On Thursday night in Denver, an abomination will occur. The Avalanche and Carolina Hurricanes, thinking they’re funny or clever or cool but whiffing beyond a statcast-able distance, will don Quebec Nordiques and Hartford Whalers jerseys. They’re billing it as some sort of Adams Division redux or homage. It is a pox upon the National Hockey League.
Let us be clear. The Avalanche are not the Nordiques. The Canes are not the Whalers. Oh, they may claim to carry the heritage and history with them, but everyone knows the truth. Pick up sticks and move to another city, and the team is another thing completely. Joe Sakic and Peter Forsberg may have played for both, but that was 30 years ago. Every Whalers fan who actually attended a game in the mall is dead. That includes me (though I wasn’t a Whalers fan).
These people know nothing of the Adams Division. Did they ever see the ice at Boston Garden covered in fog? Did they see Ulf Samulesson’s picture in Boston post offices after he wrecked Cam Neely’s career (ok, Ulf played in the Patrick but just go with this)? Know what a cold night in The Aud felt like? Of course not. YOU HAVE NOT EARNED THIS.
Do we really think if the Avs were still in Quebec City that Montreal would have ever traded Patrick Roy to them, the trade that transformed the earliest edition of the Avs? Of course not. Canadiens fans would have torn down the old Forum into rubble brick by brick if such a travesty had occurred. Because the Avs are a completely different entity. Because the Avs aren’t the Nordiques. Never have been, never will be.
Could Carolina, Raleigh, have anything less to do with Hartford, Connecticut? Of course it couldn’t. Brodie Bruce didn’t utter his famous monologue about the Carolina Hurricanes. The Canes have never, will never, have the cache and hipster cred to be the subject of such lore. They left that behind when decamping south. It doesn’t matter to anyone when the Canes beat Vancouver. It matters to everyone now when the Whalers did. Which will never happen again. Brodie pisses on the Canes, and with good reason. No one dreams of rewriting history to get the Canes a Cup. Fuck, we’re trying to erase the one they did get as it is!
Wearing these jerseys again is a stab at the heart of those left in Quebec City and Hartford (if they weren’t all dead). It only serves as a reminder of how they were discarded, and then watched those teams achieve greater heights in new cities than they ever did in their original homes. How fans in Denver and Raleigh got to experience the delirium of Stanley Cup Finals and championships without ever having to sit through torturous months of watching Gerald Diduck try and corral a puck along the boards like a hippo trying to play the piano. These people never yelled, “Tugnut!”
It’s dancing on a grave. Here’s one more glimpse at what these spurned fans don’t have anymore. It’s the bully who stole your lunch money then eating his ill-gotten booty right in front of you with that idiot grin he always had on his face. It’s the same one Gary Bettman gets whenever he remembers he got NHL hockey out of Quebec and Hartford. One last indignity on a wound, which is already festering on top of living in Connecticut in the first place (I’m told QC is quite lovely, so at least they have that going for them. And thanks to climate change, it probably won’t even be all that cold for much longer).
The Avs are the Avs, not the Nordiques. The Canes are the Canes, not The Whale. They left those behind when they high tailed out of town for greener pastures. This was the trade they made, that everyone should know, as they left those histories and colors and logos where they were. The Ravens are not the Browns. The Jets are not the Thrashers The Nationals are not the Expos. The A’s…well, the A’s aren’t really anything at this point.
It is merely cosplay. Why not have them dress up as the Golden Seals and Houston Aeros? It would make just about as much sense. Let Hartford and QC hold onto something that can be just theirs. They took their players and their possible glory. No one needs some brewery owner in Denver wearing a Nordiques jersey in his goddamn Equinox.
Breakfasts come and go, Rene. But The Whale…have nothing to do with Raleigh.
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