Now that we are officially 100 posts old, it’s time to celebrate with a little walk down memory lane to the darkest days of Canuck history. Enjoy the ride, but watch your back - the Moose is on the loose.
Three years removed from their brush with brilliance (the famed 1994 run to the Stanley Cup Final), by the summer of 1997 the Canucks had seemingly become perpetual underachievers, having not advanced beyond the 2nd round since ‘94 and missing the post season entirely in the spring of ‘97. Despite adding speed and skill with the likes of Alexander Mogilny, Markus Naslund and Russ Courtnall to an already deep group of forwards, the Canucks just couldn’t seem to gel. And after a 1996 summer dance that almost netted them Wayne Gretzky (save a poorly judged late night phone call ultimatum), the Canucks were determined once again to find the missing piece to the puzzle.
When it was announced that the Canucks had managed to lure Mark Messier away from New York (and his pal Gretzky), the delirious faithful were all but planning the parade route. After all, Messier was the “greatest leader in professional sports”. And despite being 36 years of age at the time, was only one season removed from a near 100 point season. And really, no one was expecting him to light it up, but only lead this skilled but possibly uninspired squad. And he was the best at that, right?
Upon arriving in Vancouver, Messier’s first move was a sign of things to come - an act that was light on leadership but heavy on ego. By 1997 the Canucks’ 27 year history was marred by mediocrity with a couple of heroic, some might say fluky, runs to the Stanley Cup Final every decade or so. This tradition, or lack thereof, was evidenced by the fact that only one jersey was hanging from the rafters (plumber Stan Smyl) and only one other was retired (Wayne Maki, a young skilled winger who died tragically from brain cancer while still on the active roster). Messier thought so little of this precious little tradition that he took it upon himself to contact the Maki family and request their permission to un-retire Maki’s #11. Placed in this most uncomfortable position, the family relented. And the Moose was only getting started.
Before the start of the much anticipated regular season, incumbent Canuck captain (and Johnny Canuck himself) Trevor Linden respectively gave up the captaincy to the legendary Messier. It wasn’t long before Linden regretted the move. As the dressing room camaraderie changed for the worst, the team struggled mightily from the get go and by early November had lost 10 straight games. This ineptitude cost President and GM Pat Quinn his job and shortly thereafter coach Tom Renney was also out. And in was Messier’s previous partner in crime, Mike Keenan.
At this point, the local faithful were completely stunned. Pat Quinn, after all, was the man that had finally brought respectability and stability to the franchise. The arrival of Messier was supposed to be the icing on the cake of the most successful chapter in franchise history, not the dawn of a new era. However, if we’d been able to distance ourselves from the furor, we’d have seen a pattern emerging.
Let’s flashback to Messier’s arrival in New York where the Rangers finished first overall in his first season with veteran coach Roger Nielson at the helm. In his second season in the Big Apple, a power struggle erupted between the two, with Messier leading a mutiny that remarkably left the Rangers out of the playoffs and Nielson out of a job. You all know who the replacement was. Yes, Iron Mike. And the result of course, too. That damn ‘94 Stanley Cup.
In Vancouver, as was his calling card, Keenan quickly began his mind games, particularly with Kirk McLean, who apparently did not impress Keenan with his fitness level. Despite suffering only one overtime loss in the first six games of the Keenan era and McLean stopping 92% of his shots during that period, he was yanked at the first sign of trouble in his seventh game, after allowing 2 goals on 9 shots. Seven starts and 3 Keenan hooks later, his days as the starting goalie were over, commencing Vancouver’s status as a goalie graveyard.
McLean along with heart and soul grinder Martin Gelinas (who played his best hockey here and never wanted to leave) were quickly dealt. And weeks later, Trevor Linden after being repeatedly shamed by Keenan was mercifully dealt, too.
With that the house cleaning was complete and a new era dawned. An era that featured horrid defensive play and inconsistent efforts from the offensive stars. Despite all the optimism of the pre-season, it became clear (at least to those watching) that the franchise was commencing on yet another rebuilding project. The logic of having this squad led by a washed up hall-of-famer eating up quality minutes was seemingly lost by those now in charge.
Throughout this period, the official word from the team and from players was what a fantastic leader Messier was and how much he was teaching the team. Future captain, Markus Naslund often credited Messier‘s influence. Via the media however, the Messier sound bites were pathetically laughable. To the loyal fan base, the charade was sickening and, in very short order, season ticket holders were leaving in droves.
As potentially crippling to the franchise as the Messier era was, it was blessedly brief. In reasonably short order, the ownership group would see the error of having given the keys of the car to the diabolical Keenan (and, perhaps, Messier), hiring Quinn apprentice Brian Burke to oversee the team. Burke after toying with Keenan briefly, inserted Marc Crawford. And within a year, the young team appeared poised to become a playoff contender once again. Of course, by the time the Canucks did make it back to the post-season, Messier, Moose size ego still intact, had retreated back to New York for a final three years of futility.
In the end, the Messier era in Vancouver can be looked upon in a manner of ways. Some will say it tragically marked the end of the most successful era in team history. Others will say it planted the seeds for future success (Linden became Bertuzzi and McCabe who became Luongo and one of the Sedins; the futility of the team in Messier’s second season got them the other Sedin). The truth, of course, is somewhere in the middle. Clearly, the team that Messier joined, despite having some great offensive talent, had a defensive core (McLean, Jyrki Lumme, Dana Murzyn, Dave Babych) that suddenly had their best days behind them. And of course, to credit Keenan and/or Messier for what Burke and Dave Nonis were ultimately able to do with future trades and draft picks is ludicrous.
Ultimately, Messier left a bad taste in the mouth of the Canucks’ faithful. Whether the quality of the supporting cast was overrated, he seemingly had his fingerprints all over the exits of many of the most popular Canucks ever. This could have all been forgiven had things worked out differently then or since. But with hockey in Vancouver, things always seem to work out the same…
