency of “Red”” (its another paraphrased line from “Stand UP”) I knew it would be ok.
I know the Wings can win tonight. Personally, I think there are several keys to the win: Better play in the first period, Dats needs to score, Zetts needs to keep doing what he is doing, Ozzie needs to be perfect, and they can’t let the cup get into their head in the last minute of play. In other words play their own game- but at an even higher level of intensity than they knew they could.
The nervousness of waiting a whole day is going to take its toll, and I am not that busy at work this week (my boss is ultra cool, about me and my obsession with the Wings), so I have no real distraction.
Anyone else feeling this nervous buzz, sort of an underlying hum? I feel as if I have drank a Starbucks venti red eye, and a 5 hour Energy Drink all after eating a bag of cotton candy.
Oh- here’s a funny story. I have a very well connected friend who, due to the nature of her job received an email from the Director of Entertainment Publicity at the NHL offering game 6 tix to interested celebrities. Turns out, having your NHLConnect Blog appear on Page 1 does not qualify you as a celebrity. Who knew?
Sigh. Gotta be someway to get famous in the next 2-3 hours….
Was driving my brother to LAX so he could get home to the D for the game, when I just got totally pizzed at the traffic- And let me tell you there is nothing you can do about LA freeway traffic, so getting pizzed is just screwing with your own health. Then I realized I was super antsy, just want to get this game started. 11 hours is a long time.
Alright all, time to do some work, find a distraction, then maybe spend some time thinking about what could happen tonight. If you don’t hear from me again today- GO WINGS!!!!
Copyrighted 2008, all rights reserved by Behrgreer Ltd. and the author. No reproduction or use without the express written permission of the author.
One minute left of play. 1 minute. NBC had just shown Lord Stanley’s Cup. It was being polished and made ready for presentment. Tears welled up in my eyes – they still do when I picture it. It had been an incredible game. I watched the clock tick down, barely breathing.
Right to the 34 second mark.
34 seconds. 34 frickin seconds.
Not a sport for the faint of heart. How many times and how many ways can to say you are exhausted, spent, numb? And what do you do when you realize that its going to get more and more tense every time here on out and the stakes are going to be that much higher?
What kind of person are you if you willingly do this to yourself? If you willingly anticipate a game almost (almost) exactly like the one played last night? If you stay awake until dawn watching 6 insane periods, knowing you’d be getting less than 3-4 hours of sleep for work the next day, sitting on your hand for an extra 60 minutes of play waiting for just one goal…just one.
Well you are probably a hockey fan. This is not a sport for the faint of heart. And no matter what side you cheered for last night, well that was some hockey.
I’d photoshop a Charlotte’s Web graphic of Wilbur with “Some Hockey” written above it if I knew how, and had a lot more time on my hands.
Of course the argument could be made that with all the blogging I do I seem to have plenty of time on my hands, but really I am just not getting a lot of sleep these days…
I’m numb- it feels a lot like heartbreak, except there is absolutely no way I’ve given up the slightest bit of hope and faith in my Red Wings. I’m not worried about the ultimate outcome.
But it was a tough loss. A tough tough loss. Would have been for either side.
34 seconds.
This blog is a little disjointed today but its sort of how I feel. All my thoughts are just sort of floating in and out. Here they are.
When I said I wanted a good game, and hoped the Pens would show some character , which I had previously found lacking, well I certainly didn’t mean for them to win – you know, just give a good show of it. (the grimacing faced icon is implied). Truly, I was impressed by Sid and Co.’s play- they definitely played with the hearts of lions. Like they said they would- with nothing left to lose. I said as much to my brother, then I realized that it negatively impacted my team, and well, I stopped lavishing praise on the Pens.
except to say this- Hossa- now there is a kid who left it on the ice.
34 seconds. I keep going over that last damn regulation goal in my head. And I want to blame someone, but there was no one to blame. Ozzie had his skate on it on the first poke, and then he had two options, keep the leg there, or anticipate the rebound was coming in higher, so he scrambled with the glove. Can’t say it was a bad move because either way that puck was coming back at him. Sofa king sickening.
Ozzie didn’t let me down. I know what the naysayers are are thinking- but he made the big saves too. That score in the first period could easily have been 4-3, but BOTH goalies kept their teams in this game through 6 periods.
Fleury played the game of his life, +50 shots, many of which were good scoring chances. For a while in the second OT I thought he was wearing a Plexiglas shield from his shoulders. He really really stood on his head.
Top Shelf--My brother insists its harder to score top shelf, but H-E-D-H-S, that is the way to go with this goalie I swear his weakness is that he sprawls like a stripper. For real- at one point I think I saw $1.00 bills coming out of his pads. I know, I joke, I “kid” if you will. He prolly’ had a few $20’s shooting out of there. Laughter is supposed to lessen the pain, right?
First periods are turning out to be crucial in this series- neither team was settled in the first 20 – it looked like a three ringer out there. Wings have to take control of the first period. And set the tone. I think I they do that, then all they have to worry about is the last two minutes of play and 6-on-5 action.
Dats. And they continue to almost completely shut Pavel Datsuyk’s scoring opportunties down- I couldn’t figure out how they were doing it. Sure they are all over him whenever he gets into the lane, but a friend pointed out that they are spreading the play out, possible just to try and keep Fleury’s view from being obstructed. Whatever the reason, it’s keeping Dat’s to 1 goal, 1 point these entire finals- and if you told me that was gonna happen after Game 2, I would have told you that you know nothing about Hockey.
Zetts continues to leave me spellbound. I don’t know how he finds his way through that all that traffic with the puck…. He’s like manna from heaven. Talk about the heart of a lion- He’s got the heart of Secretariat. And a little of his speed too.
Cleary, Franzen, Maltby, Helm – I expect the Mule to score big, but the other three- played as tough as I have seen them play all through the playoffs. I was especially excited to see Maltby be so dynamic on the ice- was hoping it would give the other guys a lift. He really stepped it up.
Rafalski and Stuart- they gave me fits, but each time they did, they redeemed themselves.
Officiating. I’m tired of complaining about the obvious, I know it looks like sour grapes- I mean COME ON! And NOOOOO, even though I think Hudler’s 4 minute high stick was unintentional, I am not talking about that call- but is there really anyone out there who saw any goaltender interference, once let alone twice? Utter horse hockey.
What is “horse hockey” anyway- Puke or Polo?
Felt like we were playing Marco Polo looking for a goal last night.
What if it has ended earlier? Would it have been better to have lost earlier? Many people will say yes, they will cite old legs, ages difference, momentum, etc… But I am not so sure.
First, Legs: this “old legs” business, these Wings are not as old as people want to play up. But if it lulls Pittsburgh into a falls sense of security, well then, let’s by all means, promulgate that stereotype.
Second- Momentum. I always try to find the lesson a team needs to learn after losing to be successful in the next game. Here you’d be inclined to think the Wings gave the momentum away, but I think if that were the case, the game would have early ended in the 1st or even 2nd overtime. Pens found their feet- but we didn’t lose ours, and I still think the Wings are the better team. Now they just have to prove it. I don’t think momentum will affect the Wings, though I believe it will affect the Pens, and I think they will have some- at least for the first period.
Third- Heart. What I saw in that third overtime was that these Red Wings too have hearts of lions- that these Wings were in it to win it, and they stayed in it to win it that they have as much if not more heart than the Pens. How can I possibly justify such an opinion? Well because remember- technically the Wings didn’t have to win this game, but they played as if it was a must win- and that is why I think I am so sure of the ultimate outcome.
No, no ladies and gentlemen, this is not a sport for the weak. Last night’s game reminds us all why hoisting the most important 35 pounds of silver known to the sports world is so incredibly significant, because the opportunity to do so it is so completely earned and never granted to anyone who hasn’t left it all out there on the ice.
Copyrighted 2008, all rights reserved by Behrgreer Ltd. and the author. No reproduction or use without the express written permission of the author.
