Why Stevie Y?

By Launy "The" Schwartz

On May 9^th, 1965, Stephen Gregory was born to proud parents Ronald and Jean Yzerman, in Cranbrook British Columbia. The eldest of five children, Steve – or “Stevie” to many of us hockey fiends – took up hockey at age five.

I feel I speak on behalf of anyone in the free world who is even remotely interested in the game, when I say this to Ronald and Jean: Thank you.

Hockey54.com is littered with so much adoration for Nepean Ontario’s adopted son, that you’d think it should have been called Hockey19.com, for cryin’ out loud. And if our office had rafters, his number 19 would be hanging from them.

Now, just like any kid who grew up in the 80s, little Schwartz watched in awe of some guy named Wayne Gretzky. Mr. Schwartz, who didn’t really care for hockey, went so far as to swing a connection here n’ there to claim the Great One’s autograph for his son. (That signature is still stashed away somewhere.)

But, as little Schwartz grew older he began to appreciate the man to whom this article is dedicated.

See, everyone liked number 99 – the defining player of his era. Not one to conform, I gravitated towards the man who would be the saviour for the struggling Red Wings. A team whose fall from grace had already endured several decades, when Yzerman finally donned the winged spoke in 1983.

As incredible as Stevie was, the spotlight never seemed to shine on his bucket, or through his missing tooth. It always focussed on Edmonton (or later, Los Angeles). Then along came the “Magnificent One,” Mario Lemieux, and the sun began to sneak between the smoke that clouds over Steeltown, USA.

Even last week, a popular TV personality said in the 80s, no one was really in Gretzky’s class, until Lemieux came along. Much like Yoda feels the force of every Jedi, I felt the collective confusion of all the Stevie fans out there, watching this respected member of the media.

It must have been nice to have a full team around which to build a dynasty. Not to disrespect former Red Wing Gerard Gallant, but he was no Jari Kurri or Esa Tikkanen. Never mind the super mullet Mario had as a line mate in Jaromir Jagr.

Nope, Yzerman waited patiently and supported the entire Detroit franchise for more than a decade on one knee.

I say this frequently, so I may as well put in print: Had Walter Gretzky decided Wayne should have been a competitive swimmer, and had Jean-Guy Lemieux figured Mario to be better off as a mathlete, Stephen Gregory would have been the defining player of his generation. Try and argue that one, mainstream media.

Despite the individual accomplishments “The Captain of Captains” had earned, there was still the elusive crown to add to his collection. His Lester B. Pearson, Selke, and Masterton Trophies would feel a little lonely on the mantle, without the Stanley Cup to keep them company.

Sure there are many elite players who never hoisted the 35 pound piece of silverware over their heads; nonetheless, the stigma of that missing accomplishment always hangs above their shoulders.

Seriously. Finish this sentence: “Yeah, Marcel Dionne was amazing. He’s one of the only players to score over 700 goals. Too bad he never…”

After more than a decade of personal dominance on the scoring charts, the question began to arise: Would Yzerman ever win the prize he so richly deserved?

With the class expected of one who has the ‘C’ sewn to his sweater, Stevie would simply do what was expected of him. Never would the words, “Trade me right now!” come from his lips. No public tantrums. He waited patiently for players like Sergei Federov to blossom, and for Nicklas Lidstrom to combine the strengths of Paul Coffey and Doug Harvey to become the best import since the Swedish Bikini Team crossed the Atlantic.

William “Scotty” Bowman was also hired in 1994 as the coach. And finally, the years of dedication to the team, which made Yzerman the centerpiece would be rewarded.

Or would they?

Rumours began to swirl that Stevie Y could be traded to Ottawa, or even Montreal. Selfishly I kinda prayed to the hockey gods that Yzerman would wear the blue, blanc et rouge, but in my heart I knew that wouldn’t be right.

Did this bother him? Nope. He just went about his business playing the game as he always did. Stoic yet full of passion, he played with a healthy dose of competitiveness that would fill goalies who faced him with fear. Considering his taste for fine wine, I think it’s appropriate to say this was Vintage Yzerman.

In 1994/95, the Red Wings would come to within periods of claiming the ultimate prize. The hockey world was rooting for the longest standing captain in NHL history to be rewarded. How appropriate that the Devils snatch away the Cup from the very man upon whom everyone felt it should be bestowed.

The Red Wings would not be denied in 1996/97. Just ask Eric Lindros and company. It was like a broom convention at Joe Louis Arena, as Gary Bettman would pass the trophy over to Stevie.

If you think that Ovie’s missing tooth grin is prominent, just take a look at number 19’s smile when he finally got to raise Lord Stanley’s Mug.

Us “Yzerfans” would go on to celebrate two more Cup wins, and tack on a Conn Smythe Trophy to the list of accomplishments we tend to brag about, when it comes to our favourite player.

There are several other memories that are on infinite repeat in the theatre of my mind. In 1996, Yzerman’s slap shot in double OT that whizzed over St. Louis goalie Jon Casey’s shoulder sent the Wings in to the Western Conference final. Rewind the scene a bit further, and you’ll see it was number 99 who gave away the puck. This resulted in the goal that would send Stevie leaping in to the air, after one stride across the blue line, where he wound up and picked the corner.

His 500^th career goal is also stored away in my grey matter. Number 19 drove towards the net. Standing at his post was Patrick Roy. Did that matter? No. There was just enough room to go top shelf and add another milestone to the list. No leaping in to the air for this one. Just a stick raised, and a little grin to remind us all that he still had what it took to snipe one on the person who many consider(ed) to be the greatest goalie of all time.

As this is an article, and not a university thesis - which could be written on the wonder that is Steve Yzerman - I will stop here. You faithful readers get the idea. Yzerman was everything to me that represented the game, and when he retired I knew he left his mark. I mean, even Ovechkin knows it’s classy to have a missing tooth.