Ave atque vale, Bridgy
♫ Ready, Steady, Go ♫
You may remember those "so long, ol' barn" tweets at the end of a Bridgeport Sound Tiger season.
Every year, after the last home game or the last wrapup, I'd take a minute on the way out. I could joke that AHY/WBA/TMA was a home away from home, but honestly, I may have spent more time there than any other structure in which I did not actually live (even if I thought about quietly staying over during a blizzard or three). I could joke that I could (safely and hygienically) use three different third-floor bathrooms with the lights out, but honestly... I did. In its weird way, that place was like part of the family.
So I'd just take a quiet one-on-one moment with the ol' barn. To remember where I was and what I got to do.
And then I started tweeting photos.
2017. (2016, from a few days earlier). 2015.
They were supposed to be sappy. They were provisionals.
Because there was always the chance, right? That I'd be somewhere else by October.
Or that the team would.
We have said almost from the day it arrived that the norm in this league is change. What, Wilkes, Providence and Hartford were the only franchises in place longer with the same affiliate that whole time.* And Hershey, Roch and Syracuse were the only other teams in place, period, longer. ** Things have been a bit more stable recently, but there's always smoke in the air.
And there were was smoke in the air EVERY year here. Literally. Every. Year 1, colleague heard that the Bridgeport Bluefish owners were buying the Sound Tigers to affiliate with the Rangers. Every new arena? Must be for Bridgeport. Every AHL relocation? Sound Tigers going in next. ("It's gonna be huuuuuuuge.") They could turn Nassau Coliseum into an aquarium and people would still tweet "move the Sound Tigers there."
(I love that NONE of those -- all actual bunk I had to make calls about whispers/rumors/reports over the years -- were the ones that finally happened.)
Twice it really seemed possible (one of which would have kept a team here). Things started to smell a little funny a third time last summer. And then Frank Seravalli dropped the Hamilton Tweet last June 30 and made clear this smoke had a fire. Even without the official announcement, the time since has felt like a trudge to the end.
"This is the last year" for the 25th year in a row. Of course eventually it was going to be. Hershey and Rochester may have birthrights, but that's about it. Springfield has had three different franchises in the past 35 years. Not like it's consolation, but Bridgeport got 25 more years than some cities got. (Hi, West Palm Beach. Wish you were here. Or wish I was there.)
This league means the world to me. My old bio at my old gig said I was raised at the New Haven Coliseum. It was another joke, but I didn't not mean it. Back to the Beast, I got to cover this league for at least a bit of 26 seasons -- full-time or pretty close to it for 18-plus of them -- and linger around the fringe for one more. That kid who sat occasionally in Section 4, Row 13, Seat 7 would probably be pretty excited to hear that. He would probably be like "so how many Cups do the Nighthawks win?" and ooh, tough conversation, bud. (My tweet the night of the announcement was more or less to him, maybe if Joel Schiavone's campout had gone differently.) But he'd be excited anyway.
I don't want to go anywhere near the word "legacy." Nothing in that building or city was ever going to be mine, much as I wish I had ripped the little "print media" sign off the wall while they were renovating, and much as I love the people of Bridgeport*** for welcoming a random guy from the 'burbs. But in 25 years, and 1,175 games out of 1,855 and 62 out of 72 playoff games, that's 17 years of day-to-day work, two more of week-to-week work, and six more of occasional drop-ins. And now those were spent writing the first draft of a history that's going to be, well, more footnote than feature.
It was very weird not adding much to that draft the past six or seven years, and it will be surreal to close the chapter. To not log power plays 72 times a year****. To not update the playoff explainer, which at least got a happier local update in 2022... after the team's first playoff-series victory in 19 GOSHDARN YEARS*****. I still kind of wish I actually used the tweet as the lede that night.
BRIDGEPORT (May 4, 2022) -- Holy cro
It could almost stand alone. Shortest story ever.
(Hang on, I think we're about two-thirds of the way through)
♫ I said the joker is a wanted man.... ♫
(Hi, Blair!)
Sports, as you are sick of me saying if you used to hang around the blog******, is a series of shared experiences. And we will always have joking that Wolfmother before the third period means it must be an important game and no one's two-goal lead is safe and bah gawd that's Nathan Lawson's music. We will always have Jamie yelling through the headset to cut the music when someone played "Better Days" -- The Song They Played After A Loss -- at a random midgame stoppage. "Ahead By a Century" or "Rebel Rebel" to open the doors, or "Kickstart My Heart" and "Seek and Destroy" to start warmup, or "Uprising" out of nowhere for Game 4 in 2010, or "My Music At Work" or All That Avicii in the middle of warmup, or "Ready Steady Go" for the hype video, or assorted kids show themes as singalongs, or "Call Me Maybe" and "Paralyzer" becoming 15-year running gags, or the Pirates of the Caribbean theme when Storm saved the day against the evil crew from Portland or wherever.
Boy, did we share some experiences. This last one (is objectionable or inadequate), but stuff happens, every day, when you least expect it. Or sometimes even when you do.
Thank you to everyone who read or wrote or tweeted. Thank you to everyone who let me hang around and try to tell better stories. To Rich, Chris, Bill, Andy, Phil, Kimber, Rick, Jamie, Corey, Paul, Alan, Jason. To Vinny, Garrett, Julio, Paul, John, Joe, Leni, Mike, Matt, Dave, Zack, Kevin, Anthony, Frank (FRANCIS), Jay, Mike, Brent, Joe, Jason, Matt, more recent folks who I never met, so many more. To Steve, Greg, Dave, Dan, Jack, Pat, Brent, Scott, Brent again, Rick, Rocky by osmosis, to Bernie and Bogy and Bertani and all the non-B assistant coaches, all 643 players to wear (one of) the sweater(s), from Ricky leading them out in Rochester to Matthew Highmore departing last from Bridgeport ice Tuesday night. To Roy, Todd, Brian, Peter, Bill, Jeff, Tim, Howard, Mike, Brent, Joe, myriad staffers and interns (hi, Pete!) and interns who became staffers. (RIP, Roy, Charles, Cliff, Nathan, Sergei, Vlady, Lance, Matty and many more around the barn.) To Bob, John, Stan, Aaron and every single off-ice official, and RIP, too many of them, too. To the officials, coaches, staffers, media and everyone else who used to hang out in the press room, when there was a press room. To all the beat folk and PR folk and security folk and equipment staffs around this league. To the folks on the Island. To the league office, and especially to Jason, who probably woke up 1,855 times to a 3 a.m. Twitter DM about something stupid but responded in a perfectly cromulent******* way in the morning.
To all the people at the office who thought covering this was important, particularly Gary and Dave and Rick and Tom and Chris, and to Brian, who picked up the slack, and to Gino, for almost literally everything********. To Kenny and everyone who picked up the hockey slack.
I made great friends here.
I literally watched kids grow up here.
I watched hockey player kids grow up here, too. Watched them go up and fulfill their dreams. Watched them play a thousand games in the Show. Watched them become leaders, coaches, parents, Hall of Famers. Watched their kids play. Watched kids I had covered in high school turn up as pros.
I begged Dave for space one day because the emergency backup goalie told some of the best stories I'd ever heard, and Nick Niedert's travel was not gonna be contained in a note. I told Gary I was going to the Island this one spring day because Brett Gallant's NHL debut was not the kind of story you write from the couch.
I watched the first goaltending tandem become kings of media and probably should have seen it coming. I started taking down the lines in warmup because a gotdang Hall of Famer chirped me that "well what good are ya?" one day when I hadn't, and eventually it became a blog fixture, then a fun feature, though not until Tom Rowe and Jack Capuano had made a delightful mockery of it.
I got to cover an AHL game in at least 30 arenas and at least another 20 rinks in the preseason. I learned the highways of the northeast and visited cities I probably never would have otherwise seen, like Rochester, St. John's and... um... Hamilton.
I gave my heart and soul and life********* to that beat and telling stories I thought were worth you guys hearing. Hope they were. I missed being around to tell them so much the past six or seven years.
I missed you guys.
I'll miss you guys.
And forever, ol' barn.... hail and farewell.
♫ Better Days ♫
*-And Milwaukee, but I-6.
**-And the three surviving I-6 teams, but I-6. (It's wild that they played Milwaukee twice in Year 1, Chicago just that one playoff series that spring, and Grand Rapids not at ALL in 25 years.) And Springfield was continuously occupied, but by two different franchises.
***-The unusual "let's go Bridgeport" chants at the 922nd and last regular-season game in town, in full voice from the biggest non-morning crowd in a decade, were absolutely tremendous. Only time I teared up.
****-In Microsoft Works 4.0, because leave me alone. OK, actually because I couldn't get 2.0 to work anymore.
*****-For what it's worth now, Bridgeport is back up to a tie for the sixth-longest active drought without a playoff-series win. At least that won't reach 19 years here. It can't get higher than third on that list this year. It has the longest drought since a best-of-5 win (2003 vs. Manchester) and the third-longest since a best-of-7 win (2002 against, um, Hamilton), behind only Henderson/San Antonio/Adirondack, 1994, and Tucson/Springfield Falcons, 1997.)
******-Darn, I missed the blog. I'm grateful so many of you missed it, too. I kind of felt like finding a random German team Press Release to squeeze one more "Fun With Babelfish" in here and capitalize a Bunch of Nouns. I went with another Soundin' Off tradition instead and overused footnotes. Wait, did I get a Simpsons P-code in here?
*******-3F13. There we go
********-Including his being the first (maybe second) person to realize Kael Mouillierat had Michigan'd.
*********-Almost literally one night 20 years ago; one last time, please wear your seat belt, thanks.
Categories: Just Business; More Boring Than Usual; So Long Old Friend; Rampant Nostalgia; New Haven; Thinking Too Hard; Simpsons; Southern CT: Taking over hockey one player at a time; Old Time Rock'n'Roll; RIP
|
|