Snowman On Fire

Went to the Penguins-Canadiens game Thursday night (2/1) in the Igloo in Pittsburgh. Work related, not purely for fun, although it was a fun game. The Igloo is a complete toilet by most standards of modern ice hockey arenas. The ceiling is low and domed, there are a scant few luxury boxes, there is exposed ironwork that leads to some creative views, and it’s impossible to walk anywhere on the concourse. If Denver’s Pepsi Center is a 9, and the Continental Airlines Arena is a 5, then the Igloo is about a 2 on a good day. It does have character, and it does capture the complete essence of Pittsburgh sports (I rubbed the Willie Stargell plaque in the Gate 1 entry just because). Aside from that, it’s an inelegant place for an elegant game.

Nobody cares. The fans come to watch some outstanding hockey.

The house was packed. Literally: Sold out, over 17,400 people, all standing room slots filled. And nobody was masquerading as a red seat; every seat had a butt in it. Only two thirds of the crowd was male; and there were a significant number of school age kids there. The Penguins have a following, whether from outstanding young players, local television exposure, loyal fan base, long-lived family traditions, the consistency of Pittsburgh sports theming (all teams are black and gold, from Pirates to Steelers to Penguins), or just because the Igloo is a good place to get out of the snow on a Thursday night. The guy two rows in front of me was giving me high-fives on every Penguins goal, and I didn’t have the heart or cajones to tell him I was secretly rooting for Montreal to keep a double-digit distance between the Burgh and the Swamp teams.

Down the stretch if the Penguins need that little push over the edge, the bit that makes them “go to eleven”, they’ll get it from the guy in Section 21 who hollers “Colby” to Colby Armstrong every shift, like a dog barking at the moon, or from the guy who took his son into the men’s room and was proudly demonstrating use of the trough system (outside of Fenway Park and the old Princeton Stadium, it’s the only other urinal trough I’ve seen for that many people).

Attention, Devils fans: The Steel City cannot out posture us down the stretch.

Sole disappointment of the night (aside from the Penguins pulling it out in the shootout): Didn’t make it to Primanti Brothers for a sausage, peppers, slaw and french fry sandwich. Last one I had was two years ago and I’m still dreaming of it.

Patrik Elias just demonstrated everything that I have wanted to ever teach about sportsmanship and loyalty. He signed with the Devils for $42M over 7 years, netting him a cool six million a year. While it’s a nice jump over where he is now, you have to frame it within two endpoints: during Elias’ first contract years, he felt like the Devils were underpaying him (they were), and most recently reports out of Montreal said that Bob Gainey had put an offer on the table to pay Patrik upwards of $7M a year. Elias could have asked a team for up to $8.8M a year, the maximum under the current salary cap.

He took a home team discount. He put loyalty and team above wallet.

In these days of free agency and market pricing, there are very few players who chose to stay wit h the team in which they make the show, let alone the team that drafted them. Patrik’s contract signing reminds me of Number 8 himself, Willie Stargell, who played his entire 21-year career with the Pirates, from being signed as an 18-year old to playing in their farm system to eventually having his likeness engraved in bronze in front of their stadium. Stargell was the heart and soul of the Pirates in the 70s, and Patrik will be the same for the Devils in the nineties, the naughties, and the teens.

All of our Czech merchandise is ready to be worn again, including the 3-by-6 foot Czech flag that I picked up in the Prague airport this week. You never know when you need to say mokrat dekuji, Patrik (Thanks, Patrick) visually from row 8 in the Meadowlands. I’m just thrilled we’ll be able to do that for the next few years.

Jose Reyes hit for the cycle tonight. My son and I saw the triple, which made him 3-3 and left Reyes only a single away from accomplishing the feat, and then we managed to catch his single that put him on this list of rare accomplishments.

What other baseball statistical class includes Willie Stargell, Honus Wagner, Kirby Puckett, Ted Williams, Stan Musial and Joe DiMaggio, but excludes Hank Aaron, Babe Ruth, Barry Bonds and every Yankees player since 1995? Hitting for the cycle requires power, speed, bat control and sometimes a bit of good mojo at the plate.

It’s one of those goofy, unimportant sports events you remember for a long time. The first player I saw hit for the cycle was Richie Zisk of the Pittsburgh Pirates, in a 14-1 drubbing of San Francisco in 1974. Brought up to replace Roberto Clemente, Zisk proved himself a hitter in all aspects that day, and he became the first Buc in 10 years to hit for the cycle. At that time, the last Pirate to join the club was Willie Stargell, who hit for the cycle in his third season. A generation from now, we won’t remember who won the game (the Mets blew it in the 9th), or who else was playing, but my son and I will smile when we think about the last school night of 2006. Sure beats studying for a social studies quiz.