Weep no more, fans of the Atlanta Thrashers. Your trials and tribulations are at an end. Although some of you may already be feeling pangs of nostalgia for the team that played at the Phillips Arena (at the corner of Robertson Avenue and Slothead Street…fans of screwdriver humour will appreciate that, but likely no-one else), you can rest assured that (as morticians are wont to say), it has gone on to a better place. Its new prairie home may never be able to duplicate such beloved Atlanta hockey traditions as Dress Up Like An Empty Seat Night, but the club is certain to find renewed life in a new identity, in much the same way as a pop star begins afresh with a new musical direction, or manager, or preferred misdemeanour conviction, or controlled substance.
Already there has been considerable speculation and debate about what identity the team that was Atlanta’s and is now Winnipeg’s will take. I thought I’d offer a few thoughts on the subject, while I take a respite from stockpiling Atlanta Thrashers memorabilia (soon sure to fetch as pretty a penny on the collector’s market at anything bearing the logo of the Kansas City Scouts).
(It’s a nice design, for all that. It’s based on a famous local statue, which is what Scouts’ players often felt like when faced with much of the opposition the National Hockey League had to offer. Upon reflection, perhaps it wasn’t such a hot idea.)
Anyway, here follow a few ideas on what to call Winnipeg’s newly-transplanted NHL team. ‘Jets’ is not likely to be the final choice. It’s probably a thing of the past anyway—a remnant of simpler times when a barn-sized portrait of The Queen hung at one end of the old Winnipeg Arena, and when the WHA enforced a strict policy of naming teams after members of the old American Football League (Oilers, Jets, Raiders, Saints). Sparky favours continuing the tradition begun by naming the team ‘the Jets’ after the ‘Golden Jet’, Bobby Hull, and calling them the ‘Lake Winnipeg Hossas’, thus honouring both a local body of water and a current NHL player. As for myself, I’m rather partial to calling them the ‘Winnipeg O’ My Hearts”, but I realize that there is little place for sentiment in the rough-and-tumble worlds of hockey and NHL Board of Governors meetings. Given the animus expressed towards this franchise’s relocation by the League’s head office, a name in the form of a peace offering would go a long way in pouring oil on troubled waters:
You can catch more flies with honey, as they say, and you can certainly catch more flies in baseball than you can in hockey, but that’s all beside the point. I have another name that I like more than that, but I’ll save it for the end. For now, I’ll leave the question of alternative monikers to my two linemates. First over the boards is Sparky:
SPARKY’S CHOICE:
Since no-one took my idea of th’ Lake Winnipeg Hossas serious, an even better name’d might oughta be th’ Red River Surreals.
I think it’d be keen if th’ players came onta th’ ice Dali-style under a archway a’ burnin’ giraffes.
MOOSE’S CHOICE:
Burning giraffes aside (way, way aside), it goes without saying that I’m partial to one name in particular:
That doesn’t mean I can’t be swayed to something else. If the people of Winnipeg are dead set on tradition, they should remember that the city had a team that won the Stanley Cup around the turn of the Twentieth Century. It was called the Victorias.
Hey, lookit--I don’t write my own material. I also seem to be getting the leftover sight gags from Victoria Day.
You’ll find a little something extra in your pay envelope this week for being such a sport. As for myself (and I’m glad you all finally got around to wondering), my personal choice in the name-the-former-Thrashers sweepstakes is a perennial holiday favourite…the Manitoba Humbugs.
For now, since the finals of the Coupe Stanley begin tonight (I’ve always preferred the French name—it makes it sound like a steam-powered touring car or an expensive Parisian hairstyle), why don’t you brush up on some of the history of Canada’s favourite winter pastime, while we still have another three weeks before summer:
Until next time, watch out for the two-low-one-high-forecheck…whatever that means.
Uncle Fun
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