GOOD LUCK FILLING HIS SKATES

THERE WILL NEVER BE ANOTHER LIKE ERIC LINDROS — OR ANOTHER NO. 88 IN PHILADELPHIA

Iin Philadelphia t’s his hands that the players couldn’t stop talking about.

Not that they were soft enough to deke around a defenceman or hard enough to knock out even the most blockheaded of opponents. It was the sheer size of them. They were like a pair of calloused oven mitts with the crushing power of lobster claws.

“His hands are massive,” said Philadelphia Flyers centre Nolan Patrick.

“His forearms are like this, you know?” said Scott Laughton, pushing his arms together to make one. “And then you shake his hand and it’s like, ‘Thanks, my hand’s broken now.’”

To most of today’s NHLers who only know Eric Lindros through old YouTube clips, the former Flyers great was a freak of nature. He didn’t seem real. No one in hockey could be that big. And if they were, there’s no way they could skate or stickhandle or score goals like Lindros did over his 15-year career.

Think about it: he was 6-foot-4 and 240 pounds in his prime. That’s bigger than some NFL linebackers. But it wasn’t just his size or his strength that made him so dominant. He was fast and skilled with the puck, a goal-scorer in an enforcer’s body. And he was mean, the type of player that went after players as though he had an outstanding beef with everyone in an opposing jersey.

“He’s kind of like a Ryan Reaves on steroids with hands like Mitch Marner,” said Laughton with a laugh. “I was younger, but I still remember just how dominant he was. I actually remember the stick he used to use, a black Bauer with three pieces of tape in the middle.”

It was a one-of-a-kind tape job for a one-of-a-kind player. Lindros didn’t just amass 865 points in 760 games, he also racked up 1,398 penalty minutes and fought everyone from Matt Barnaby and Jeff Beukeboom to Scott Stevens and Marty McSorley. It’s not a stretch to suggest that there wasn’t anyone like him when he entered the league in 1992 and that there hasn’t been another like him since he hung up the skates in 2007.

With his No. 88 jersey officially retired by the Flyers on Thursday, there will never be.

“He did it every which way,” said Flyers forward Wayne Simmonds. “He could power through you, stickhandle around you and if you wanted to drop your gloves, he’d drop the gloves and beat the crap out of you. He was a special player and obviously that’s why he’s having his number retired.”

“He was synonymous with the Flyers,” said Maple Leafs forward James van Riemsdyk, who grew up in nearby New Jersey and spent the first three years of his career in Philadelphia. “Just the style of game he played fit in perfectly with the organization and what they were looking for. It was a good fit, I guess.”

Patrick Marleau, who is 38 years old, is one of the few who was also playing during Lindros’ prime years. His favourite memory of the Big E — well, favourite might not be the word — was when Marleau was a rookie with the San Jose Sharks and Lindros went through the roster like a runaway freight train.

“I think in my first year he might have knocked two guys out of our side,” said Marleau. “One with an elbow and one with a fight. It was pretty impressive. I mean, you just knew you were in for a battle each and every night. Especially against him. Not only would he beat you up physically, he would beat you up on the scoreboard, too.”

There are skilled players in today’s NHL who deliver hits and occasionally drop the gloves and fight. But when asked if Alex Ovechkin or Jamie Benn reminds him of how Lindros was as a player, Marleau said sort of, but not really.

“A couple of those guys can do it when they get a little mad,” he said. “But I think what made Eric so good was he was doing it on a nightly basis. He was playing nasty, being mean and scoring goals.”

At the same time, Lindros played the game hard, but clean. He wasn’t a dirty player, although he received his fair share of dirty hits, which ultimately curtailed his career. Now that he’s retired, most players know him as the big man with the big smile and the even bigger handshake.

“He’s just like a big teddy bear,” said Leafs forward Nazem Kadri. “He’s so nice. But when I’d watch highlights, he’d have a little bit of a mean streak to him, too. I think he defined the game and created that position of a big forward.

“He was ultimately the first one to come in and do what he did and unfortunately it had to end quicker than it had to.” nationalpost.com