Saying Goodbye is Hard to Do

Root for the logo on the front of the jersey, not the name on the back. That’s what they tell sports fans in the modern world of free agency and salary caps.

Ideally, this is supposed to mean that the team is far more important than any one player. Realistically, it means don’t get attached to individual players because every one of them is on borrowed time with that organization.

I learned this lesson the hard way in 1992, back when such lessons were relatively new in the sports world. I will never claim that I was the most devout or devoted Pirate fan but I was a fan. If you doubt the veracity of my claim, I’ll happily dial up my good friend the Kapper and let him regale you with stories about the 50 or so Pirate games we went to over four years.

My fandom stopped short just about the time that Barry Bonds, Doug Drabek and anyone else who could play bolted for the free agent door. The Pirates turned into a glorified minor league team that day and 18 years later, little has changed.

I learned the lesson far more poignantly in 2000 when the Pens parted ways with Tommy Barrasso.

By the time the deal was made, it was abundantly clear that Barrasso’s time in the Burgh had long since passed. He was no longer playing at an elite level and sadly had become an increasingly difficulty presence in the locker room. When Ottawa came calling with an offer of two players who could help the team right then and there (including the illustrious Ron Tugnutt of five overtime fame), the deal had to be made. I knew it, which means everyone on earth knew it.

And the day it happened, I was crushed.

I remember when rumors of the deal started to spread. The internet was in its infancy then and we did not have 300 news organizations firing off rumors before they occurred. By the time word was spreading of a Barrasso deal, it was done. I clearly remember a stream of emails, started from Chiodo central in Philadelphia, the theme of which was…has anybody heard from Habe? Are we sure he’s safe?

I can laugh at it now and on some level it was funny then too. It was intended to be a joke but it definitely fell in line with the idea that often in humor there is a significantly serious element. My friends were joking about how devastated I would be by the trade of my all time favorite player but in all honesty, I think they really were worried about me.

Again, I knew Tommy had to go. And I kept telling myself that I root for the Penguins, not Barrasso. I had been eased into the deep end of the pool by his decreasing presence on the ice that season. And it still took me awhile to recover. I rattled off an email to the group, reminding them of the good all days (at that time) when the Pens were winning Stanley Cups and Barrasso was known purely as a great goaltender. At this risk of dropping into a ridiculously sappy 80s reference, those were indeed the best days of my life (that’s for you Weet).

Since that time I’ve had more practice in dealing with the harsh reality of modern sports. I watched the Pens dump Jagr, Kovalev, and then the whole team at the start of this decade. I dealt with Mario’s retirement. And now of course I’m dealing with this whole Ben Roethlisberger mess which is in some ways worse.

Seriously, what would be harder, dealing with Ben leaving the Steelers over free agency or constantly debating whether it’s ok to like him and root for him? It’s the ultimate indignity of fandom. We mocked San Francisco fans for their unabashed love of Bonds and his steroid induced home run record. Are San Francisco fans now mocking us for standing behind Ben? Or is Ben to some extent a victim of immaturity, bad decisions, and the 24 hour media cycle?

Alas, that’s a topic for a different day.

I bring all this up because yesterday I got another lesson in loss and how much it can hurt, through the eyes of my wife Emily. The Blackhawks made the decision to part with their Stanley Cup goaltender Antti Niemi. To say Niemi was her favorite player would be a comparable understatement to saying I was a Barrasso fan in the 90s. Rest assured, Antti Niemi did not have a bigger fan outside of Finland than Emily Seto.

As early as last October, when the Hawks were winning in spite of the nightly Cristobal Huet five hole give away, Emily was already trumpeting Niemi. She kept asking why he was only playing one of five games even though that one game always seemed to be shutout. The only answer I could give was that the Hawks were trying to justify Dale Tallon’s outrageous, post all night drinking binge contract to Huet.

The irony in all this is that two years ago, the Hawks were throwing out $5.6 Million to a borderline NHL starter with a history of going soft in big games. Two years later they walked away from a young, talented, Stanley Cup winning goaltender for basically half that price. They are not alone in this. I spewed out a blog last week about the devaluation of goaltending this year and Niemi is just the latest and most egregious example.

Even worse, ten year veteran Marty Turco signed on for what is essentially back-up wages. Ironically, Turco reportedly turned down a multi-year deal in Philly for this one year deal because it gave him “the best chance to win the Stanley Cup.” Gee, where have I heard that one before.

We were at the Blackhawks convention this weekend and listening to general manager Stan Bowman talk made two things clear. First, Scotty’s kid is better than Sominex if you find you can’t sleep at night. And second, Niemi’s days in Chicago were somewhere between waning and numbered. Bowman would not even mention his Stanley Cup goaltender by name. He just kept talking about how its about the team and not about one player. I believe Emily’s comment at the time was something to the effect of, that’s not what I wanted to hear.

I guess in retrospect I should not be shocked by this. Stan’s legendary father won eight Stanley Cups with Ken Dryden and Barrasso but he also won two with Chris Osgood. Somewhere along the way, Bowman became a believer that you don’t need great goaltending to win. I call it the Osgoodification of the NHL and it’s a trend I’ve come to truly detest.

That being said, let’s remember something about Osgood. For as much as he flops around like a beached whale, for as awkward and slow as he often looks in net, the man does seem to make the big save at the big time. I maintain that had Detroit not switched from the washed up Dominik Hasek to Osgood in 2008, the Pens would have won back to back championships. For as much as I don’t like Osgood, his career suggests that he was at his best in big games. That’s the definition of great goaltending in my mind.

That’s what Marc Andre Fleury did for the Pens in both 2008 and 2009. And that’s what Antti Niemi did for the Hawks last year. The fact that he does not have Patrick Roy’s pedigree is irrelevant. Over four rounds of the most intense, stressful, and pressure packed games in any sport, Niemi made the big save when it had to be made. And the Hawks thought so little of that they replaced him with a guy who in his prime was exactly the opposite; a regular season star and a playoff choker.

And let me be clear, Marty Turco’s prime ended with a thud around 2008. As Hossa-like as Turco’s cup desire might be, it does not change the fact that if somebody was offering him 3 years, $12 Million, Turco would not have signed with the Hawks for Scott Clemnensen wages. It’s buyer beware when you go on the cheap at the most important position in sports, even if it means fighting with the all mighty salary cap.

In any event, that’s a story for another day.

The story for today is about saying goodbye and how hard it is to do. It’s about understanding that it’s ok to feel a sense of loss when your favorite player departs. It’s about knowing the harsh reality of sports in any era; we root for the name on the back of the jersey as much as the name on the front. We’re human and we’re fans. We just can’t help ourselves.

Goodbye Antti and good luck; we will miss you.