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We Want Fish Sticks

Page 6

by Nicholas Hirshon


  Islanders fans grew frustrated. The lack of thorough media coverage translated into little accountability for the stewards of a historic franchise that celebrated its fourth straight championship only a decade earlier. With the Internet in its infancy and social media still many years away, fans had few means to connect with each other and vent.

  Troubled by the organization’s decline, a season- ticket holder named Art Feeney put out a newsletter named Islander Insider, which promised to “fill a void” left by insufficient coverage by the daily newspapers and sports radio. Feeney, a pharmaceutical salesman from Seaford, Long Island, had the pedigree and the connections to cover the Islanders in a constructive way. He was the brother of sportswriter Charley Feeney, who was about to be inducted into the writers’ wing of the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum to celebrate his forty years of coverage for the Long Island Star Journal, New York Journal American, and Pittsburgh Post- Gazette. Given his brother’s career, Feeney approached the newsletter with a fan’s enthusiasm and a journalist’s commitment to fairness. He became friendly with an alternate governor for the Islanders, who fed him information from behind the scenes. In the inaugural issue he vowed that Islander Insider would not run puff pieces about “Pierre Turgeon’s favorite restaurant or Lorne Henning’s top ten 31

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  movie list,” nor did it exist only to bash ownership. As evidence Feeney ran a front- page editorial suggesting that Islanders management was ripping off the fans, but he also defended some trades that didn’t work out and invited a minority owner to respond in the next issue.42

  Feeney was purposefully toeing the line on ownership. He grew up rooting for the Brooklyn Dodgers in the 1940s and 1950s, and he was crushed when the team became disillusioned with its aging ballpark, Ebbets Field, and uprooted for Los Angeles in 1957. He feared that the Islanders’ situation mirrored the Dodgers’. “As time went by, I started thinking about this new arena and all of this stuff and all the bad owners they had had even up to that point,” he said. “I said, ‘I’m gonna do everything I can not to let this team move.’” Feeney may have been so worried about potentially losing the Islanders, or so anxious for a return to glory, that he built up the middling roster beyond its potential at times. Islander Insider billed the unproven Lindros as a “possible franchise player” and “future captain.” McLennan, who was having a pedestrian season, was described as an “NHL starter— may be more than that.” Prospect Bryan McCabe, who had yet to play an NHL game, would be a “top two- way defenseman, next season.” Inexperienced center Chris Marinucci “may be the real thing,” whatever that meant.43

  Feeney’s fears about the Islanders’ relocation spoke to the importance of the team branding around Long Island, an assurance the team would stay. The Islanders followed their humdrum February with a hideous March. A disgruntled Henning benched star forwards Steve Thomas and Pierre Turgeon, harming the coach’s relationships with two players who had been the core of the Islanders brand for several seasons.44 Maloney kept squabbling with Thomas over a new contract.45

  The team lost ten of thirteen games. They scored more than three goals in a game only twice in that span. They lost to Ottawa, the worst team in the league.46 They blew a 3– 0 lead in Boston en route to their fifth straight defeat, their longest losing streak of a season spiraling away from them. Even the young players who were supposed to represent the optimism behind the new brand identity were dejected. Marty McInnis said he hoped the Boston game was the worst he would ever play. McLennan called the loss “just the most disappointing game 32

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  ever in my career.”47 With his team dropping to twenty- fourth in the twenty- six- team league and six points out of the final playoff spot, Maloney fielded offers from rival general managers for the players that the Islanders had been trying to market as the promise of the fisherman era.48

  Islander Insider provided a forum for fans to let off steam with its

  “Voices from the Stands” column. With five weeks to go in the regular season, the Nassau Coliseum faithful begged for excitement. “They commit the worst sin any sports team can. They’re boring!” said a man from Great Neck. Added another from Garden City, “You have to give people a reason to come. Give us some hope.” For a fan from Massapequa Park, the supposedly new- look Islanders had a familiar feel. “At least tell us how you intend to get better,” he vented. “We get the same garbage every year.”49

  Despite the downward spiral the new Islanders brand had a chance for positive publicity when the Rangers visited on March 23. A New York Times reporter arranged to follow Nyisles around the sold- out Nassau Coliseum. The assignment figured to be lively: many Islanders fans were wary of the mascot, and Rangers fans would be out in large numbers, looking for any opportunity to tweak their archrivals.

  Islanders- Rangers matchups were known for good- natured ribbing and back- and- forth chanting, but also for expletives, intoxication, and brawls in the stands. Before the game Di Fiore told the reporter, “I love a challenge.” He had a plan to deal with the divided allegiances. “With the Ranger fans, to ease up, I would kid around and go, ‘Dude, I’m a Ranger fan,’” Di Fiore said. “And they would be like, ‘Yo, he’s a Ranger fan!’ So they would leave me alone.” Still, not every fan was kind. As the game proceeded, someone dumped liquid on Nyisles’s helmet.

  When Di Fiore started dancing, a fan shouted that he was blocking his view of the game. When he ventured into a group of children, a ten-year- old boy told the reporter, “I’d like to assassinate him. I think he’s stupid. I think he looks horrible, and the Rangers are going to win.”50

  Pat Calabria assured the reporter that Nyisles usually enjoyed a better reception. “You’re really not getting an opportunity to see him at his best.”51

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  In truth the Islanders had come to expect negative reactions. All mascots endure vitriol from time to time. Some fans forget there’s a person inside the costume, or they’re too young to know or too drunk to care, and they take liberties. It figures that fans attracted to a violent sport might become physical themselves on occasion, but the fury directed toward Nyisles seemed like more than run- of- the- mill foolishness. Every taunt screamed and every beer dumped onto his enormous helmet was an indication that perhaps the fan base was not open to the team’s new brand identity. “He was not terribly popular,”

  Calabria said. “The fans were just angry, and they wanted to criticize almost anything.”52

  The Islanders’ poor play probably would have made a scapegoat out of any mascot. At the Rangers game Nyisles tried to entertain the fans while the Rangers swarmed the Islanders’ net, outshooting the home team fourteen to five in the first period and fifteen to four in the second.53 Nyisles had already put up with two hours of verbal and physical abuse by the time the Islanders finally scored halfway through the third period. If the Times reporter had wanted to observe the perils of the job, she must have been satisfied. Islanders employee Rich Walker, who escorted Nyisles around the arena, witnessed all that could go wrong with the Islanders mascot. “I’d make sure he wasn’t tripping over little kids that might be directly in front of him that he couldn’t see,” Walker said. “And I’d also be his protection if any fans started to get rowdy.” Walker saw fans jab Nyisles with their fingers, poke him with their fists, and, every so often, try to knock his gigantic head off.54

  One night, a man sitting by the glass motioned for Di Fiore to come to his seat, saying he wanted the mascot’s autograph. The request was unusual, since most of Nyisles’s admirers were children, but Di Fiore dutifully descended the steps and approached the fan. “The next thing you know, he just punched me in the face,” said Di Fiore, who went flying backward over the empty seats in the row behind him.

  “The funny thing was he hurt his hand because he didn’t realize the mascot’s head was hard plastic.” The Islanders were so concerned about viol
ent fans that Di Fiore was told to stay in his dressing room 34

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  if the team was down heading into the third. If Nyisles couldn’t even survive sixty minutes of action, the Islanders had to wonder how the rest of the new brand identity would be received. They got their first indication when rumblings surfaced about a new logo. Fans didn’t know what the new crest was, but they didn’t care. A thousand people signed a petition asking the team not to change its look.55

  The Islanders entered April with dim hopes of a playoff berth. They had fallen to 10- 18- 4, going eight games under .500 for the first time.

  They were allowing breakaway goals and soft goals, shorthanded goals and power- play goals. Henning futilely argued with referees.

  Söderström was pulled in three straight starts, giving up nine goals on twenty- one shots.56 “There are one hundred ways to lose,” Ray Ferraro said, “and we seem to find every one of them.”57

  Saddled with injuries and underachievers, the young Islanders could at least look to the upcoming schedule for inspiration. On April 1 the organization planned to retire number 23 to honor Bob Nystrom, who had served the Islanders in every capacity from player to assistant coach to radio color analyst.58 Nystrom, who scored 513 points in nine hundred games, was held up as the quintessential no- quit player, exactly the sort of role model that the young, despondent Islanders needed in 1995. “He really typified what that club was all about: hard work, determination, the feeling that you’re never out of it,” said former Islanders coach Al Arbour. To some observers, raising a banner in tribute of a former player did not jibe with the Islanders’ new brand identity. “Events like these can be tricky for the Islanders,” Newsday pointed out. “The team might look like it is living in the past because it has done little right for about a decade.”59 Still, if anyone could lift the Islanders out of their funk, perhaps it would be Nystrom and his teammates from the Stanley Cup dynasty triumphantly returning to the Nassau Coliseum ice.

  During the banner raising the sellout crowd had more reason to cheer than the home team had given them for months. Former Islanders goaltender Billy Smith, whose number was already in the rafters, came onto the ice. So did Clark Gillies, John Tonelli, and Ken Morrow, all cogs in the championship teams. But their presence was not enough 35

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  to appease the disgruntled fan base. During a pause in the ceremony one fan screamed, “Get rid of Maloney!” The Islanders’ play mag-nified the anger. The Buffalo Sabres easily skated past the Islanders, 5– 1, dropping them to 1- 9- 1 in their last eleven games. Between the second and third periods, fans unfurled a banner reading, “Maloney Must Go.” The pregame applause turned to boos. Henning accused his players of quitting. “We were trying to key off Bobby, the hard work, the teamwork,” the coach said. “After the second goal, I thought they went into the tank.”60

  With the trade deadline looming the Islanders were seven points out of the final playoff spot. So many rival scouts began showing up at Nassau Coliseum that Henning compared them to “vultures” hovering over the Islanders’ carcass, ready to pick apart the remains of a season gone awry.61 Any trades the Islanders considered would have little immediate impact, but they were heading into a critical off- season that would include the unveiling of new jerseys to complete the fisherman brand identity introduced by Nyisles. The trade deadline presented an opportunity to unload players with high salaries and the stain of the playoff series against the Rangers in exchange for players who could become part of the fisherman era. In two days Maloney pulled off two moves that shook up the Islanders’ roster. In the first deal the Islanders shipped first- line center Pierre Turgeon and enigmatic defenseman Vladimir Malakhov to Montreal. In return the Islanders received the Canadiens’ point- a- game captain, Kirk Muller, and top-four defenseman Mathieu Schneider, who would replace Malakhov as the power- play quarterback.62 The next day Maloney sent two draft picks and three- time thirty- goal scorer Benoit Hogue to the Toronto Maple Leafs in exchange for top goaltending prospect Éric Fichaud.63

  The trades cleared $2 million in annual payroll off the Islanders’ books, freeing up Maloney to re- sign some of the twelve Islanders entering their option year.64

  By trading Turgeon the Islanders were giving up on a sweet- skating superstar who led the team with fifty- eight goals and seventy- four assists in the run to the Eastern Conference Final in 1993. Turgeon’s 132 points were the third- best in team history and fifth in the NHL that 36

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  season, within spitting distance of Mario Lemieux. After the season the Islanders rewarded Turgeon with a four- year, $11 million contract, but they privately worried that he wasn’t the same player he had been only a few months prior. In the 1993 playoffs, Turgeon was the victim of one of the most notorious checks in hockey history, when he was celebrating a goal and blindsided into the boards by an opponent, separating his shoulder. The play, which drew the longest suspension in NHL history at the time, left Turgeon tentative and gun- shy on the ice.65 In the 1994– 95 season the forward who once scored more than a point and a half per game, drawing oohs and aahs in Nassau Coliseum, was pointless in fourteen of the Islanders’ first thirty-three games.

  He went as many as six games in a row without scoring.66 “He rarely shows emotion and was not playing with passion,” Newsday wrote.

  Meanwhile, the locker room had been turning against Malakhov. “He made it perfectly clear he didn’t want to play here anymore,” Ferraro said.67 The time was right for a split.

  Muller and Schneider figured to provide the energy and leadership the Islanders desperately needed. As the team underwent a rebrand that had become a rebuild, they were counting on two players who led Montreal to the Stanley Cup in 1993 to mentor promising young talent like Lindros and Pálffy. While Newsday derided Turgeon as soft and impassive, the newspaper said that Muller came to the Islanders with toughness and “Mark Messier– style fire in his belly.” Before joining the Canadiens he had captained the Devils from 1987 to 1991, so he had experience leading a team in the New York market. He made the All- Star Game six times and scored thirty goals five times. He had missed only 14 of a possible 837 games due to injuries. He won face-offs, killed penalties, hustled to pucks, and worked the boards. Along with Islanders captain Pat Flatley, Muller could be a veteran presence to take pressure off Lindros during his development and build him into the team’s next leader.68

  Meanwhile, the Islanders still needed someone to stop the puck. With McLennan and Söderström struggling in net, Fichaud was brought in as the goaltender of the future. The Leafs selected him with the sixteenth overall pick in the 1994 draft, and he had twenty- one wins and a 3.44

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  goals- against average in the competitive Quebec Major Junior Hockey League. Several months earlier Maloney had oversold Lindros as the goal scorer of the future and better than his superstar brother. He made similar claims about Fichaud, who had yet to play an NHL game.

  “I think the guy we got is a franchise player,” Maloney said. “He’s a clone of Felix Potvin. He was drafted sixteenth overall last year. He’s a premier, top- level goaltender. The only way we’re going to win here is if we get a Billy Smitty– type goalie in the net.” Though Fichaud had promise, it was dubious to compare any untested nineteen- year- old to Potvin, an all- star who had thirty- four wins the previous season, or Smith, a Hall of Famer who backstopped the Islanders to 304 victories and four Cups. Maloney, perhaps thinking that his job security was tied to the success of Lindros and Fichaud, was putting pressure on his newfound goaltender of the future to develop quickly. “I think he could play next year but who knows?” Maloney said. “Felix Potvin jumped into the league at twenty- one.”69

  The fans ate it up. The front page of Islander Insider put a twist on the chants that the general manager’s critics shouted at Nassau Coliseum, running the headline “Maloney Must Stay!!�
�� The story raved,

  “Islander fans have more reason to be optimistic now, than at any time in the last decade!” In an open letter to the general manager, the newsletter enthusiastically endorsed the dumping of two finesse players for the hard- checking Muller and Schneider. “We will be calling on all Islander fans to give you the benefit of the doubt and watch this team, a team that more and more is a product of your draft choices and trades, develop over the next two to three years,” the letter read.

  “We are looking forward to the return of an exciting and competitive team to Long Island.”70

  When the Islanders- Canadiens trade was completed, Montreal was only hours away from skating at home against Quebec. Turgeon and Malakhov screeched out of the Nassau Coliseum parking lot and flew to Canada.71 Their impact was immediate: Malakhov notched two assists against the Nordiques, and Turgeon scored the tying goal and assisted on the winner.72 Still, one game did not override the disappointing seasons that Turgeon and Malakhov were having on Long Island. The 38

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  media chalked up their stellar debuts to beginners’ luck. Writing in the New York Post, columnist Jay Greenberg said he would be surprised if Turgeon played well in the long run. “Your best player has to want to be your best player,” he wrote. “If he does not, you cannot win.”73

  Now it was the Islanders’ turn to show off their acquisitions, and they had a perfect forum. The day after the trade the Islanders had a Friday- night game against the Rangers at Madison Square Garden. “I really think this deal’s going to start a new trend here— that we demand performance out of all our players,” Maloney said. “This in my mind is the start of an attitude adjustment. The players we’ve acquired will set a standard. Consequently, we’ll play harder as a team.”74

  On the day of the Rangers game Mathieu Schneider arrived for the morning skate with a smile. Like Turgeon and Malakhov, the twenty-five- year- old Schneider was looking for a new start. He was eager to leave Montreal, where he feuded with star Canadiens goaltender Patrick Roy, and he was excited about making his Islanders debut in Manhattan, where he was born and lived for thirteen years. Schneider also thought the Islanders had some talented players. “I knew the Islanders were a struggling team, but even just a couple of years before we had played them [in 1993], the year we won the Cup in Montreal.

 

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