Are we talking about 1999, really?
I mean, those were the days, and I‘m looking at you, Czech folks... We weren‘t looking back then, were we? The sky was (NOT) a limit. We had the best forward, the best goalie, the best NT on the planet. (There could have been cases made for some other guys, but we surely felt those cases were all phoney, and in retrospect, we were right.)
A couple of our players went among the top five on the draft. Looking back, when had been the last time it‘d happened?
1990... Nedved at number 2, Jagr at number 5. Look what decade had skated from there. We surely weren‘t feeling like peaking in ‘99, were we?
At least I didn‘t feel so. I was sixteen. Seventeen was ahead of me still.
With how our players born in the eighties ranked in the drafts 1998 and 1999, I never thought the nullties were gonna be so lukewarm for us, let alone that my generation, the eighties-born-buggers, would turn into such frustrating hangover after that splendid party. It was like enjoying the best coffee from a magic mug that promised no dregs endings, suddenly hitting a mire.
For the people who re-bemock that particular draft, the Sedins were HYPED. Not just because there was so many of them at once. Especially Daniel was considered a gem (or was it Henrik? I think NA and Europe saw them differently unless they agreed on Daniel), and if you had a guy like Marty Havlat -- who radiated talent -- going so late in the first round (him staying in the CR played a role, but not sooo big by then), there‘s no way you can -- so wise and confident and witty now -- re-write the draft off as something everyone knew was a turkey even then. Brendl ought to have been blessed with the best hands and shot since (I need a little help here, but I think he was thought of as a cross between Brett Hull and Robitaille or something).
Stefan? Oh yeah, him. Both funny and sad, and full of irony.
To my shock (I‘ll explain later), a couple of months prior to the draft, Paddy was compared to Forsberg.
You didn‘t joke about Foppa back then. In terms of numbers, he may now look like Ron Francis or Doug Weight, but in actual presence, Forsberg was the one to turn the game around when you were down by three, scoring three himself and adding three assists on another, mainly so his ‘mates don‘t whine he‘s sooo selfish (he actually did that very spring against the Panthers). Forsberg was the one to sustain and give away all the crap, looking like a pissed off husky with those polar eyes of his, and by ‘99, even with Sakic and Fleury and all that wing depth the Avs had, with Roy in the net, you knew he was gonna be your best player by the Cup time, simply because he had been made for the play-offs. With all THAT skill and with that rugged look he began to sport in ‘98, having pushed the clean, baby Forsberg behind, just like he couldn‘t his upper teeth, he had dried blood in that beard at times, and it was a testament to what everyone knew; the man didn‘t mind dirt, he liked blood, and by the semis in the wild wild west by the late nineties, you had a lot of both. By the semis back then, you were at war. Whoever won that war went on to enjoy a nice chill out and a peaceful massage by all those geishas from the far East and then had the Cup handed to them.
So if scouts compared Stefan‘s vision, determination and ability to take nasty play to that of Peter‘s, since by then, Forsberg was considered better than Lindros had ever been, even if
you take that pre-draft talk with a grain of salt or you just sweep it away as a hogwash, you can‘t say Stefan was rated any lower than, I know some will protest, but: Thornton in ‘97 -- there you go, eat it!
And since Joe hadn‘t set the league on fire and had actually been humbled by his hobbit-like-tall-though-stocky rookie teammate, if, in ‘99, someone said Stefan was gonna be better than Joe by a margin much bigger than the one between Peter and Eric, there wouldn‘t have been too many doubters this was very true (I guess).
Uh-uh, Stefan was not considered one of the weaker number ones. He was thought to be one of the stars for the new millenium and the Thrashers planned to build their franchise around him. He was thought to be the sort of player who was gonna make his wingers look much better than they were. Ironically, it was the wingers the Thrashers drafted after him who made Stefan look as mediocre as he was. By 2003 at the latest, everyone knew he was never gonna be (even) very good. Three years later, sans the greatest goal no-one ever scored, I would barely remember him. And yet, while everyone talks about the missed EN, it was not just that slip-up; it was the goal Hemsky scored right after that made Stefan look like a guy who should have aimed... at science instead of sports. It was all irony with him.
Not sure how much he was hampered by the concussions (I must admit forgetting about those, but now that I got reminded, yeah, they were talked about and they caused worries), but having seen a lot, I can‘t remember a single player who underwent one and came back the same. The better the player, the more finesse-relying, the more refined, the more that cursed injury appears to ruin them. (Even Sid. He still puts up numbers, but there was more to him before his brains shook.) Concussions look to annihilate flair as bad as knee injuries destroy speed.
Yet, I never thought Stefan was that good in the first place.
At sixteen, he scored a play-off goal for Sparta Prague, in a league where no forty-somethings won scoring titles yet. I remember the commentator‘s remark the goal was most likely a lucrative opener for the teenager and perhaps the last he would score for Sparta. I thought he was wrong (about that goal laying a red carpet for Paddy to hop all the way to Hollywood), for the goal was lucky and Stefan was invisible, but the man was right as the boy would be shipped soon after.
Which is where we go full circle.
A lucky goal can puff up a bubble so big it may take an extremely unlucky no-goal for it to burst into a soapy dew. After that brief interim, it‘s quite a revelation: there‘s nothing in the bubble!
The person who said Paddy never played in any WJC is wrong. He did. It‘s just that Radek Duda did better than him. Who‘s Radek Duda? Ah (there you go), just another of those Czech buggers born in the eighties. Those whom Patrik Stefan seems to epitomise so well. Those who should have peaked in the 00‘s. And they did, creating void. The thing is, with Stefan, unlike with many of his Czech contemporaries (hey there, Radek!), I never felt he mailed it in or underachieved. The opposite. Sad, weird and ironic.
Which reminds me, it‘s been a couple of days since, at 44, some Marty Rucinsky officially hung them up for good (sure you want Jags to be the only one scoring with his crutch? You‘d better leave the rest home backdoor unlatched, Marty). Never too much hype, no „star“ aura, no hubris; soft-spoken, humble, classy, and his resume skates circles around the one of all the Czech „first-rounders“ from ‘99 combined.
