There are those things that bring you back to childhood, and those things that make you sad. For me, the Hartford Whalers are both.

The Whalers were one of the top teams in the old WHL league, a precursor to the modern NHL. Something special, they consistently made the playoffs and almost won numerous championships with talent such as Gordie Howe leading the way. When the WHL was merged with the NHL, the New England Whalers became the Hartford Whalers, and a tragic history would begin.

I was young when the Whalers were at their prime. I think that it was 1992 or 91 when they had their best playoff run. I'm not too sure. They were always a mystery to me. Where I live you can see a Rangers game quite easily, but it was oddly hard to find a Whaler's game on TV, and when you're 10 or so, you rarely get to control the remote at night. For me, the only time I would see the Whalers is after an hour car ride to the our state's capitol, where the old Hartford Civic Center was.

I barely remember my first Whaler's game. I had no idea what was going on, but I'm pretty sure that it was against the Rangers, whom I also liked. Being young, I didn't realize that these teams were rivals. It was a good game, to be sure. I'm pretty sure it was during the 93-94 season, so the Ranger's trounced the hapless Whalers. Still, it was my first live hockey game, and it was like nothing else I knew.

From then on, I was hooked. One of my fondest memories is the entrance of the Whalers into the arena. The announcer would get on the stick and say, "Ladies and gentlemen....your Hartford Whalers!". Just then, a piece of music called "Brass Bonanza" would kick in, and the team would fly out onto the ice. I remember Geoff Sanderson, Pat Verbeek, and most of all, Sean Burke, one of the first professional goalies that I was able to see live.

There were many little things I loved about the Whalers. I loved that they always lost. It was a nice thing. The hardest part of being a Ranger fan for the last decade and a half has been the period after they won the cup, and the 10 years in which they haven't made the playoffs. That was never a worry with the Whale, who always stayed about .5oo. I remember the Whaler's blimp flying around the arena dropping free tickets on the crowd. I remember the t-shirt that my brother caught, launched into the crowd by the on ice entertainers at intermission. I remember a woman trying to sell the crowd something at intermission, falling, and the crowd chanting "asshole" at her.

My favorite memory has to revolve around Glen Healey, who was the backup goalie for the Rangers for many years and one of my favorites. The visitor's bench in Hartford was often too small for a modern team, and as such the backup goalie had to sit in the area where the zambonis come in. Glen was a good goalie, amazing in fact, but he was playing behind future hall of famer Mike Richter. So there he sat, next to the crowd, watching the game. I remember looking down at him in his folding chair, wondering what he was thinking. Then I noticed the 10 year old boy next to him, and the fact that the kid was sharing his pretzel bites with Healey.

This is part of what made the Whalers special. They just weren't all there. I remember too leaving a game and seeing a billboard in the lobby of the arena imploring the fans to buy 11,000 season tickets, or else the team might not last much longer. I remember that the fans pulled together and bought the tickets. They either got them individually or with many people, but by god, they got them. I also remember the next year and the failed negotiations for a new arena.

I also remember the news that the Hartford Whalers were going to become the Carolina Hurricanes.

To this day, I miss the Whalers. They were a part of my childhood, and them leaving has always been a sore point of sorts for me. I can't hear "Brass Bonanza" without having my heart leap up. For my friends that are hockey fans, we can joke and remember the Whale, the blimp, the team that never could, and remember the good times, and something that we will never have again: our own team.

Brass Bonanza

-ccmas