Duane Says: What Happened to My Team?

BY: DUANE A. STEINEL

Do you remember how exciting this team used to be? Some of you might not but I do.

Even before those teams from 2005-09 that were just special, I hold the teams from the late ’90s to early 2000s closer to my heart. Guys like Pat Lafontaine, Rob Ray, Brian Holzinger, Derek Plante, Mike Peca, Stu Barnes, and most of all Dominik Hasek are why I fell in love with this team. You see, the Buffalo Sabres weren’t just a team for me. They were an introduction to playing competitive sports.

I played baseball but wasn’t very good and quite honestly never had a real love for a professional team until I turned 19. I started playing hockey in the streets of Buffalo. I idolized Hasek, and kids always needed someone to play goalie. I wasn’t the best at making friends, so it was my way of finding relationships with other kids, even though I felt awkward and quite honestly depressed. But boy, could I play the position. Strap on the Mylec pads, a Sabres starter jacket for a chest protector, and a Sabres jersey over it. Baseball mitt for a glove and franklin blocker, I was really good. So that would lead to kids always calling my house asking me to play, which felt great. 

The love for this team would also lead to playing ice hockey when I turned 11. Without them, I would have never started playing, or later on in life coaching. They helped open so many doors to friendships, some of which I still have today. Again, even later on in life, I was awkward and had issues making friends. Even in high school. The Buffalo Sabres and hockey were always providing opportunities for me to develop relationships with people. It’s a big reason why I love them as passionately as I do. Because sometimes, when you have nothing else, they were always a constant. They were still there.

They were working their asses off to win for me and this city. I’d see people wearing a jersey, shirt, or hat, and I’d use it as an opportunity to strike up a conversation about the team I loved so much. Maybe find out if they played hockey, and I’d say, “Hey, well, if you ever need a goalie or wanna watch a game, here’s my number.”

It felt good and gave me a reason not to feel so low at times, even after last night when the Sabres had every excuse in the book to lose. Two weeks off, missing players, three minor league players on defense, and not having your head coach for 13 days to lead practice or meetings, we had reasons not to feel bad if they lost.

Earlier in the day, I had Steve “Dangle” Glynn on my show “2 Goalies 1 Mic”, and he too is insanely passionate about his Toronto Maple Leafs. We both are, in a way, cut from that same cloth. He on a much bigger scale than I, but the significance is still the same. We love and identify with our teams. One thing that was said during this interview that rings true and loud was that there are moments where you realize that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. That there are no silver linings, and the optimism is gone. When you realize that your team is going nowhere, that they won’t make the playoffs, or if they do, it’ll just end quickly and in some familiar and insufferable way. 

Last season, I think that moment was the night of the Ottawa game that would ultimately lead to the “Rant.” Sitting there as a season ticket holder, next to my sister, who was to no fault of her own ignorant to the suffering I was going through. She was just there because we’d never been to a game together, and she just didn’t care that much for hockey as I do.

I sat there, realizing we just wasted another year of Eichel’s contract. Another year that would end with no playoff berth. Another year burned off Rasmus Dahlin’s entry-level contract. Another year of mediocrity and nothing to look forward to but another high draft pick. Another year of feeling like the owners just didn’t care about anything but taking my money for a terrible product on the ice in a very unkempt arena. 

It’s such a deflating feeling. It’s depressing, significantly, when a lot of your life growing up depended on this team. It may sound pathetic, but it’s true. I identified with this team, and they helped me through a lot. They gave me friendships, things to talk about, and something to look forward to when I didn’t have much else. Tonight, I got close to feeling like that again, even though I had all the reasons listed earlier to not feel like that.

 The rant was never just about a bad on-ice product, an arena that feels outdated, or the lack of attention to fans. It was also about those feelings of acceptance this team gave me growing up with other kids. That I had a way to relate to them, become friends, and leave my house to play a game of one-on-one take back up to five, or 3-on-3 with two goalies until it was too dark to see the ball. It was a reason not to feel like an outsider and had something to talk about at the lunch table or on the bus in the morning. In many ways, this team saved me from very dark times in my childhood and teenage years. I look at what this franchise has become, and it breaks my heart that kids who are going through what I did won’t have this team as an outlet the way I did to make friends or join a conversation and feel like your opinion matters. 

What happened to my team? Why is the passion gone? I understand that “winning solves everything,” but it’s not even just that. I remember times in the past when we struggled but still appreciated the effort. We looked at the players and knew, they were skating their asses off and giving us everything they have, and we showed a great appreciation for that.

We were once deemed “The Hardest Working Team in Hockey.” We’d show up to the arena in hard hats, signifying that blue-collar attitude. We wore our jerseys to school with pride. Collected hockey cards and played street hockey while wearing those favorite jerseys. You just don’t see that anymore.

Instead, you see kids wearing jerseys of other teams. You see them wearing Ovechkin, Crosby, Panarin, Kane, or McDavid jerseys. While I don’t blame them for wanting to wear superstar players’ jerseys because their team has done nothing but lose for most of their lives, but for me, that’s insulting. I would have never been caught dead wearing a Sidney Crosby jersey. The Sabres were then and still are my team. But the culture is just so different.

The word is used a lot; culture. You might hear a coach from any team say, “We brought this guy because he brings with him a winning culture to the locker room”. That’s true, culture is so influential both on and off the ice, and I feel the culture of this fanbase is beginning to flatline. Optimism, even at the beginning of a season where you sign a player like Taylor Hall and trade for Eric Staal, was cautious. I listen to certain media personalities and when I used to look forward to opinion pieces or radio segments, I cringe at the thought of another cliche question like “What do you think went wrong out there?” or “What do you need to do better?”. The last time we got a real honest answer from a player, those same media personalities helped run him out of town. Pretty sure he found his love for the game when he raised the Stanley Cup one year later.

This past year, just like for many, was very difficult. Because of the pandemic, I went from coaching two different programs as a lead goalie coach to no longer having a role with either organization. I haven’t played with my friends on our men’s league team in over a year and haven’t played at all in six months. So I really looked forward to this Sabres season. As an escape from what has been a very dark year.

I remember going through the horror of the October Storm in 2006 when my family had no power, a thousand downed tree branches in our front and back yard, and no real answer when normalcy would return. During all that, I remember listening to the Sabres play the Detroit Red Wings on an AM/FM radio at the kitchen table by candlelight. Buffalo, lead by Ryan Miller, went on to beat the Red Wings 3-2 in a shootout, and it gave the city a moment of joy and reasons to smile, even though the world had made our own lives a living hell for close to a month.

I beg for moments like that now, but with tonight’s performance, moments like that seem like they might be few and far between. I hope Jack Eichel and company can prove me wrong. Just give me anything to feel good about. Some kind of spark. A reason to hope again and feel proud to be a Sabres fan. But regardless, not that you care, I’ll always love you guys. Just please give me your best. That’s all I ask. 

Thanks, everyone….I’ll hang up and listen

For live updates and breaking news, follow Trainwreck Sports, Crossing Swords or 2 Goalies 1 Mic on Twitter or subscribe to our YouTube channel

The Sports Desk can be reached at editorialtrainwrecksports@gmail.com