#19
I was born with hockey in my blood, you could say. My mom was a huge fan and would watch the games, with me in her arms, when I was an infant.
In Dim lore, it has been told that one of my first words was "goal!" and I used to raise my arms over my head as I said it. Legend also has it that the first time I stood by myself was when I was being held up by my uncle and, forgetting he was supporting an infant, raced to the TV to see a Derek Sanderson fight up-close. He turned around to see my wobbling, unsteady but upright, much like Sanderson's pugilist opponent.
I was a Bruins fan from that moment on. I loved the Bruins. I cried when they would lose in the playoffs. I despised everything Montreal Canadien, as any Bruins fan will tell you, goes hand in hand with being a Boston fan.
My uncle (a different one than the one who unintentionally got me to stand) was also a big hockey fan. Big Bruins fan as well. We talked hockey all the time (Still do, in fact...we are going to a game together next month). He used to get a publication in the mail called The Hockey News. It was like a newspaper and contained everything hockey. From the pros, to the minors, to the juniors, The Hockey News was where you went to find out about teams, players, stats, anything. Of course, this was well before the Al Gore-invented Internet and even Wikipedia.
I reveled in any positive Bruins article (and any coincidental Canadiens slump), despite the news being weeks, sometimes months old. I also liked reading about the junior players coming up. They were somewhat closer to my age than the guys I would see skating up and down the Garden ice, with mustaches and beards and balding, scarred heads. Even though these junior players were 6, 7 years older than me, they were still just kids themselves. Like me.
I read a bunch about players like Mario Lemieux, Brian Lawton, Pat LaFontaine. Some of those guys went on to become great NHL players, which was cool, because I remember reading about them when they were 16 years old and constantly making other kids cry by scoring like 13 goals a game by themselves.
But there was one kid that always seemed to have an article written about him. He played for the Peterborough Petes and had a strange last name. One I wasn't sure how to pronouce. My eyes would read and re-read his name, typed in black ink on grey paper. Yzerman. "Izzerman", I would say to myself. "This kid is pretty good."
In 1983, Yzerman (actually, I would come to find out, was pronounced "Eyes-er-man") was selected by the truly awful Detroit Red Wings. That was the downside of being drafted pretty high. It usually meant that the team you were going to sucked pretty hard. But that was the time that I became a Red Wing fan. Because I was already an Yzerman fan.
That wasn't always the case with the Wings. They were one of the Original Six teams in the league (along with Boston, the New York Rangers, the Chicago Blackhawks, the Montreal Canadiens, and the Toronto Maple Leafs). Back in the 50s, they were formidable. Hockey legends like Ted Lindsay, Terry Sawchuck, and Gordie Howe (considered by many to be the best all-around NHLer ever) won a few Stanley Cups.
But teams' successes were cyclical. To enjoy winning, you had to endure periods of failure. For the Red Wings, after Howe, this era lasted longer than most. The "Dead Wings" were pretty much a fiasco when 1983 rolled around; one of the worst teams in the league. And they had that distinction for quite awhile.
Come the 1983 draft, as good as Yzerman was, Red Wings General Manager Jim Devellano wanted someone else instead. But when the New York Islanders drafted American-born Pat LaFontaine instead, he went with Yzerman.
Yzerman had a stellar rookie year, scoring nearly 40 goals and finishing one point short of 90 while playing in all of his team's 80 games. He finished second in the league for the Calder Trophy for Rookie of the Year.
But this wasn't a Larry Bird story. The arrival of Yzerman didn't immediately signal the revival of the Dead Wings. They snuck into the playoffs (like an embarrasingly large number of teams do in the NHL), but couldn't do much.
As the years went on, Yzerman put up impressive offensive numbers. Just three years after his arrival, he was made captain of the Wings; a title he would carry for the rest of his career. In the 1988-89 season, he had a career best 65 goals and 90 assists. But the Wings faltered early in the playoffs again.
It didn't matter to me. I would still follow them intently. Through the newspapers at first, and then on-line. Whenever they would come to Boston, I would go and root them (and specifically, Yzerman) on. This ritual became more melancholy as the years went on as the NHL altered their scheduling system resulting in the Red Wings playing the Bruins only once every two years in Boston. And, usually, Yzerman was hurt when it came time for that game.
But despite his offensive prowess, Yzerman was largely thought to be a one-way player. Great with the puck, but a liability in his own end. And to win, you need to have great two-way players. Yzerman wanted to win.
In the early 90s, the Wings hired legendary coach Scotty Bowman as their coach and his influenced caused Yzerman to re-think his game. To play, to win, and to define his captaincy, he needed to be better defensively. So, he worked on that and saw his offensive numbers suffer somewhat. He still put up solid point totals, but the days of 50+ goals, 120+ points days were long gone. And they were still without a Stanley Cup championship.
They came close in 1995, but got swept in the Finals by the New Jersey Devils. It broke my heart. I was devastated, but hung with them.
The Wings came close again in 1996, with Yzerman scoring a series-clinching goal against the Wayne Gretzky-led St. Louis Blues in double overtime (a goal that caused me to do running laps around the upstairs of my parents' house for like 20 straight minutes to burn off my pent up energy), but fell in the Conference finals.
Then, in 1997, the Wings returned to the Finals against the highly favored Philadelphia Flyers. I remember that being a pretty shitty time for me. I was still living at home (which was fine, but not where I wanted to be at that age) and my long-time girlfriend had just given me the ol' Spanish Archer (El bow). But the Wings were in the Finals. And guess what?
David slew Goliath and Yzerman, the Captain, raised the Stanley Cup over his head and ended a 42 year championship drought by sweeping the Flyers.
That was a blur for me.
So, when they went back to the Finals again and won by sweeping the Capitals, I remember sitting back and soaking it in. Happy for Stevie Y. Happy for me. A fan. I constantly had to explain why I was a Red Wings fan. Now, I didn't have to do that anymore.
And to further cement his legacy, this player, once criticized for being too one-dimensional, won the Conn Smyth trophy for the best defensive forward following the 1999-2000 season. A true professional, a consummate teammate, and a complete and selfless hockey player.
Yzerman dealt with his share of injuries throughout his career. Mostly knee injuries that robbed him of some speed and mobility, but none of his heart and courage. He missed substantial games in the mid-90s with injuries and again from 2000-2002. At times, you could see him grimmacing in pain as he skated, half limping, but he soldiered on and led the Wings to the conference finals against their arch-rival Colorado Avalanche.
But the Wings stood with their backs against the wall going back to Colorado, 1 loss from being eliminated. It was then that Yzerman had a little chat with his team.
The thing about Yzerman throughout his career is that you would wonder how he could be an effective captain. His talent was unquestioned. His work ethic, unparalleled. His desire and heart, unmistakable. But he never seemed to get fired up. His interviews were insightful, but filled with emotionless monotone. How could he inspire without getting loud and in his team's face?
Well, whatever he said during that team meeting worked. The Wings came out and won the next two games and then won the Stanley Cup again against the Carolina Hurricanes. This was probably my most rewarding as a Red Wings fan. It was hard-fought. The team was getting older, but dealth with some amazing adversity to fight through and win. And in the post-game interviews, Yzerman's teammates explained how this quiet, humble, and unassuming leader can inspire. They said that Steve doesn't say a lot. So, when he decides to say something, they all listen.
He had a knee surgery in the off-season and missed a ton of games in 2002-03. The Wings had a disappointing playoffs that year and the subsequent one, when Yzerman took a slapshot off the face, putting him out for the remainder of the playoffs with a smashed cheekbone and a torn iris.
He still came back the next year (which was last year) and was one the better Wings players in the second half before they fell again, early in the playoffs.
There were whispers after they were eliminated by the Oilers last year that Stevie would hang them up. He had a 22-year career and had 692 goals and 1,063 assists. He's currently sixth all-time in the NHL in scoring. But most importantly, he has three championships, which signify and epitomizes his commitment to the team before any and all personal accomplishments. And he also won a gold medal for Canada in the 2002 winter Olympics.
Tonight, the Red Wings retired Steve Yzerman's number 19 to the rafters at the Joe Louis Arena and man, do I wish I was there. Just to further illustrate Yzerman's humility, here's a quote from the ceremony:
"My jersey is going to go up there and I hope as you watch it go up, and when you come back and see it, you give yourself a pat on the back because you're a big reason why that jersey is up there," he said. "It doesn't represent what I did, but what we did as an organization."
It's a great occasion, but I'm pretty sad tonight. I've rooted for this guy since I was about ten years old. I was a Red Wings fan since 1983. I don't know what team to root for anymore now that he's retired.
But I'm still rooting for Steve Yzerman. And it's a story like this that shows you why.
In these days, where it seems like many athletes are interested only in bling, an entourage, and their own personal achievements, a sports figure like Yzerman really stands out. There were always more important things to him. Like winning, giving his best effort despite the physical toll, and setting an example for and earning the admiration of teammates and fans alike.
Best of luck in your post-hockey career, 19. And if you ever find yourself in Dim City, give me a yell. I'd love to shake your hand.
In Dim lore, it has been told that one of my first words was "goal!" and I used to raise my arms over my head as I said it. Legend also has it that the first time I stood by myself was when I was being held up by my uncle and, forgetting he was supporting an infant, raced to the TV to see a Derek Sanderson fight up-close. He turned around to see my wobbling, unsteady but upright, much like Sanderson's pugilist opponent.
I was a Bruins fan from that moment on. I loved the Bruins. I cried when they would lose in the playoffs. I despised everything Montreal Canadien, as any Bruins fan will tell you, goes hand in hand with being a Boston fan.
My uncle (a different one than the one who unintentionally got me to stand) was also a big hockey fan. Big Bruins fan as well. We talked hockey all the time (Still do, in fact...we are going to a game together next month). He used to get a publication in the mail called The Hockey News. It was like a newspaper and contained everything hockey. From the pros, to the minors, to the juniors, The Hockey News was where you went to find out about teams, players, stats, anything. Of course, this was well before the Al Gore-invented Internet and even Wikipedia.
I reveled in any positive Bruins article (and any coincidental Canadiens slump), despite the news being weeks, sometimes months old. I also liked reading about the junior players coming up. They were somewhat closer to my age than the guys I would see skating up and down the Garden ice, with mustaches and beards and balding, scarred heads. Even though these junior players were 6, 7 years older than me, they were still just kids themselves. Like me.
I read a bunch about players like Mario Lemieux, Brian Lawton, Pat LaFontaine. Some of those guys went on to become great NHL players, which was cool, because I remember reading about them when they were 16 years old and constantly making other kids cry by scoring like 13 goals a game by themselves.
But there was one kid that always seemed to have an article written about him. He played for the Peterborough Petes and had a strange last name. One I wasn't sure how to pronouce. My eyes would read and re-read his name, typed in black ink on grey paper. Yzerman. "Izzerman", I would say to myself. "This kid is pretty good."
In 1983, Yzerman (actually, I would come to find out, was pronounced "Eyes-er-man") was selected by the truly awful Detroit Red Wings. That was the downside of being drafted pretty high. It usually meant that the team you were going to sucked pretty hard. But that was the time that I became a Red Wing fan. Because I was already an Yzerman fan.
That wasn't always the case with the Wings. They were one of the Original Six teams in the league (along with Boston, the New York Rangers, the Chicago Blackhawks, the Montreal Canadiens, and the Toronto Maple Leafs). Back in the 50s, they were formidable. Hockey legends like Ted Lindsay, Terry Sawchuck, and Gordie Howe (considered by many to be the best all-around NHLer ever) won a few Stanley Cups.
But teams' successes were cyclical. To enjoy winning, you had to endure periods of failure. For the Red Wings, after Howe, this era lasted longer than most. The "Dead Wings" were pretty much a fiasco when 1983 rolled around; one of the worst teams in the league. And they had that distinction for quite awhile.
Come the 1983 draft, as good as Yzerman was, Red Wings General Manager Jim Devellano wanted someone else instead. But when the New York Islanders drafted American-born Pat LaFontaine instead, he went with Yzerman.
Yzerman had a stellar rookie year, scoring nearly 40 goals and finishing one point short of 90 while playing in all of his team's 80 games. He finished second in the league for the Calder Trophy for Rookie of the Year.
But this wasn't a Larry Bird story. The arrival of Yzerman didn't immediately signal the revival of the Dead Wings. They snuck into the playoffs (like an embarrasingly large number of teams do in the NHL), but couldn't do much.
As the years went on, Yzerman put up impressive offensive numbers. Just three years after his arrival, he was made captain of the Wings; a title he would carry for the rest of his career. In the 1988-89 season, he had a career best 65 goals and 90 assists. But the Wings faltered early in the playoffs again.
It didn't matter to me. I would still follow them intently. Through the newspapers at first, and then on-line. Whenever they would come to Boston, I would go and root them (and specifically, Yzerman) on. This ritual became more melancholy as the years went on as the NHL altered their scheduling system resulting in the Red Wings playing the Bruins only once every two years in Boston. And, usually, Yzerman was hurt when it came time for that game.
But despite his offensive prowess, Yzerman was largely thought to be a one-way player. Great with the puck, but a liability in his own end. And to win, you need to have great two-way players. Yzerman wanted to win.
In the early 90s, the Wings hired legendary coach Scotty Bowman as their coach and his influenced caused Yzerman to re-think his game. To play, to win, and to define his captaincy, he needed to be better defensively. So, he worked on that and saw his offensive numbers suffer somewhat. He still put up solid point totals, but the days of 50+ goals, 120+ points days were long gone. And they were still without a Stanley Cup championship.
They came close in 1995, but got swept in the Finals by the New Jersey Devils. It broke my heart. I was devastated, but hung with them.
The Wings came close again in 1996, with Yzerman scoring a series-clinching goal against the Wayne Gretzky-led St. Louis Blues in double overtime (a goal that caused me to do running laps around the upstairs of my parents' house for like 20 straight minutes to burn off my pent up energy), but fell in the Conference finals.
Then, in 1997, the Wings returned to the Finals against the highly favored Philadelphia Flyers. I remember that being a pretty shitty time for me. I was still living at home (which was fine, but not where I wanted to be at that age) and my long-time girlfriend had just given me the ol' Spanish Archer (El bow). But the Wings were in the Finals. And guess what?
David slew Goliath and Yzerman, the Captain, raised the Stanley Cup over his head and ended a 42 year championship drought by sweeping the Flyers.
That was a blur for me.
So, when they went back to the Finals again and won by sweeping the Capitals, I remember sitting back and soaking it in. Happy for Stevie Y. Happy for me. A fan. I constantly had to explain why I was a Red Wings fan. Now, I didn't have to do that anymore.
And to further cement his legacy, this player, once criticized for being too one-dimensional, won the Conn Smyth trophy for the best defensive forward following the 1999-2000 season. A true professional, a consummate teammate, and a complete and selfless hockey player.
Yzerman dealt with his share of injuries throughout his career. Mostly knee injuries that robbed him of some speed and mobility, but none of his heart and courage. He missed substantial games in the mid-90s with injuries and again from 2000-2002. At times, you could see him grimmacing in pain as he skated, half limping, but he soldiered on and led the Wings to the conference finals against their arch-rival Colorado Avalanche.
But the Wings stood with their backs against the wall going back to Colorado, 1 loss from being eliminated. It was then that Yzerman had a little chat with his team.
The thing about Yzerman throughout his career is that you would wonder how he could be an effective captain. His talent was unquestioned. His work ethic, unparalleled. His desire and heart, unmistakable. But he never seemed to get fired up. His interviews were insightful, but filled with emotionless monotone. How could he inspire without getting loud and in his team's face?
Well, whatever he said during that team meeting worked. The Wings came out and won the next two games and then won the Stanley Cup again against the Carolina Hurricanes. This was probably my most rewarding as a Red Wings fan. It was hard-fought. The team was getting older, but dealth with some amazing adversity to fight through and win. And in the post-game interviews, Yzerman's teammates explained how this quiet, humble, and unassuming leader can inspire. They said that Steve doesn't say a lot. So, when he decides to say something, they all listen.
He had a knee surgery in the off-season and missed a ton of games in 2002-03. The Wings had a disappointing playoffs that year and the subsequent one, when Yzerman took a slapshot off the face, putting him out for the remainder of the playoffs with a smashed cheekbone and a torn iris.
He still came back the next year (which was last year) and was one the better Wings players in the second half before they fell again, early in the playoffs.
There were whispers after they were eliminated by the Oilers last year that Stevie would hang them up. He had a 22-year career and had 692 goals and 1,063 assists. He's currently sixth all-time in the NHL in scoring. But most importantly, he has three championships, which signify and epitomizes his commitment to the team before any and all personal accomplishments. And he also won a gold medal for Canada in the 2002 winter Olympics.
Tonight, the Red Wings retired Steve Yzerman's number 19 to the rafters at the Joe Louis Arena and man, do I wish I was there. Just to further illustrate Yzerman's humility, here's a quote from the ceremony:
"My jersey is going to go up there and I hope as you watch it go up, and when you come back and see it, you give yourself a pat on the back because you're a big reason why that jersey is up there," he said. "It doesn't represent what I did, but what we did as an organization."
It's a great occasion, but I'm pretty sad tonight. I've rooted for this guy since I was about ten years old. I was a Red Wings fan since 1983. I don't know what team to root for anymore now that he's retired.
But I'm still rooting for Steve Yzerman. And it's a story like this that shows you why.
In these days, where it seems like many athletes are interested only in bling, an entourage, and their own personal achievements, a sports figure like Yzerman really stands out. There were always more important things to him. Like winning, giving his best effort despite the physical toll, and setting an example for and earning the admiration of teammates and fans alike.
Best of luck in your post-hockey career, 19. And if you ever find yourself in Dim City, give me a yell. I'd love to shake your hand.
posted by Dim at 1/02/2007 08:48:00 PM
12 Comments:
Great post! That's a long-ass career.
Thanks! I actually had something you said to me a long time ago in mind as I was writing it. I posted something a year ago about a Red Wings player who almost died on the ice from a cardiac event and you commented about how hockey players, more than any other athletes, seemed to be more humble and generally nice. I was thinking of that while I was writing this post.
Well done Dim. Knowing your passion for him and the team it must be both sad and rewarding to see it come to a very appropriate conclusion.
Excellent read.
Also..F- to the Vs. network for not showing this in the east.
Awesome post, as always.
Ummm, when I watch hockey I can never find the puck. They go so fast and it just whips around and I can't see it. Wish I could, maybe I'd enjoy watching it a little more.
Hockey needs a strong sense of family. I found that when I was at BU all the player's families were 100% into it and it makes sense because, in most areas, some family member has to get up at 4:30am to get their kid/brother to the peewee practice at the crappiest ice time known to man. As a result, they are pretty good people.
What a fantastic post! You should think of submitting this to a local paper for publication... It's really that good.
I felt the same way about Patrick Ewing growing up.... Never got the rings though.
I was there when they raised his jersey at the Garden. It was funny, I could never afford to go when he played there but I wasn't missing that.
Brought back those memories reading this.
well, well done
I'm back.....great post too....
Nicely done Dim. Stevie Y was definitely one classy player. Funny how you went from Sanderson to Yzerman. Talk about two ends of the spectrum.
How've you been???
Hey Kari,
Thanks for asking! I'm doing OK...a little busy to be posting anything substantial. I'll be back soon!
I hate the Habs. Bunch of worthless shits. How many times did they beat us in the first round?
Yzerman was without a doubt, one of the best players to ever wear the white and red. He definitely should have his number retired.
One thing I feel I must point out is that they had a real team. It wasn't as if it were Gretzky on LA. If Gretzky won the cup, it would have been solo. #19 had Federov, Shanahan, Coffey, Lindstrom as well as great net minder in Osgood.
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