February 8, 2004 6:16 AM

Eleven years later, and I still miss them....

North Stars' first season filled with triumph, tragedy (Login: yuppieskum; Password: makis1)

Things were a bit different in 1967....

The first time the NHL arrived in Minnesota, a rink-side seat cost $5.50, a player's annual salary averaged $22,000, and spectators arrived from supper-club dinners for 8 p.m. games dressed as if they were attending the theatre.

Six years after the Twins and Vikings arrived in Minnesota, eight Twin Cities businessmen raised on skates landed major league hockey in 1967, investing $2 million in an expansion franchise and $6 million more in a sparkling arena built into a man-made hillside next to Metropolitan Stadium.

The late Met Center- the site is now the Mall of America

The ownership group -- half from Minneapolis, half from St. Paul -- considered renovating the State Fairgrounds Hippodrome or the St. Paul Auditorium for the new team's home. The NHL -- expanding for the first time in 50 years, from the Original Six to 12 teams -- rejected the idea.

So lawyer Walter Bush and his seven partners chose neutral ground -- Bloomington -- and quickly erected the Metropolitan Sports Center, a 15,000-seat arena that shone bright white under spotlights at night.

On opening night, workers still were installing seats as fans arrived to see a collection of minor leaguers, NHL castoffs and a couple of promising prospects.

Minnesota had always been a hotbed of amateur hockey, but no one was at all certain that the NHL could make a go of it in the Great North Woods. Would Minnesotans support an expansion team that was almost certain to be pushed around on a regular basis during it's first season? Almost in spite of themselves, the North Stars fell just short of making it to the Stanley Cup finals in their very first season.

I was seven years old, and I couldn't ice skate to save my life (I still can't), but I was hooked. Two years later, I won a trip to Bloomington to see the North Stars play the old Broad Street Bullies- the Philadelphia Flyers. I came away with a broken stick that belonged to Philadelphia's #22, Ross Lonsberry. It was a broken hockey stick, worthless to anyone but a kid smitten with the game. You could have handed me the scepter that Moses used to part the Red Sea and it wouldn't have made nearly the impact on me that that hockey stick did. I was in Heaven- or at least I was until someone stole the stick on the drive home.

The 1967-68 season was a tragicomedy in many respects. Given the way that the NHL was organized at the time, all of the expansion teams were in one conference, and the established teams (including the "Original Six") were in the other. And then there was Bill Masterton.

That first season brought both tragedy and triumph. On Jan. 13, 1968, Bill Masterton, who had retired and moved to Minnesota to work for Honeywell before forging a comeback, hit his bare head on the ice against Oakland and died two days later at age 29. He is the only player to die from injuries suffered in an NHL game. The league that season named a postseason award for perseverance and dedication after him.

The stunned North Stars lost their next six games but rallied and came within a goal of reaching the Stanley Cup Finals in their very first season, mostly because all six expansion teams were placed in the same conference.

They won the final two games of a seven-game series against Los Angeles, then lost in double overtime in the seventh game against St. Louis. Maniago still contends the North Stars would have met mighty Montreal in the finals if the owners hadn't booked the Ice Follies into Met Center, an engagement that placed two games at home and five in St. Louis.

The 1967-68 season marked the beginning of an infatuation with a hockey that continues today, long after the North Stars skipped town and moved to Dallas. Two of the highlights of my life were the two trips the North Stars made to the Stanley Cup Finals, in 1981 and 1991. In '81, they caught the tail end of the NY Islanders dynasty, and got their butts handed to them. In '91, Mario Lemieux's Pittsburgh Penguins took the North Stars apart. Sure, I was disappointed, but it meant I got to watch the team I loved play hockey late into May and early June. How bad could that be, eh?

Neal Broten- he won a MN HS title, NCAA Title, Olympic Gold Medal & a Stanley Cup

It is odd that a young boy who grew up two hours south of the Canadian border and yet couldn't skate a lick became such a huge hockey fan. It got so bad that I used to do anything possible to make certain that I got to watch the Game of the Week, which never involved the North Stars (it was usually Rangers- Bruins or Rangers-Canadiens or something along those lines). Still, I would sit in my room by myself for three hours on a Saturday afternoon and watch Phil Esposito or Brad Park or Yvon Cournoyer work their magic, all the while hoping that my North Stars would do the same thing. It never happened, but I had a dream.

When I was 10 or 11, my father returned from a business trip to some destination I've long since forgotten. When he got home, he told me that the North Stars had been on his flight, and he sat next to Gump Worsley, who at that time was their starting goaltender and a grizzled veteran now in the Hockey Hall of Fame. If he had sat at the right hand of God on the flight home it wouldn't have had nearly the impact on me. Yeah, I had it bad.

I lived in Minneapolis during the 1992-93 season, which was the North Stars' last year in Minnesota. The had new uniforms, similar to what they wear now, with the "Stars" logo emblazoned on the chest. Gone was the stylized "N", which I adored, only to be replaced with something terribly and horribly generic. When the move to Dallas was announced by (that @$$&%$#) then-team owner Norm Green, it all made sense. Al Shaver, who had been the franchise's TV play-by-play man for years, said, "I should have known. You can be the Stars anywhere. You can only be the North Stars here in Minnesota." Understandably, he didn't make the move south to Dallas with the team.

Granted, I'm not the most objective observer, but I still think the Kelly Green and White uniforms is the best hockey uniform ever. The vintage jersey that I own now is, next to my wedding ring, one of my most prized possessions. Perhaps it's because it symbolizes so much of my childhood (or at least the parts I haven't erased from my memory).

There is another team in Minnesota now, the Wild (yeah, and what the HELL is up with that name, eh??). I wish them well, and I will root for them come playoff time, even at the expense of the Dallas Stars. Even so, my heart will allow be in Met Center watching my North Stars- even if Met Center IS nothing but a shopping mall on steroids.

Ironically, I'm now about the same distance from Dallas that I was from Mpls-St. Paul when I was growing up. The Stars play in the new American Airlines Center, a playpen that Norm Green couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams. I can still watch the Stars on television now and then, but it's not the same. I still miss the Kelly Green....

blog comments powered by Disqus

Technorati

Technorati search

» Blogs that link here

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Jack Cluth published on February 8, 2004 6:16 AM.

What is really important here? Defeating Bush or assuaging Nader's ego? was the previous entry in this blog.

Want to put something fun between your legs? Buy a bicycle. is the next entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.

Contact Me

Powered by Movable Type 5.12