Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

Another long trip down memory lane

One game does not a season make…but last night was a nice way to start.

(Yes, that’s it. No whooping, no gloating. I don’t get super-emotional, which some people take as a sign that I am not a true fan. It isn’t that, it’s just that I have learned to pace myself. I’ll be more animated in, say, the second round of the playoffs.)

I got a wee bit emotional last night when the 30th season pre-game ceremony honored four past Caps: Yvon Labre (I wrote about him last week…the picture-with-my-hero thing), Rod Langway, Dale Hunter, and Calle Johansson. They brought them out to center ice one at a time, while the names of all the players over the years scrolled across the telescreen. Yvon represented the 1970’s, Rod the 80’s, and Dale the 90’s. I was speculating that current captain Steve Konowalchuk would be skating out to join them, but seeing Calle was a nice surprise. I notice no one is wearing his number 6 this year, so I hope that means his jersey will be retired with the other three. (I’d like to see Mike Gartner’s 11 retired too, for that matter.)

When I saw Timo Blomqvist’s name flash by on the screen, I said “If they didn’t bring him in tonight, I’m going home.” I was just being a smart aleck, but I truly was a big Timo Blomqvist fan.

(Cue the wavy flashback effect.)

Thinking about it, I realize that those mid-80’s Bryan Murray years were my favorite. Some of that is probably situational…I was in school, no responsibilities, so I could make hockey my number one priority. I went to every home game. They were my good old days.

I loved the team we had then, and the gritty, defensive hockey they played. It wasn’t high-scoring and it wasn’t always pretty, at least not a Guy Lafleur-speeding-gracefully-down-the-ice kind of pretty, or a Wayne Gretzky-setting-up-an-impossible-play kinda pretty. It was mucking-and-grinding pretty. They called those guys “plumbers.” I still have a t-shirt from one of those years with the slogan “Hard work gets it done.”

Rod Langway and Mike Gartner are in the Hall of Fame; if you’re a hockey fan you know Scott Stevens. Last night I was boring Victor to death on the Metro ride home with a recitation of the other players I remember so fondly (besides Timo Blomqvist): Doug Jarvis (the Iron Man). Dave Christian (of the USA hockey Christians). Bengt Gustaffson. Gaetan Duchesne (I remember playing Edmonton and watching him stick to the Great One like glue.) Dave Shand. Bob Gould. Alan Haworth. Pat Riggin. Al Jensen.

These are all really happy memories until I think about the playoffs. Last time I saw Dave Shand he was behind the bench in a coat and tie, and he turned his back to the ice in the final second of the loss to the Islanders that ended the playoffs and his time in the NHL.

Back then I used to get very emotional.

(Every once in a while Victor catches me mis-remembering something. I’ll have a playoff series in the wrong season, or think two players were on a line together when in reality they weren’t even on the team at the same time. So I guess I’m saying, take my reminiscing with a grain of salt. I did leave a few brain cells behind in the Showcase Pub & Eatery, and in the intervening years I have had other priorities replace hockey at the top. Then there’s that false memory syndrome so common in those who have suffered great emotional trauma.)

So (back to the present) a 6-1 win is a good thing, and it was a good game. There's a fine group of players in Capitals uniforms, and maybe one day I will impress (or bore) the kids with stories of Peter Bondra and Olie Kolzig. And I think it's situational...I'm an adult now, I need to worry about work and a list of other responsibilities. So as good as it may get, these just aren't my good old days.

Posted by Nic at October 10, 2003 02:20 PM | TrackBack