We Want Fish Sticks

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We Want Fish Sticks Page 21

by Nicholas Hirshon


  Spano was not around to answer, not yet, and the Islanders spent the 153

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  first few weeks of November mired in mediocrity, winning three games, losing three, and tying two. The team crumbled. Angry that Berard was straying too often into the offensive zone, Milbury punished the rookie defenseman by using him at left wing in one game.74 In practice the players were shooting pucks at each other when Bertuzzi shot high at Dan Plante’s head, leading Plante to ram Bertuzzi into the boards and wrestle him until the men were separated by their teammates.75

  Through eighteen games the Islanders were averaging only two and a half goals. The only promising development involved their new third jerseys. At the time, the team was 2- 8- 4 in the fisherman jerseys but undefeated when wearing the original logo, going 2- 0- 2.76 Although the sample size was small, it was enough to fuel speculation among the Islanders about the curse of the fisherman logo. “In general, hockey players are superstitious,” Pilon said, although he added that he never blamed the losses on the fisherman. “It has nothing to do with the logo.

  It had everything to do with the team, probably who are we playing, right? That’s just superstitious, and all athletes are like that.”77

  On November 17 Milbury finally pulled off a trade for some offense, albeit at a high price. The general manager sent hard- hitting defenseman Darius Kasparaitis and a prospect to Pittsburgh in exchange for holdout center Bryan Smolinski. At age twenty- four Smolinski had already played four NHL seasons and developed a reputation for a quick release, accurate shot, and crafty playmaking. His twenty- four goals and sixty- four points the previous season would have placed him third on the Islanders behind only Pálffy and Green. Smolinski said the right things to reporters, expressing hope that he would find his

  “calling” by leaving the Penguins, where he was stuck behind Mario Lemieux and Ron Francis on the third line, to what figured to be a more prominent role with the young Islanders.78 On the other hand, Pittsburgh was coming off a trip to the conference finals, while the Islanders were in last place. “I knew they did not have a chance to win,” Smolinski said.79

  The deal was bittersweet. Losing Kasparaitis, a former fifth- overall pick who manned the Islanders’ blue line for five seasons, diluted a defensive corps that had been the team’s lone strength. Kasparaitis 154

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  was only twenty- four, the same as Smolinski, and his up- tempo, feisty play made him a fan favorite. For a team trying to rehab its brand, shipping out one of its most popular and longest- tenured players was a dicey proposition. Milbury admitted the front office was divided on whether to make the trade, but he said the need for offense forced him to pull the trigger. Another factor, as with so many of Milbury’s moves, was Smolinski’s upbringing with the Bruins when Milbury was their assistant general manager. No matter the reason, the trade caught Kasparaitis off guard. Milbury once singled out Kasparaitis as a “fierce competitor,” and, only a day before the trade, he assured the defenseman that he would remain an Islander as long as Milbury was general manager.80 Kasparaitis was packing for the Islanders’

  upcoming West Coast trip when he received a surprise phone call from Milbury informing him of the deal. “I was like, ‘What do you mean, I got traded? You told me that I was here until you’re here.’ So basically, that was kind of a shock to me.”81

  After ending his relationship with Kasparaitis poorly, Milbury got off to a bad start with Smolinski. Since Smolinski was holding out in Pittsburgh, Milbury had to sign him as part of the trade, and the sides promptly agreed to a one- year deal believed to be about $1 million.82

  When Smolinski joined the team, Milbury made clear that the salary he just dished out, high by Islanders standards, came with high expectations. Vukota remembered a stunned Smolinski walking into the Islanders’ locker room for the first time after a conversation with Milbury. “He goes, ‘Can you believe that guy? He just told me, “Don’t embarrass me. I gave you a lot of money.”’ So here’s a ten- year veteran. He’s never been spoken to that way. You’re taught as a player to separate the business from the game.” After being blindsided by Milbury, Smolinski was also taken aback when he saw his fisherman jersey for the first time. “It was a joke,” he said. “You come into the room and you see this logo, and you’re kind of chuckling. You try and grow a beard to see who can look like the fisherman throughout the year. You have to make light of it.”83

  The good- natured Smolinski quickly overcame any shock over his new uniform. In his debut as an Islander he contributed the tying goal 155

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  to help the Islanders earn a point against the Mighty Ducks.84 With a proven scorer in the fold, the team sprang to life. In Smolinski’s first eleven games with his new club, the Islanders had their most impressive tear of the fisherman era, securing six victories and two ties to raise their record to 10- 11- 8 by December 12.85 The rejuvenated offense scored thirty- five goals behind the first line of King, Green, and Pálffy and the second line of Niklas Andersson, Smolinski, and Marty McInnis, remaining potent even after Milbury juggled the players around.86 Tommy Salo was sensational in net, earning his first two career shutouts and the best third- period save percentage in the league.87 Five- foot- nine Claude Lapointe, hustling on the third line, delivered a series of bone- crunching hits, including one with such force that a pane of glass in the right corner exploded.88 The stretch culminated with an 8– 2 drubbing of the Coyotes and a delicious win over the Rangers at Madison Square Garden. When former Islanders star Clark Gillies returned to Nassau Coliseum to watch his retired number 9 raised to the rafters, he shared his enthusiasm with the energetic crowd. “This team is playing great hockey,” Gillies said,

  “and getting better and better every day.”89

  It was good enough to catapult the Islanders, dismissed over the summer as cellar dwellers, into an early- season playoff spot.

  As the Islanders ascended the standings, their fans were just as excited about the pending sale of the franchise. On November 26 John Spano resurfaced at a news conference at Nassau Coliseum to formally announce his agreement to buy a 90 percent interest in the team. Spano fortified his status as a fan favorite by describing how he would pump money into the team and the arena without meddling with Milbury’s hockey decisions. “The goal of this new ownership group will be to build the next generation of champions,” Spano said. “Every decision we make will be based on one question: What is best for hockey?”90 In a photo op for the gaggle of reporters, Spano stood alongside Nassau County executive Thomas Gulotta, the area’s highest- ranking official, while they held up matching number- 96 jerseys to commemorate the year of the purchase. Some observers took Gulotta’s presence as 156

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  a hopeful sign that the county might chip in public funding to help renovate or replace the Coliseum. Then, in what seemed like a peace offering, Gulotta handed Spano a county flag.91

  The fan base was overjoyed. The 7th Man gleefully suggested that the Islanders should adopt “Happy Days Are Here Again” as their theme song and suggested another Cup was in the offing with an all-caps, front- page headline that pleaded, “HEY! STANLEY!!! YOU CAN

  COME HOME!” Long Islanders inundated Spano with letters and calls of support. On Thanksgiving Eve Spano took out full- page newspaper ads expressing gratitude to the fans. “I will do everything I can,”

  Spano wrote, “to return a winner to you.”92 Spano also met with the leaders of the Save the Islanders Coalition, who voluntarily changed the group’s name to Support the Islanders Coalition now that Spano was assuming control.93 “It relieves a lot of pressure on the fans,” said one of the group’s cofounders, Art Feeney. “The fans are happy.”94

  Hopes were raised so high that almost any outcome shy of a second dynasty would be disappointing.

  In hindsight the rush to crown Spano as the savior of the franchise— by fans, the press, and the outgoing ownership�
� blinded them to red flags. The Islanders unveiled Spano as their new owner before the sale was even approved by the NHL Board of Governors, a step that was initially scheduled for December but then suspiciously postponed until January.95 After Spano was formally introduced by the team, the press felt free to jump the gun, too. The front page of Newsday blared, “Done Deals.” The Daily News headline read, “New Era Begins for Isles.” In the New York Times, columnist Dave Anderson included Spano among the sports figures he wanted to thank on Thanksgiving, for buying the Islanders and promising to keep them on Long Island. The press ignored questions about Spano’s net worth, wrongly assuming that he must have been thoroughly vetted by the Islanders and the NHL. Newsday greeted him as “rich Uncle Pennybags on the Monopoly board.” The Times assured its readers that Spano was paying $165 million for the team and added, with no evidence, “and there’s more where that came from.” In one common contradiction, Newsday blamed the team’s descent on outgoing owner John Pickett 157

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  running the team from Florida, labeling him absentee, but explained away the impact of Spano holding the reins from even farther away in Dallas. Reacting to the media coverage, the Islanders’ Rich Pilon said, “It can’t be any worse than Pickett.”96

  In just a few months’ time Spano supplanted Milbury as the most high- profile Islander, appearing on more front pages and television seg-ments than the ESPN analyst- turned- coach and any of the players. He was also the most popular. Fans chanted his name and waved “Spano for President” signs, contributing to a newfound electric atmosphere at the Coliseum. The Islanders took notice. Even before Spano took control the team tried to translate the enthusiasm over his coming into ticket sales. The day after Spano’s introductory news conference, the Islanders ran an ad in Newsday that prodded fans to “celebrate our new ownership with great seats starting at $15.” Another spot in December alluded to the passion that Spano had generated in the arena: “You can feel it! There’s a new energy and excitement at Nassau Coliseum.” Curiously, one ad took the unusual step of naming the prospective owner. On December 18 the team promoted an upcoming game beneath a bold pull quote from Spano: “JOIN US FOR A NIGHT

  TO REMEMBER.” The ad consisted of an eleven- sentence statement in which Spano thanked fans for their warm welcome and said he felt

  “extremely privileged to be part of a team so rich in tradition.”97

  Alongside Spano’s statement in the Newsday ad was the image of an unnamed Islanders player in full stride. It was Žiggy Pálffy, the team’s leading scorer. Looking back, the Islanders’ unwillingness to promote Pálffy as the face of the franchise is puzzling. During the two seasons when the Islanders wore the fisherman jerseys, Pálffy was the best player on the roster, potting ninety- one goals to rank him among the league leaders. The team’s second- best scorer, Travis Green, had forty- eight, many of them assisted by Pálffy. “Žiggy was a budding superstar in the league,” said Green, who had the two most productive seasons of his career playing with Pálffy. “Highly skilled. Great hockey sense. Could see the ice very well. Had a bullet of a shot.”98 In the 1995– 96 season the dynamic right wing scored 19 percent of the Islanders’ goals, the second- highest percentage among the NHL’s top 158

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  scorers. As 1996 turned into 1997, Pálffy had 23 percent of his team’s tallies.99 Not only could he score, but he also possessed the qualities that teams usually look for when choosing players to market. The happy- go- lucky Pálffy was young and handsome, with an infectious smile and a flowing mullet that left strands of brown hair peeking out from the back of his helmet. Some spectators could be seen wearing Pálffy wigs at Nassau Coliseum.100 Most important from a marketing perspective, Pálffy was exciting to watch. “Žiggy Pálffy was always fun to see,” said goalie Tommy Söderström. “He could do whatever he wanted with the puck.”101

  The Islanders recognized Pálffy’s talent. He was named the Islander of the Year for the 1995– 96 season, and a glowing article in the Blade applauded him for working to overcome his perceived defensive lia-bilities and taking private English classes to better communicate with coaches and teammates. In summing up his breakout season, the article noted, “Very few would have expected his star to rise so quickly.”

  Despite acknowledging his ascension, the Islanders decided against marketing their best player. Although Milbury had designated Pálffy an alternate captain, management was concerned about putting too much pressure on him to become a leader. “He was not the type of player who can put a team on their back and lead a team deep into the playoffs,”

  said Brett Pickett, the son of the Islanders owner. “It just wasn’t who he was.” Pálffy also went through fits of indifference on the ice that troubled his coaches more than they should have. “Some nights, if he decided that he wasn’t gonna play to his potential, there’s nothing you could do about it,” said assistant coach Guy Charron. “You had to deal with it, but it was frustrating for a coach because you knew how good this kid could be.” The concerns about Pálffy played out in the newspapers. In the twenty- three- month period when the fisherman served as the Islanders’ primary logo, from June 1995 through April 1997, the team published nearly one hundred ads in Newsday revolving around photographs of players such as Darius Kasparaitis, Brett Lindros, and Mathieu Schneider. Pálffy was the centerpiece just once, in October 1996, even though he outscored and outlasted Kasparaitis, Lindros, and Schneider on Long Island.102

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  By not pushing Pálffy in advertisements, the Islanders missed an opportunity to associate the fisherman jerseys with one of the most exciting players in professional hockey. With almost zero promotion, Pálffy had become the talk of the NHL. The Islanders’ opponents usually sought him as an intermission guest on their telecasts. An NHL

  International broadcast crew insisted on speaking with him. ESPN

  anchorman Keith Olbermann obsessed over him on SportsCenter.103

  Although the Islanders rarely employed Pálffy as a promotional tool, the NHL did. Rinkside, the league’s magazine for season- ticket holders, dedicated five pages to a glowing profile of Pálffy titled “Enchanting Isle,” complete with a full- page action photograph showing Pálffy following through on a slap shot. The mainstream media gave him ink, too. In December 1996 the New York Times singled out Pálffy for a rare profile on an Islanders player, calling him the “most promising talent” on a team “with little identity or recent success.”104

  The praise did not impact the Islanders’ marketing approach. As Pálffy kept racking up points, the Islanders continued to promote themselves as John Spano’s team. It proved to be a catastrophic decision.

  In the second half of December, Pálffy and the Islanders followed their rise in the standings with a plunge. After the Bryan Smolinski trade lifted the team to a 6- 3- 2 run and into playoff position, the Islanders dropped twelve of their next sixteen games, including a six- game losing streak. The old signs of organizational strife reappeared. When Todd Bertuzzi was demoted to the minors on December 12 the young forward was so angry that he demanded a trade before backing down.105 After a loss an impatient Milbury threatened more changes. “I can assure you, people will pay a price,” he told Newsday. “Not everybody. I can’t send them all down. I can’t trade them all. But that kind of loss cannot be tolerated.”106 As it turned out Milbury’s next target was not on the ice but in the front office. The day after Christmas, he fired assistant general manager Darcy Regier, who had been in the organization since 1978 but clashed with Milbury over how he criticized his players in the media.107 With Regier out of the picture, Milbury kept ridiculing the roster that he himself had assembled, telling reporters that Berard 160

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  “has you reaching for the Pepto Bismol on occasion,” Bertuzzi was

  “immature emotionally,” and Smolinski’s pace was “not always what it should be.”108 By the All- Star
Break in January, the Islanders were 13- 22- 9. A shoulder strain kept their franchise player, Žiggy Pálffy, from performing in the sport’s greatest showcase.109

  As the Islanders sank in the standings, the season- long celebration of the team’s twenty- fifth anniversary inevitably encouraged discussion about how far the franchise had fallen. As a tribute to their history the Islanders chronicled the dynasty years not only in the Never Say Die videotape but also in a book titled Pride and Passion. In addition, the team scheduled a series of anniversary promotions culminating during Presidents’ Day weekend with the return of the championship players on February 15 and the display of the Stanley Cup on February 17.110 Each autograph signing by a player from the 1980s team and nostalgia piece in the Blade was gobbled up by fans eager to relive the glory years. Unfortunately, that also meant the current Islanders were often compared against their predecessors. When the Islanders rebranded, management talked about unburdening a roster of young, fragile players on a rebuilding team from the impractical expectations associated with the classic logo and encouraging them to forge their own identity. Now the franchise itself was encouraging comparisons between the players of the early 1980s and the mid- 1990s. The last chapter of Pride and Passion tasked the current Islanders management with finding “their Butch Gorings, Wayne Merricks, and Duane Sutters.” Fichaud was likened to “another cocky netminder by the name of Bill Smith.”111 In one interview Bertuzzi expressed frustration with his frequent comparisons to Clark Gillies. “I’m here to make my own mark, not to keep a legend’s name going,” Bertuzzi said. “Right from day one, it’s been ‘Bert and Gillies.’ That’s the way it’s been. People are still going to want another Gillies.”112 The Islanders had enough trouble trying to escape last place, let alone match the credentials of Hockey Hall of Famers.

 

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