’Canes have earned the right to wear Whalers gear
Justin Williams stood there at his locker after his team had been swept in four games from the NHL Eastern Conference Finals by the Boston Bruins. The Carolina Hurricanes captain stood there and, fighting his emotions, he talked about the pain of sudden defeat, the awesomeness of a team and a community rallying together, the video proof he spoke with as much dignity as any captain in franchise history.
Williams is called Mr. Game 7 for a reason. His seven goals in decisive matches ties the most in NHL history, his 15 points is the most. He won two Stanley Cups with the LA Kings, one with the Hurricanes in 2006, and as a 37-year-free agent he stood there Thursday night with an uncertain future. Amid the disappointment and uncertainty, he still made it a point to say he tips his cap to the Bruins.
The Carolina captain was wearing a Hartford Whalers cap.
It never looked better. It also helped change my mind about something I had been particularly vitriolic.
After a Game 2 trouncing in Boston, where he allowed Brad Marchand to get under his skin and cost his team, Williams said something poignant, fairly funny and a little gross: “Sometimes you gotta eat a poop sandwich. It doesn’t taste good and you have to chew on it for a little bit.”
After reconsidering one matter, I’m ready to eat my poop sandwich.
The Hurricanes should wear Whalers gear on and off the ice whenever they want.
I know. I know. I wrote this in February 2018 when new owner
Tom Dundon first talked about wearing Whalers jerseys in game:
“That tail belongs to Hartford. That tale belongs to Connecticut. You bought your red from Pete Karmanos. You bought your black from the traitor. You bought your swirly logo, the one derisively called the Toilet Bowl logo, the one The Hockey News picked as the worst in the NHL in 2014. Wear it as a badge of honor, Mr. Dundon. Wear it proudly. Just don’t wear the Whalers jerseys.”
You know what the previous paragraph means to a Rangers fan in Connecticut? Diddly.
To a Bruins fan in Connecticut, fired up beyond belief for their team’s return to the Stanley Cup Finals? Diddly.
I can now see I initially was too overwrought about the jerseys. No matter the paraphernalia the Hurricanes peddle, the Brass Bonanza they play or the two games last season they wore the green and iconic logo, the tail and the song still belong to Hartford’s memories. And nobody can buy or steal the memories.
And this is where I was also off base. The Whalers aren’t Connecticut’s tale. The Whalers are Central Connecticut’s tale. They aren’t even the Hartford-New Haven television market’s tale, and that’s important in that folks point to the market as the largest in the nation without a major league franchise.
If the Whalers were to survive the NHL in the Nineties they would have needed to spread the interest, the corporate investment, the fan base throughout the state. They didn’t. Connecticut could be a major league state. Hartford could not maintain as a major league city. Absolutely, it sucked that Ponytail Pete bought the franchise with an immediate eye on moving it. Absolutely, it sucked that John Rowland, governor and future felon, cared infinitely more about the NFL than the NHL. And Gary Bettman didn’t lift a pinky to help Hartford. The unholy trio never will find relief in this space. If the Whalers had been saved and got to the Stanley Cup Finals in 2002 and 2006 like they did in Raleigh, yes, the state groundswell would have enormous. They weren’t saved.
Karmanos was right on one count. We are squeezed and fragmented by 13 different pro franchises in New York and Boston, all competing for our attention and money. As a sports state we are a Yugoslavia. In hockey, a sport without the interest of NFL and MLB, we are so splintered it’s ridiculous.
Bruins, Rangers, Islanders, Whalers fans who maintain an allegiance to the Hurricanes. Our state continues to churn out NHL stars and there are allegiances to their teams. Others quit on the NHL when the Whalers left. There’s two AHL affiliates and four Division I college teams and you get the picture.
We are only 110 miles wide and about half that tall, yet it might as well be 1,000 miles from Stonington to Greenwich.
After 35 years with the Hartford Courant and with the eight state Hearst papers, with experience of covering the entire state, I see this. Don’t like it. I’ve finally come to accept it.
Connecticut can’t agree on anything.
We can’t agree on legalized gambling.
We can’t agree on the future of the XL Center. And without a new building, the chances of the NHL returning is entirely delusional. It’s probably delusional anyway.
We are the little state of 169 petty fiefdoms.
We are the only place where you can walk across the street and Tom Brady can go from GOAT to unforgiveable cheater.
We are the only place where the Yankees Suck and Red Sox Suck on the same street.
You can find any number of Bruins fans in Connecticut who absolutely love Marchand wears black and gold. And you can find any number of hockey fans here who hate his guts.
All in our tiny state.
So it’s nonsense I would ever try to speak for all of them.
That’s why a recent tweet by Boston radio personality Tony Massarotti so amused me: “If the Bruins don’t win the Cup this year, I’m inclined to root for Carolina just so they can give Hartford and all of Connecticut the finger.”
Karmanos gave the finger to Hartford in 1997. The Hurricanes gave the last finger it needed to Hartford by winning the Stanley Cup in 2006. News must get to 98.5 The Sports Hub by pony express. Besides, half of Connecticut is Boston sports fans.
It’s easy to pick on the little guy and, I got to admit, that’s why I developed a softer spot for the Hurricanes this season. Karmanos is no longer in the picture. Seemingly lost, the team played its butt off after Dec. 30. The Triangle rallied around the team. The fans starting piling in.
Don Cherry hated the Hurricanes’ post-game choreographed celebrations, calling them a “bunch of jerks.” Hurricanes fans, to their credit, turned it into a good-natured rallying cry. Cherry upped the ante, calling the increased crowds “frontrunners.” As someone who has covered 800 games in a smaller NHL American city, I’d argue Cherry should be applauding the increased interest in the game he loves.
From the BBQ tailgates on, there will always be some who will try to mock the Carolina fan base as 14,000 Gomer Pyles. Fred Toettcher of The Sports Hub’s Toucher & Rich hung up on Raleigh News & Observer beat writer Chip Alexander saying, “I can’t listen to a guy with a Southern accent talk about hockey.” It was rude, unprofessional and entirely expected from one of the Boston radio bullies.
News flash: You don’t need to say “chowda” or “eh” to understand a team’s power play. I do understand big city arrogance. I covered a team where Rangers fans used to chant, “You play in a shopping mall!” at the XL Center. Only the chant was way funnier than hanging up on a pro’s pro like Alexander.
Look if real Whalers fans — not the thousands who only wear merchandise because it’s cool — want to rage on that the Hurricanes shouldn’t ever wear the green, it’s their prerogative. I respect it. I respect your memories. I’m just saying I changed my mind. Sure, it’s a cash grab. In this world, what isn’t? And who knows if the Hurricanes will continue to wear the green in games? Yet in the end, it’s their franchise and as long as they treat the franchise history with the respect it deserves, it’s OK with me. Justin Williams certainly did.
Now get off my lawn and let me eat my poop sandwich.