Archive for Old School

Stars vs. Ducks…..Playoff Game 4

by Beth

Wow, what a game on Monday night!

Our Dallas Stars were shining bright!

The crowd was loud, the AAC rocked!

And every shot launched at Kari was blocked!

Our team is alive, we fans have hope.

We have no reason yet to mope!

So much happened in playoff game 3,

Anaheim thinks the Stars play dirty.

But it was Getzlaf who threw the very first punch,

If you’re gonna play hockey, don’t be a wuss!

The Ducks have whined to the referees,

That the Stars aren’t polite, they’re not saying please.

This is the playoffs, the game is tough.

Don’t whine and cry if you can’t play rough.

 

The worst part of the game was a bad injury,

To Stephane Robidas, who used to be on our team.

Bless his heart, his leg broke again.

I can’t believe this happened to him.

I don’t feel that Garbutt intended to harm him.

Some things just happen, I’m so sorry he’s hurtin’.

For Game 4 I will be in the building.

I really can’t wait, my excitement won’t be yielding!

I’m hoping for a victory to tie the series up.

There is nothing quite like the playoffs for the Stanley Cup!

GO STARS!!!!!

 

Poem for 4/21: Playoff Hockey in Dallas!!!!

by Beth

Playoff Hockey in Dallas Tonight!!!!

 

Tonight the Ducks come to skate on our pond,

The will to win for our team must be strong.

It’s not easy to be down by 2 games.

But our team has been able to make some small gains.

I expect big things from our Captain Benn,

Garbutt & Eakin, Sceviour & Seguin!

Of course Kari will have to be spot on,

The energy will be high, there will be no reason to yawn.

There is playoff hockey in our city again,

We’ve got to get ourselves a win.

Put on your victory green and jump up!

The Stars are playing for the Stanley Cup!

EDITORS NOTE:
While this fantastic poem was written and submitted before Game 3 of the Western Conference Quarter-finals, I didn’t get into the system to publish it until this morning. Please don’t blame the author for my delayed publishing!
— Warden Jay

Mike Modano and the Star Struck Fan

by Sylvia Burkhalter

Remember the NHL lockout? Remember how desperate hockey fans were to see any type of hockey action? I remember. In fact, it was during that time that I went to the Allen Americans opening game just to watch a game of hockey, any hockey by any team. Now this might now not seem to be such a big deal to some but considering I live in Waxahachie and had to drive to Allen on a Friday night during the rush hour was a big deal. I had bought the tickets online and before I left Waxahachie, I called the Allen Americans home office to verify that my purchase had been successful and to get directions on where to pick the tickets up at the event center. I explained to the agent that I would hate to fight the drive and traffic only to get there and not have tickets. The purchase was confirmed and I looked forward to seeing some hockey action finally.

That night at the game, during the break between the first and second period, a gentleman named Richard who was wearing an Allen American employee shirt walked up to my seat and introduced himself. He told me that I didn’t know him (he was right) and asked if I was Sylvia. I told him yes, that was my name. He went on to tell me that if I would go with him, I would be happy that I did. I was puzzled and apprehensive to say the least. He further asked me how many was in my group. There were six of us. He again told me that if we would go with him, we all would be happy and that he would escort us back to our seats when we were finished. I motioned to my group and declared that we all were going with Richard. Now there were six of us puzzled but obediently following Richard

Now having been to many hockey games, my first thought was that we were going to participate in some sort of activity during one of the period breaks (sumo wrestling, ice bowling, etc.). My first indicator that I was wrong was when he led us into an elevator and the attendant pushed the button to the top floor where the suites were located. Sensing our puzzlement, Richard explained that there was someone who wanted to meet me. Someone who wanted to meet the hockey fan that drove all the way from Waxahachie, Texas on a Friday night to watch the Americans. I thought to myself, Okay, I’m game on meeting new people. I might meet someone interesting. When the elevator door opened and we stepped out into the concourse, after only a few seconds of walking, much to our amazement, we saw Mike Modano walking toward us. Richard said, “Mike, this is Sylvia. You wanted to meet her.” Now I have met important people in my life and I have been able to conduct myself in a dignified manner but upon meeting Mike, I found myself totally star struck. For the next fifteen minutes, Mike Modano knew exactly who he was because all any of us could say was, “Your Mike Modano!” I think he gets that a lot. He was so gracious and friendly. He signed autographs, chatted, and let us take all the pictures we wanted. He even allowed an old hockey fan to give him a hug. It was that night, not the nights I watched as he scored multiple goals or skated like the wind on the ice, that I became a true to the core Mo fan for life. Sorry, Eddie, you were replaced in my heart that night.image

Mike Modano: The Kid From Michigan And How I’ll Remember Him

by Dylan Nadwodny
Mike Modano on Ice

The dark jersey flapping in the wind behind him as he skated by all who stood in his way towards the defenseless goalie. We all remember that. The kid from Livonia, Michigan drafted #1 overall in the 1989 NHL Entry Draft. The kid that would forever change hockey in Dallas on a level nobody has, or most likely will ever do. And on March 8th, 2014, that kid steps on the ice once again to have his famous number 9 lifted to the rafters in the city that made him so famous.

Hockey in Dallas? Nobody would have ever thought of such a thing until 1993 when the Minnesota North Stars moved down south to North Texas. Norm Green brought the franchise down to Dallas amidst outrage from those he left behind in Bloomington and the “State of Hockey”. Norm was looking to win, and win fast when he moved the team to Dallas. As any fan that attended a game in the Dallas Stars’ 20th Anniversary season remembers, Green uttered the words at that first game at Reunion Arena, “And now we, the Dallas Stars; all of us and all of you, have a message to send to the NHL: Don’t Mess With Texas!” In a matter of five short years, the pieces were in place to prove that statement to be true. None more prevalent than the ever humble assistant captain, Mike Modano. Along with Stars greats such as Craig Ludwig, Derian Hatcher, Ed Belfour, Brett Hull, and Joe Nieuwendyk, the young Modano and team did what Norm envisioned from the start. They brought a hockey championship to the city of Dallas. The 1999 Stanley Cup put the Stars on the map for the next few years as they made it to the playoffs and the Stanley Cup Finals the next year, unfortunately losing to the New Jersey Devils in six games. The image of Mike Modano raising Lord Stanley, though, will forever be engrained into the minds of every Stars fan.

You ask almost any NHL fan the first player they think of when you mention the Dallas Stars, and it will most likely be Mike. You ask me what I think of when I hear the name Mike Modano, and one word comes to mind: legendary. The man who compiled both the most points (1,374) and goals (561) for an American born player can be described as nothing more than an icon to not only the city of Dallas and the Stars franchise, but for the United States and hockey as a whole. Mike Modano to me is the epitome of what a star player should be. He lets his play on the ice do the talking for him, has the awareness to know what to do in the situation he is presented, and knows exactly what to say. In searching for adjectives to describe Modano, none that I can think of can accurately define what he means to both myself and any Stars fan I come across. The iconic image that I will always remember is that black jersey flailing like a bat out of hell on his way to scoring a highlight reel goal. As I often like to say, “Once a Star, Always a Star”. Now, with his number being immortalized for as long as the Stars exist, the #9 will always be used by one man, and one man only. The great Mike Modano.

Imagine, what a young kid from Michigan could do for hockey in Texas. Make it evolve from almost an impossible shot in the dark to a full fledged reality and franchise for North Texans to be proud of. I sit here today, in 2014, looking back on all the years I can remember watching Mike Modano, oblivious to how great he was until he began breaking records. Only after watching him grab the all-time American points scoring lead did it dawn on me how special he really was. I always had a sense that he was a great player within the organization, but he was never one to flaunt accomplishments around as many people would think, which is why I believe it never hit me until that night against the San Jose Sharks on November 7, 2007, where he would capture the record on a shorthanded breakaway goal. Only then did I realize and fully understand that he, in my mind, is undoubtedly the greatest American born player ever.

Looking back on the career of Mike Modano, many will agree with me in saying that there might never be another American player like him. His loyalty, determination, toughness, and dedication separated him from virtually everyone else and made him into what people remember him as today. The icon that will be forever associated with the Stars and the city of Dallas. In a city known for men such as Troy Aikman, Roger Staubach, Emmitt Smith, and Tom Landry, to name a few, Modano is easily up there with them, and I believe always will be.

 

Mike Modano. Once a Star. Always a Star.

 

(Photo Source: USA Today)

My Unexpected Encounter With Stephane “Tough As Nails” Robidas

by Dylan Nadwodny

Robis1

It was a cold, crisp morning in early January, as four of my friends and I headed out to Frisco to go watch the Stars practice, as we had many times before. This was a little over a month since the Chicago Blackhawks game I had attended and witnessed Robidas break his leg. I remember the night as clear as day.

A play deep in the Blackhawks zone that saw Stephane fall into the boards and land in a slump on the ice. Sitting in my seat and knowing Robidas, I thought to myself “Oh, he’ll get up. It’s just a stinger from hitting the boards.” As he laid on the ice longer and longer, I realized that the situation was much more serious than I first thought. SItting in the first row of the upper deck in section 330, I was leaning on the glass with my head in my hands, fearing the worst. All I ever knew about Stephane Robidas was seeing him get up after virtually everything that was thrown at him. Now, seeing him lying on his back on the ice of the American Airlines Center, I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. My heart was wrenched even more as I saw the door to the away locker room open and saw the EMTs bringing out a gurney to place Robidas on. I was on the verge of losing it seeing a player I had always loved being carried off the ice on a stretcher. That was, until January 3rd.

Practice went on as normal with the Stars just coming off of a loss the night before to the Montreal Canadiens. As I always do, I took photos of the guys doing their drills and having their fun once the main part of practice had ended. Still, nothing was out of the norm. Once the majority of players had left the ice, it was then that we decided to head to the hallway outside of the locker room where the players all came out of. We waited a good twenty minutes, anticipating one of the first people to come out to be Jamie Benn or Kari Lehtonen. The door opened, and Kari stepped out, and made the rounds to sign autographs for everyone who was there, while also taking the occasional photo. Once he had left, we waited a few minutes more, anticipating the next guy to come out. The door opened, and who walked out of that door was someone that I never expected to see.

Stephane Robidas walked out of the locker room. This was the first time I had seen him in person since November 29th when he broke the leg. Only this time, he had no evidence that his leg was snapped in half, except for a minor limp. I could not believe my eyes seeing him standing right in front of me after my last memory of him. As every other player had, he walked down the line, signing autographs, except there was a feeling of excitement in the air in that small hallway seeing Robidas on his feet without crutches. He worked his way down to where I was standing, and once he got to me, I decided to pop the question how his leg was doing. He looked at me and responded with “It’s feeling good. Hope to be back soon.” I decided I might as well get a photo with the star defenseman, and it was a good thing I did, because that would be the last photo I ever got with Stephane.

I know for me, until Brenden DIllon entered the fray, Stephane Robidas was easily my favorite defenseman since Sergei Zubov. As were many Stars greats of the past, he was a class act on and off the ice. He fought hard for the club and knew how to go about the game with a sense of toughness, but at the same time, doing what was right for the team. After all his years in Dallas, I would have never thought to hear the words “Robidas” and “trade” in the same sentence. So, it would make sense that on March 4th while in school and scrolling through Twitter, when I saw Bob McKenzie tweet: “Lots of chatter out of DAL that Stephane Robidas may be headed to ANA. No official confirmation yet on that, though. #TSN #Tradecentre” my heart immediately sank. I was hoping what I was reading was not true. In a matter of a half hour, what I hoped would not happen did happen. I sat in my car after class with a sense of numbness and shock after what had just transpired. In this short time after the trade, I’ve found my best remedy to seeing Robidas leave is knowing that he’ll have a chance at winning the Stanley Cup he deserves.

I’ll always remember Stephane Robidas as a true professional, and a mentor to my favorite Stars player right now, Brenden Dillon. Most of all, I’ll remember his sincerity and dedication to the Stars organization that many in sports seem to forget. No matter what jersey Stephane is in, I’ll always remember him best as a Dallas Star, and it will always remain that way. Once a Star. Always a Star.

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