Hockey Orphan: Elise from 18,568 Reasons Why on the Minnesota Wild

(Click on the logo above for the master post)

(Elise from 18,568 Reasons Why provided this great Hockey Orphan entry. Make sure to follow her Wild coverage and Microsoft Paint wizardry for all your Wild needs. Thanks, Elise!)

So you want to be a Wild fan, eh? Oh, you just happened to be reading this blog and were informed that you had amnesia and are a hockey orphan for the next five minutes? Ok then, we can work with that too.

The Wild is based out of Minnesota, lovingly dubbed The State of Hockey, and is, to put it bluntly, a second try for pro hockey in the state. We used to have the North Stars until they ditched in 1993 for better weather down south in Texas. The team changed Minnesota to Dallas and dropped the “North” and *poof* you have the current Dallas Stars.

Minnesota hockey fans spent the next 7 years mourning, lamenting, and soaking up as much hockey as possible at the junior, high school, and college levels. Until 2000, when the Wild were born…

Why to avoid the Wild – let’s start with the bad

The Trap
Let’s just get this out of the way first, shall we? It’s the first thing that comes to mind when non-Wild fans think of this team. Many times, these thoughts are accompanied with unpleasant ones, usually along the theme of sleep, boredom, or numbness. But it’s really not that bad. Yes, the Wild play the trap system and yes, that can be boring. They do know how to play real hockey though, too. Sometimes.

Management
The Wild has had basically the same management since their inception in 2000. Jacques Lemaire is the coach, Doug Risebrough is the GM. The ownership recently changed, but new owner Craig Leipold (yes, the ex-Preds owner) has said he has no intention of shaking up anything managerial-wise. Which could be bad for the team’s future. Lemaire will most likely retire this summer, but Risebrough hasn’t said anything about going anywhere anytime soon. And the Wild are stuck in a rut. They never get the big free agents, they never make big trade deadline moves, and they’ve failed again and again to re-sign key players and fill obvious needs. The team has seemed to be stagnant the past seasons, stuck in a state of constant mediocrity. Because of this, the Wild either miss the playoffs or are bumped in the first round, and then get alright but not super prospects instead of top tier draft picks.

Marian Gaborik
Gaborik is a great talent, there’s no denying that, but he brings tons of baggage along with him. There are the days he doesn’t want to try. The seemingly never ending contract disputes. The groin explosions. The complaints about not being given enough offensive freedom. Not thinking before opening his mouth and making comments to the media. It can quickly turn into a massive headache for fans, especially when he’s not playing well or injured.

Team Appearance
The official names of the Wild’s colors just sound Minnesotan: Iron Range Red, Forest Green, Minnesota Wheat, and Harvest Gold. But basically the main two colors are red and green and the Wild end up looking like Christmas sometimes. There’s also the mascot…what type of animal is the logo? what does it represent? what does the name “Wild” even really mean? what sort of animal is Nordy the mascot? why does Nordy the mascot have a mullet and weird forehead markings?

Why to love the Wild – I recommend this route

Marian Gaborik
He can be a pain, but he’s super speedy, has a lethal wrist shot, and is a superb talent as an elite NHL sniper. Just watching him (when he’s trying) is fun and he can change the game if he feels like it.

The Developing Core
The Wild have some great young players who are the face of the franchise – captain and center Mikko Koivu, forwards Pierre-Marc Bouchard and James Sheppard, and defensemen Brent Burns and Nick Schultz. All are young, all are talented, and all are still developing. Koivu is the can-do-anything forward and MVP of the team. He’s emerged recently and this team is now his. Bouchard and Sheppard are still developing their games, especially Shep, but both have shown flashes of their skills and just need to become more consistent. Burns could have been named to the All-Star team last year and is one of the nicest guys off the ice, always interacting with fans and kids. Schultz is the stay-at-home, always there, always dependable defenseman. This core should be there for the Wild for years to come and will hopefully lead the team to future successes.

The Old Guys
There are the young guys, there is the core, there’s the superstar, but the old guys on the Wild who add character and grit to the team. Owen Nolan and Andrew Brunette both give so much heart to this team that fans never want to see them retire. Brunette was a Wild favorite until the team screwed up and didn’t re-sign him, quickly learning their mistake when he played for the Colorado Avalanche. Brunette, the NHL’s reigning Iron Man for most of this season, returned to the Wild this summer and is currently playing with either a partially or fully torn ACL requiring surgery. Nolan has played through many injuries, including a knee injury, a broken toe, the flu, and sometimes multiple at once. The Wild were going through a terrible, terrible month in December when Nolan was out with an injury and the trainers and coaches didn’t want to let him play. But he walked into Lemaire’s office and demanded to be put back in the lineup; the Wild were instantly better. These two have set examples for younger players and contributed more than expected, taking the responsibility of being the heart and soul of the team.

The Fans and Atmosphere
The Greatest Hockey Fans in the World and the Team of 18,000 are just two of the nicknames given to Wild fans. The Xcel Energy Center (one of the nicest hockey facilities) has sold out every single pre-season, regular season, and post-season game in team history, packing 18,568 people in for every game and upwards of 19,000 for playoff games. The team knows the fans are some of the best and appreciates them – the team will give away 19 signed sticks, a couple signed jerseys, all the jerseys off of players backs, mugs, magnets, and more in Fan Celebration Week alone. The X and downtown St. Paul during playoff time is one of my favorite places to be.

I hope you enjoyed that little journey through the Minnesota Wild. I certainly did. If you’re ever in Minnesota during hockey season, I recommend that you take in a hockey game – pro, college, high school, squirts, whatever – and see what it’s like. It always makes for a fun time and a great experience.

Quick hits/what you might have missed

• So, the Boston Bruins signed Tim Thomas to a 2 or 3 year deal with a $5 million per year contract. Expect a salary cap outlook on them soon, but my overall review: "thumbs up." The cap hit isn't too big and the Bruins are allowed to buy him out if necessary. Can't ask for much more than that.

• It stuns me that people are so hypercritical of the Montreal Canadiens (although, I know, I KNOW that hockey is a bigger deal in Canada) when the New York Rangers missing the playoffs would be WAY more detrimental. Bloggers point out all the UFAs the Habs have while simultaneously mocking them for character issues - isn't it a good thing that Bob Gainey could give that team a makeover, then? Sometimes I just hate the Internet.

Lots of posts this week, so here's a list of some of the more significant ones in case you missed them:

The hockey in Japan post by Chris Kontos, which is now a bit of a solemn read since it ended up being the second to last game in the history of the Seibu Prince Rabbits. Bummer.

So far, we've compared the Edmonton Oilers to the San Fran 49ers, the Montreal Canadiens to the Boston Celtics and the Detroit Red Wings to the Los Angeles Lakers. The question is: are you still enjoying these comparisons?

Apparently, the world has moved on from midgets and monkeys. We'll have to file that post in the "Things that only made us laugh" category with The Post Americanizing Weird NHL Names, the Post With an Elaborate Jesus Joke and a few others.

Keep your eyes open for more Hockey Orphan entries in the next few days. Check the master post for all we've featured on CLS so far.

• We're a little starved for feedback here in Cycleland. Send us an e-mail or leave a comment if there's a feature you cannot stand, couldn't live without or whatever. You'd be surprised how one pointed comment can alter the course of a blog. Seriously, give our junk mail some company (jamestobrien@hotmail.com).

Let me say this again: Enjoy it

In Bill Simmons' recent mailbag, he discussed the NBA's great 1-2-3 MVP race between Kobe Bryant, Lebron James and Dwayne Wade. I couldn't help but think of hockey's 1-2-3 MVP race of Ovechkin, Crosby and Malkin. Say what you want about those guys, they deliver. Don't forget that you're witnessing one of the best generations of NHL talent in a long, long time. Sometimes the Internet babble can make you forget what's really important. We're able to watch something great.

The Heatley-Thornton-Lecavalier generation is/was fun and all, but make no mistake about it. We're living in the next golden era.

Hockey Orphan: The Couch Tarts on the San Jose Sharks

(Click on Sleek's logo above for all the Hockey Orphan entries)

So here you are, a lonely former sports fan with no recollection of your past life. Your friends are trying to stir your memories and lure you back into the fold, but you aren't sure. There are other teams, other fan cultures to explore. Maybe you live someplace snowy and cold and yearn for sunshine. Sunshine, but not smog. Deserts aren't really your thing and humidity is just the worst in your book. You X out the two southern California teams, ditch the desert dogs and go nova on the Stars. You settle you sights on the usually sunny, occasionally foggy, reaches of the south bay area. You pack your things and make the long (or short) trek to the south bay area in search of a new, teal life.

Magically, you find yourself walking the Teal Mile. It's just before game time and the place is an explosion of teal and Thornton. You make a mental note to pick a more original jersey and follow the masses to your new home. The Tank rises like a beacon of light next to the Guadalupe River.* You enter the sacred building and walk in to find a writhing mass of fans and concession stands, Una Mas nachos and tasteless puck like burgers. You ascend to the upper bowl and find your place amongst kings. Here, in the upper reaches of the Tank is where the reputation of the loud and boisterous Tank is born.

Smelling the clean, fresh scent of “new fan”, a nice person takes you under their wing and leads you to your seat. How fortunate! You're in 208! The perfect section to be introduced to the rituals of the Tank. Your mysterious guide hands you a pamphlet. In it you find a list of tips and important information for all Sharks fans.

1st (and foremost): Thou-est must not-ith lean-ith forward! NO LEANING!!

Denizens of the upper levels will raise quite a raucous if you lean forward during the game. We don't pay to see the back of your head Mr. or Ms. New fan!

2nd: all must boo Pronger when he touch-ith the puck and must continually boo until it leaves his grasp.

3rd: If thou-est playing the Stars, thou must boo the word “star” in the National Anthem. Delicious sacrilege is at home here.

4th: If thou shall be sitting in 209 thou must arrive on time lest thou be subject to merciless taunts for the rest of the game. Also, thou shall be warned that 209 will yell “YOU SUCK” at the opposing team before the start of the anthem(s) and thou shalt be required to participate. 209 is the leader of the upper bowl and its traditions. Thou must follow the lead of 209.

5th: If at any time during intermission there is competition between the upper and lower bowl, thou must vote for the upper bowl. When the lower bowl wins a jersey, thou must complain about how they never give prizes to the “real fans” and that the lower bowl “can afford to buy their own jerseys.”

6th: Thou must hate-ith the following teams: Anaheim, Detroit, Dallas.

Thou may also hate-ith any of the other remaining teams as appropriate.

7th: Thou shalt worry endlessly when facing the Coyotes.

You look up as cheers erupt from the crowd. The team streams out of the smoking, glowing head of a Shark. How's that for an entrance? You can look but you won't find a better one anywhere in the NHL.

Suddenly it sounds like folks are booing? What's this? Ah, they're actually shouting “Cheeeeeeeechooooooooooooooooooooooooo” They take their train metaphors seriously here.

As you discover through dutiful observation as the period ticks by, Sharks fans are an emotional lot. They ride the ebbs and flows of the game as if they were a roller coaster. They are a passionate bunch, far better educated in the ways of hockey than most realize or give them credit for.

Cheers arise when bitter rivals are shown to have lost on the “out of town score board.” These fans know who is where in the standings, and who stands in their team's way of greatness.

You feel overwhelmed and look back down at your pamphlet and read the following words of wisdom:

17,496. Get used to that number. It's a sell out and you'll hear it more often than not at games.

Yes, even here in sunny San Jose, fans stream in from all points of the bay to watch their beloved Sharkies. The Sharks have quite the following and a great deal of support from their fans both in and around the South Bay.

The buzzer sounds indicating your first period has come to a close. More time to consult your fandom pamphlet!

It's not all rainbows and butterflies in the land of teal. Nay, there are some downsides to being a Sharks fan.

Despite the large and passionate fan base the Sharks have, the team remains one of the best kept sports secrets in the Bay Area. The lack of local coverage is astounding.

Second round taunts are common throughout the season. It doesn't matter that the Sharks did, in fact, advance to the Conference Finals only to be defeated at the hands of the Flames in 2004. It's all about those 3 consecutive second round eliminations.

Those three early bows have also left Sharks fans with a bit of a complex. They whine relentlessly if their team doesn't win all 82 games. Come playoff time, it's all woe is me and “we'll never make it out of the second round.”, unless of course it's, “this is our year!” and “nothing can stop us now!”

Sharks fans have a lot of pride in their team, and often take out their frustrations over not being taken seriously on the player/current position in the standings/Detroit/Ron Wilson.**

You will have to become used to hearing the following things:

not a real hockey market, it never snows there (ignore that the mountains surrounding the South Bay indicate otherwise), Californians don't know jack about hockey, they shouldn't have a team, they shouldn't have three teams, all the fans are transplanted Canadians, the Tanks never sells out, no one there plays hockey, “disappearing Joe”, no heart...

It doesn't matter that these fact aren't true, you will hear them.

As the second period begins, you settle in. You feel welcomed in this new teal family and despite the downfalls, you're going to stick it out. This seems like a good place. A season or two under your belt will only make it better.

*This is the Bay Area. It's really more like a stream with mood swings.

** Only valid in the years 2003 through 2008.

(Thanks a bunch to Gray and the gang at Couch Tarts. Make sure to follow them and their great coverage of the San Jose Sharks.)

Twinsies: If the Edmonton Oilers were an NFL team, they would be:

=

The Edmonton Oilers are DEAD RINGERS for the San Francisco 49ers. Here's why:

1. Four championship main dynasty + one championship without their most famous player

Could there by more similar players (in all the ways that matter) than Joe Montana and Wayne Gretzky? Throw out Gretzky's jaw-dropping stats and they are two peas in a pod. Both were such Aryan golden boys that their leagues couldn't wait to plaster their mugs on the TV. They each have ludicrously hot wives. In general, their lives are so much better than ours. The assholes.

The two teams both dominated the Eighties (winning four titles in a short amount of time) and then won one more title after they reached their peaks.

By this analogy, Mark Messier would have to be Steve Young.

Under the shadow of Montana, Steve Young faced a ton of pressure. So when his 49ers beat the Cowboys and then absolutely pummeled the San Diego Chargers, Young and his teammates actually pantomimed "getting the monkey off his back." Sure, it was pretty lame, but it said a lot.

Messier saw a similar glory year in which he won a Hart trophy and managed to win a Cup without Gretzky. Of course, Messier-Young isn't a perfect analogy marriage.

• For one thing, Young has an enviable bushy mane while Messier suffers from Wade Boggs syndrome.
• From what we know, Messier is not a Mormon.
• If you shine a light in Messier's eyes, he probably won't get a headache. (Boooo concussion humor)
  

(We guess that Jerry Rice would match up pretty well with Jari Kurri.)

2. Commerce over cartoons

It's refreshing to see a sports team that isn't named after some angry animal. Both the Edmonton Oilers and San Fran 49ers remind you of the cold commerce that allowed their areas to teem with life. When you study the two teams' logos, it's almost like taking a trip in a Dolarian back to each region's past (and they don't even have to resort to racial slurs!).

3. Innovative offense

Any shmuck with a stick could dream to hit the 100-point plateau in the goal crazed Gretzky era. How many fat, moustachioed NFL head coaches get their (expensive) meal tickets from Bill Walsh's West Coast offense? Each dynasty was loaded with absurd offensive talent and prompted runs to their league's Hall of Fames.

4. Enormous falls from grace

There were some pre-lockout years in which the Edmonton Oilers were looking like they were going the way of the Nordiques. Tough times have hit the Niners recently; you know things are bad when you've got the No. 1 pick.

Even the two teams "meh-ish" playoff runs were pretty similar: the Oilers featured Ryan Smyth and (aside from the one Pronger-fueled Cup run) were usually lucky to make the post-season. The Terrell Owens-Jeff Garcia era for San Fran rarely saw those two jackholes sniffing the second round.

What you feared is true: the Prince Rabbits are no more

Pour one out for the Seibu Prince Rabbits: they officially folded (hat tip: Greatest Hockey Legends). It's certainly sad that instead of being an "introduction" to Japanese hockey, Chris Kontos' great fly-on-the-wall piece may instead be more like a solemn goodbye.

We're just going to hold out hope that this is a cruel April Fool's Day joke.

Undoubtedly the greatest hypothetical radio show in the history of man and ape

So, I'm reading "The Ticket: Full Disclosure," a great little book about the great Dallas sports radio station, and I come across a stunning passage:

"Through all the uncertainty, however, Sturm was ecstatic. He could have shared a studio with a monkey and seven midgets and still been incredibly happy."

What - what - what? And still been incredibly happy? This absurd notion made me consider a hypothetical show called "James, a monkey and seven midgets." (clever title, eh?)

Ratings would be huge. Laughs would be even bigger. Not only would this show resurrect radio, but somehow, also add new life to the newspaper industry. There would be hard hitting "short guy on the wall" journalism, thoughtful critiques of the film "George of the Jungle" and people slipping on banana peels. Howard Stern would beg us to stop broadcasting. Oprah Winfrey would request that we change our time slot, as competing with midgets exposes her inner meanness. Hugh Downs would speak on our behalf at a Lifetime Achievement presentation and then pass away. His last words: "Finally. Peace."

The only tense moment: when poo gets flung. The monkey would express his disgust at my display, accusing me of discriminating his species based on "unfair, (blanking) stereotypes." What would then ensue would be a stare down intense enough to be on the cover of a Wrestlemania DVD. And right before I'd get my face ripped off hypothetically, the seven midgets would begin to dance. They would dance their midget dance while my simian friend and I make amends. And it would be good.

But, for the most part, I cannot really fathom the idea that I wouldn't enjoy running a radio show with a monkey and a bunch of midgets. Everyone's different, I guess.