“Roenick Deal Near” and “Isles Close In on Roenick.”24 In his auto-biography J.R. , Roenick recalled that Milbury carried an offer sheet in his briefcase for weeks. He never sent it, and Roenick was traded to Phoenix on August 16.25 Meanwhile, a potential trade to reacquire goalie Glenn Healy broke down when Milbury insisted that Healy take a pay cut.26 After setting an April agenda to obtain an established goaltender, a steady defenseman, and three elite forwards for the 1996– 97
season, Milbury added only one impact player to the roster by signing Bryan Berard, who was already in the system. In an uninspiring first off- season as general manager, Milbury’s most notable acquisitions were little- known forwards such as right wing Brent Hughes, coming 145
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off a meager five goals the previous year, and center Claude Lapointe, who had only four.27
Milbury tried to spin the failed pursuit of Roenick as proof the Islanders had money to spend. “We had a chance to get in there, in the whirl, and we showed we’re a credible player in the game,” Milbury said, claiming that agents for several NHL free agents had called him over the summer after hearing about his willingness to pay top dollar for Roenick. But the general manager’s ringing phone was little solace to the fan base. In the pages of the former Islander Insider newsletter, redubbed the 7th Man, the Roenick courtship was framed as merely a public relations ploy to generate media coverage in a generally unproductive off- season. “The fans will be angry,” the newsletter predicted. “Some already believe the Roenick affair was concocted by the minority owners and Milbury. The goal: Make it look like they’ll spend money without actually spending any.”28
Milbury’s inability to wrangle star power was another blow to the Islanders brand. Newsday estimated that acquiring Roenick would have added at least one thousand new season- ticket holders.29 Without a marquee name to help them stand out in the competitive New York City market, the Islanders assumed the role of laughingstocks once more. On WFAN one afternoon mischievous host Steve Somers announced on air that the station was about to cut to live coverage of
“a major press conference at the Nassau Coliseum.”30 Hoping for a big signing, fans called the Islanders to inquire about the nature of the event.31 In fact, the team had nothing to announce, and Somers was only setting up another bit at the Islanders’ expense. WFAN’s listeners heard Somers’s producer, Eddie Scozzare, impersonating an Islanders executive at a supposed news conference to announce the signings of no- name free agents the team had picked up days earlier. Scozzare thanked Islanders fans for coming— “both of you”— over the sounds of snoring and crickets.32
By then the Islanders had come to accept Somers’s good- natured barbs, which usually involved puns based on the names of their players or playing songs from the Broadway show Oklahoma! to emphasize the rural heritage of Long Island. His taunts tended to be harmless.
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This time, though, Somers’s promise of a major press conference raised the hopes of Islanders fans just for the sake of cheap laughs, and the influx of phone calls bothered the team’s receptionist. Islanders public relations executive Chris Botta normally viewed Somers as a decent person. “That was the only time,” he said, “where I can say I was genuinely annoyed.” Apparently, so was Milbury. A few weeks later Islanders players gathered for a charity softball game against WFAN employees in Massapequa Park. When Somers approached
the plate the Islanders player on the mound suddenly feigned injury.
In came Milbury to relieve him— and promptly throw a knockdown pitch. Recounting the incident two decades later, Somers recalled being frazzled. “If I didn’t back off and duck, that thing hits me in the head— he threw it hard,” Somers said. Informed that Somers was actually frightened, Botta replied, “Good. I’m glad he was.”33
Despite Milbury’s missteps and Somers’s shtick, the Islanders managed a pretty good off- season in public relations. In June the team kicked off an annual tradition by hosting a free party at Nassau Coliseum during the draft, featuring live television coverage of the selections, appearances by Islanders players past and present, and complimentary popcorn and beverages.34 Despite the team’s last- place finish, three thousand fans showed up, and the normally critical 7th Man newsletter raved, “It was a booming success!”35 Among other attempts to foster goodwill, the Islanders judiciously promoted their past in concert with their future by sending Bryan Berard and Bob Nystrom in tandem to youth hockey clinics in Hauppauge and Syosset.
Berard was also dispatched to autograph signings in Massapequa and Kings Park.36 As part of a new charitable campaign named Isle Make a Difference, the Islanders announced food drives and player visits to cancer patients and abused children.37 The Islanders finally landed some positive media coverage, too. In July Robert Smith, the front man for the postpunk band the Cure, was photographed wearing a fisherman jersey during a concert.38 In September Milbury appeared alongside Bertuzzi, Fichaud, Lachance, and Mick Vukota on Good Morning America, where the players led the local weather forecast.39
The team even signed a three- year deal to broadcast its games on 147
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a popular radio station whose signal stretched from Manhattan to Montauk.40 Although the Islanders would still be stuck wearing the fisherman jerseys on the ice, no rule forced them to use the much-maligned icon in other media. The club took advantage by developing a secondary logo, pulling the all- caps “ISLANDERS” wordmark off the uniform, for use in newspaper ads.41
Still, the Islanders were weighed down by familiar problems. As new NHL arenas went up across the country, Nassau Coliseum remained subpar, with a leaky roof, insufficient luxury boxes, and concessions limited by an outdated ventilation system. “It’s like a grand old lady that needs to have a makeover,” Milbury said.42 On the ice the team also did not have much to offer fans. In his increasingly hostile negotiations with Pálffy and Green, Milbury issued an ultimatum on August 22, telling his players they could either sign the next day or face significantly reduced proposals.43 Once again Milbury’s rhetoric set into motion a war of words. The agents called his bluff and ignored the deadline.
Pálffy threatened to play in Europe. Milbury told the press that Green had demanded to be traded. Green angrily denied it.44 Asked about interest in Green among other teams, Milbury snarkily told a reporter,
“If I said none, it would be insulting. I don’t want to be insulting. It’s not my style.”45 League sources suggested the Islanders were trying to hammer out trades for replacement forwards such as Keith Primeau, Brendan Shanahan, Bryan Smolinski, and Doug Weight, any of whom would have added name recognition and offensive punch.46 But as the preseason dragged deep into September, the team’s two leading scorers remained home, with no new acquisitions to offset their loss.
Then, in the span of two weeks, the evolving Islanders brand got a series of boosts. First, Pálffy agreed to a two- year pact worth $3.1
million, giving the top- line winger just enough time to fly from his native Slovakia to Long Island, get in a few practices, and travel with the team to the regular- season opener in Los Angeles on October 4.47
Although the Islanders lost 1– 0 to the Kings, they kept the score close behind strong goaltending from Fichaud, who made thirty- eight saves.
Derek King said his teammates were out to prove they were more than
“just the same roll- over- and- die Islanders.”48 They sent that message 148
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in their next two games, tying the Sharks in San Jose and the Senators in Ottawa to earn their first two points of the season.49 Then Green came to terms for one year at $1.1 million and headed to Uniondale to take his spot in the lineup for the home opener.50
For Islanders fans, though, the most exciting news had more to do with dollars and cents than sticks and pucks. After five years of the absentee ownership of John Pickett and the day- to- day management of the s
hareholders known as the Gang of Four, news surfaced that the team was on the verge of falling into new hands. The prospective buyer was everything the fan base wanted: he came with deep pockets, New York roots, and a pledge to keep the team on Long Island. The day before the Islanders’ first home game of the season, Newsday ran the story on its front cover. “Texan Ready to Buy Islanders,” the headline blared. “His Promise: The Puck Stays Here.”51 Inside the newspaper Pálffy summed up the reaction of the players and the fans with two words: “Holy schneikes!”52
Nobody knew much about John Spano. The first reports had this much down about the man willing to spend $185 million on the Islanders and their cable television rights: Spano was only thirty- two years old, grew up in Manhattan, owned a house on Long Island’s East End, and spent most of his time in Dallas, where he had season tickets for the Stars. He was the president of a firm that leased aircraft and heavy equipment, and he owned companies that sold beverages and cook-ware. He was married with no children, and friends called him shy and never flashy. Most important for the fans, Spano said his immediate priorities were to build a new arena for the Islanders and improve the team. The promises came with a red flag: Spano had previously pursued two other NHL teams, the Stars and the Florida Panthers, only to have the deals fall through. Reporters also had trouble confirming his net worth. As one newspaper columnist presciently warned, “You always have to worry about the devil you don’t know.”53
The questions about Spano’s inability to acquire the Panthers and the Stars did not matter to a long- suffering fan base that craved a savior.
Besides, the Panthers absolved Spano, saying his prospective purchase 149
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fizzled because their owner decided not to sell the team, and the owner of the Pittsburgh Penguins said, “I would certainly vouch for John Spano’s character.” Islanders management had already announced a verbal agreement to sell to Spano, pending a rubber stamp by the NHL Board of Governors in December. Spano had the backing of NHL
commissioner Gary Bettman, and the league released a statement saying it would start the approval process “as quickly as possible.”
The New York Times reported that the deal could be finalized as soon as the end of October. Newsday heralded the “dawning of a new era”
on Long Island.54
When Nassau Coliseum opened its doors the next night for the home opener against the Flyers, Spano’s emergence as the presumed new owner of the Islanders added electricity to the sellout crowd. In another sign that the team was turning a page, the fisherman jerseys were not invited. The Islanders would still wear their home and away uniforms with the fisherman logo throughout the season, but on this night they debuted what was known as a “third jersey,” which NHL rules allowed them to use for a limited number of games. The third jerseys paired the beloved original logo with the ocean waves and lighthouse patches that fans said were their favorite elements of the fisherman uniform.55
Fans settled into their seats for a video that commemorated the team’s silver anniversary season with clips from the glory years, followed by the returns of former stars Ed Westfall, John Tonelli, and Clark Gillies to the Coliseum ice. Fireworks soared to the catwalks lining the roof of the arena. Roman candles illuminated the glass when the 1996– 97 Islanders were introduced, skating out to the roar of 16,297
throats. Spano watched intently from the owner’s box.56 The players were charged up. Marty McInnis and Derek King each scored twice.
Derek Armstrong added another. Fichaud came within 30.9 seconds of a shutout. The 5– 1 final score gave the Islanders their first win of the season. “This is like a dream come true,” Spano said.57
After a crushing season in 1995– 96, the Islanders no longer expected their fan base to embrace the fisherman jerseys, nor did they put much effort into promoting the outgoing logo anymore. The jerseys would be history in seven months anyway, or maybe eight if the team somehow 150
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squeaked into the playoffs. In fact, the organization was so eager to move past the fisherman as its symbol and renew the association with the classic crest that team vice president Al Arbour offered a frank assessment when a reporter asked about the two logos. “You don’t see countries changing their flags because it’s a good marketing tool,”
Arbour steamed. “I don’t like the idea that teams, and that includes us, change their jerseys because some marketing guys say it will sell better. I like tradition.”58
Nevertheless, the Islanders were not giving up entirely on the fisherman brand. The team picked a telling slogan for 1996– 97: “A Season to Remember.” For a franchise with little to show for itself but its legacy, some success in 1996– 97 could at least improve public memory about the rebrand and prevent the fisherman- era Islanders from going down as one of the worst sports- branding failures of all time. With a 1- 1- 2
record and Spano in the owner’s box, the franchise had reason to hope.
A few days later the team released an anniversary promotional film titled Never Say Die: The Story of the New York Islanders, which made bold comparisons between Milbury’s crew and the teams that won four straight Stanley Cups. “It’s just a matter of bringing that kind of dynasty back to the nineties now,” Todd Bertuzzi said in the tape. “We got the same kind of mix, different names though on the back, and no reason why we can’t do the same thing that they did in the eighties.”59
Privately, the players were optimistic but knew better than to expect a championship anytime soon. Amid the postgame revelry of the home opener, a veteran Islanders player pulled aside the nineteen- year- old Berard, high off his first NHL victory. The player spoke words of caution: “Don’t think they’re all like this here.”60
Five days after the home opener, the Islanders returned to Nassau Coliseum to face Keith Primeau, Paul Coffey, and the Hartford Whalers. Now they were without their classic jerseys, the fanfare, and the sellout crowd that rocked the home opener. Milbury warned his players about a letdown. “I think that maybe that kind of got us thinking about it,” Berard told a reporter.61
Before a much quieter crowd of 8,019, the Islanders dragged through the game. They did not have a shot on their first four power plays and 151
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went scoreless in seven tries with the man advantage. They registered only four shots in the second period. Scott Lachance and Darius Kasparaitis were caught behind the net for a Whalers goal. Tommy Salo allowed a softie. The Whalers, playing without number- one goaltender Sean Burke, managed a 3– 1 victory.62
The Times said the Islanders skated “as if they had hangovers.”
Newsday riffed that they “played Jonah” to the Whalers. The Daily News called them “flatter than Kansas.”63
Of more concern to the players was Milbury’s assessment. “It’s always disappointing as a coach when you try to implement something, or at least make a point on something, and it falls on deaf ears,”
he told the beat reporters. “Maybe that’s because I didn’t deliver the point properly. Having not listened to it this morning, they’ll probably have to hear it from me again tomorrow.”64
Milbury left the postgame press conference with an ominous guarantee: “I’ll find a way. I promise, I’ll find a way.”65
Milbury was still ticked the next day at practice. As the players finished an hour- long skate at Nassau Coliseum, he went onto the ice carrying a hardbound edition of Webster’s New World Dictionary, its pages marked with yellow slips of paper to note words of importance. He defined them one by one, words like commitment, compete, desperation, fear, hustle, intensity, pain, ready, sacrifice, communication, consistency, discipline, focus, insecure, motivation, react, resilient, support, and team.
After Milbury finished each definition, the players skated the length of the ice. This went on for twenty- five tiring minutes.
“They can’t just be empty words,” Milbury said. “I just wanted to make sure I was v
ery clear on every word, on each meaning of every word. These are things that I believe in.”66
The players left the ice sweaty and exhausted. A reporter overheard Mick Vukota saying “uncle” as he skated off. “I remember thinking, How many letters are there in the alphabet?” Vukota said.67
The players did not publicly complain about the unconventional practice. “We needed a little butt- kicking,” Bryan McCabe said. Added Scott Lachance, “We have to understand we’re not good enough, ever, to lay back.” Derek King even compared Milbury’s tactics to Al Arbour 152
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drills when players were forced to skate without pucks. “It’s never fun getting skated, but I think it’s an eye- opener for everybody,” he said.
“The words he did bring up, we’ve talked about them before. When we lose that edge, forget about some of those words, it’s Mike’s job to bring them back to us.”
Privately, however, the practice bred more resentment for Milbury.
Söderström, who had played only twenty- six seconds in the Whalers game in relief of Salo, was not inspired by the coach’s reading. “On A, he said, ‘Attitude.’ And then he screamed, ‘You have no fucking attitude,’” Söderström remembered. “And then we needed to skate back and forth to the other side. And then after one time he comes to B. And it was something on B. And then he comes to C, D, E. I don’t know if he went all the way, all the letters, but I remember that. And then I was joking about, ‘Maybe he should have said on A, “Asshole,”
that he was an asshole.’”68
Milbury’s lesson only weakened the confidence of his young players. After one win and two ties in their first four games, the Islanders slumped, going 0- 4- 2 in their next six. Again, the relationship between the coach and his team was strained. In Detroit Milbury benched Bertuzzi, the latest player in his doghouse, even though Bertuzzi’s in- laws drove three hours from Ontario to see him play. “I’m furious,” Bertuzzi told Newsday.69 After another loss against Tampa Bay, Milbury threatened to trade some players and said they were driving him to drink— “about three vodkas,” to be precise.70 Milbury also renewed his rampage versus the referees, earning another fine when he colorfully criticized officiating that “makes me just want to puke.”71 The fan base had a similar reaction to the Islanders’ stomach- turning performance, resulting in a 1- 5- 4 record at the end of the month. During a loss on Halloween to the Maple Leafs, which marked the return of public enemy Kirk Muller, Islanders fans switched from serenading the forward with shouts of “We hate Muller!” to booing the home team to chanting, “Help us, Spano!”72 At the next game the Nassau Coliseum sound system piped in the Midnight Oil song “Blue Sky Mining,” with the chorus, “Who’s gonna save me?”73
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