Hart(ford)less Victory

Originally posted on ianshane.com 20 June 2006

For those who are about to say “get over it”, screw you.

The people of Hartford have every right to be pissed about the Carolina Hurricanes winning the Stanley Cup—especially after NBC showed Peter Karmanos celebrating in the owner's box. It's been nine years since the Whalers left the Nutmeg State and headed to North Carolina.

North Carolina. Good hockey country.

Let me put it to you in non-hockey terms. You've been dating this great girl for a long time. She then dumps you for a loser that's chronically unemployed, who doesn’t have a clean shirt in his wardrobe, and does nothing but sit on the couch and drink beer. Then, she wins the lottery and marries the son of a bitch.

Being a Hartford Whalers fan, I learned that the personality of the team you follow mirrors your personality. It may sound a little silly, but it's true. And for the younger brother of guy whose shadow was difficult to get out of, I could relate to a team that played just a few miles away from Boston and New York. The Whale were hidden behind the glamorous Rangers, Islanders, and Bruins. Throughout high school and college, I felt The Whalers' pain of not being good enough.

When Karmanos announced the team was moving, I felt betrayed, even though I didn't live in Hartford. I’ve never even been there. It was worse for me. My brother in arms were being altered. My team was the group of misfits that played in an undersized arena, always overlooked, and struggling to get by (how I felt working radio in Bloomington, Indiana, sending out airchecks and résumés almost daily, and eating mustard sandwiches). All of a sudden, the Whale were moving to North Carolina and becoming something else.

But, we’ve already covered this.

As soon as they got there, they instantly changed. They were no longer the kid living among giants, but they were the lost boys in a place they had no business being and weren't even welcomed.

They played in front of 9,000 fans per game their first season in Carolina, and I was convinced that they would come crawling back home within three years.

Served them right.

Eventually they made the playoffs, and the people of Raleigh started to warm up to the ‘Canes. The team made the Stanley Cup finals, and they got hammered by the Red Wings in five games. The menace of the Hurricanes seemed to subside as they missed the playoffs the next year and the lockout cancelled the season after that.

But the Hurricanes made the Finals for the second time in four playoff seasons. They came back and bested the Edmonton Oilers in a thrilling Game 7. I felt the twinge of “should have” as the final goal clinched the game for Carolina. I quietly turned off the streaming radio feed and shut off my computer.

Hartford is trying to get another team, and they just might get one. The Pittsburgh Penguins are for sale, and they will more than likely relocate. A Hartford business man is going to make a bid, and press the state to build a new stadium.

But for me, it won't be the same. Even if the Pens move to Hartford, and Karmanos does the honorable thing (which would be a first) and gives the name back to the city, they won't be my Whalers. They'd just be the Penguins in blue, silver, and green. I may root for them in the East, for sentiment sake, but I can't become a fan.

It's just not who I am anymore.