The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

By: Patrice L. Leonard

Keith Primeau said it in his retirement press conference last week. The most wonderful place to be is during springtime with the Philadelphia Flyers. No doubt he was referring to a deep playoff run. But, to get to that, you have to go through what truly is the most wonderful time of the year to all hockey fans. The last couple of weeks in September. The fresh ice. The fresh faces. The grown men acting like boys. Seeing the return of favorites taking the ice almost overcomes the sadness we may have felt for the few we have lost over the summer. This, my dear readers, is the start of training camp, and it is a thing of utter beauty.

I walked into the Skate Zone on Friday and saw more people in the stands to watch the first practice than I saw most of last year. There were two practice rinks and the only dilema that most of those people faced was which group to watch. I, like many others, chose to watch the group that included our newly crowned captain, Peter Forsberg. All eyes had to be on his right foot. Everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. He looked fast, sharp, and happy.

Even with all of the new players in the locker room and what seems to be a new attitude and approach to the game as it is now played, this team still doesn’t have that new car smell. There are the same issues lingering from last year. Most prominently, of course, is the starting goaltender decision that Hitchcock and his staff are inevitably going to have to make. It would be wise to make that decision before the regular season actually starts, but that wouldn’t be par for the course with this team. If I was a betting woman, I’d say that we’ll be seeing Antero Niittymaki in net for game one. But, then again, I usually stick to the slots, so I’ll stay out of it. The problem on defense still looms over this team. The twin trees are still back on our blueline and Gauthier isn’t much faster than they (Hatcher and Rathje) are. That leaves a sophomore in Freddy Meyer and third year guy in Joni Pitkanen to offer speed and fire. One has size, one is diminutive. Does size really matter, though? One thing we have learned is that speed kills in the “new” NHL, and they both have it. They play smart and can handle any situation, so the answer to the size question would have to be, no. A word to “all-knowing and wise” Bob Clarke, next summer instead of collecting other people’s garbage, get some defensive help for our younger guys.

But, all in all the fall brings new hope and excitement to the hockey faithful. I was so overjoyed that hockey was back in town that I stuck around and skated after practice. Just to say that I skated on the same ice as Peter Forsberg means I can die a happy woman. The ice was cold and refreshing. I skated off with a smile on my face. I turned in my blades and walked outside into the sunshine. That’s when I noticed the one thing that ruined the beauty of all that occurred that day. I witnessed a line of people waiting outside in the parking lot. They were waiting for the players to drive out and sign autographs. Now I can appreciate the importance of a freshly inked signature of your favorite player. It should be something cherished for a lifetime. But, some of these “hounds” weren’t just after one special autograph. They sit and wait, in chairs even, and bombard the player with several items to sign. Since hockey players are the most accessible and accommodating of all professional athletes they comply. These “fans” turn around and sell these signatures for a profit. To a true lover of the sport, this is just sick. They need to get a real job and leave the obtaining of autographs to little Jimmy who will always remember the day Peter Forsberg signed his puck.