On Frozen Blog

It was out with the old (forever) to make room for the new Saturday at Kettler Capitals Iceplex, as the Caps hosted a sale of pretty much everything having to do with the uniforms and gear and other branded wear they’ve worn the past 10 years. Hundreds of fans turned out and clogged check-out aisles from 1:30-4:00. Dozens of Caps’ staffers were on duty to make the fan frenzy as efficient as possible — and they were all needed. There were locker room nameplates available for $5 and $10, seemingly hundreds of player sticks lined on a wall, at really good bargains relative to their common quotes at online outlets, and game-worn sweaters that in certain Russian instances fetched $1,000 each.

I used the occasion as a excuse to drive down sun-splashed George Washington Parkway with my Wrangler’s top down, and without much in the way of a shopping agenda. Still, I tucked a few hundred dollars in my billfold; I’m not what you’d call a disciplined or restrained (or discriminating, for that matter) shopper in a room stuffed with genuine NHL merchandise.

I did have one merchandise target in mind, knowing that the team was offloading gear dating back all the way to 1996: the old and, in my judgment, vastly under-appreciated road blue sweaters. In those rare instances when footage of the ‘98 Stanley Cup finals is shown, with the Caps skating in Detroit, those blues look beautiful, stark and stylish and unlike any other sweater. I never understood why they were ditched as decisively as they were, and when I see them I think back not only to the finals that year but especially to Dale Hunter holding the Prince of Wales trophy in Buffalo in it in the preceding round. For me, they’re the glory threads, and I wanted to see if any authentically worn ones were available at Saturday’s sale.

To their credit, the Caps invited season ticket holders to get first access to the gear Saturday before the general public sale. That’s positively appropriate. By 1:30, however, there didn’t appear to be much damage done. Nearly a half dozen racks were teeming with practice and game sweaters, whites and blacks, all in terrific shape. Oh, and there were a few Glory Blues. I was swept up enough in nostalgia upon happening upon the blues that I seized a J.F. Fortin (that’s nostalgia . . . or amnesia!). J.F. had a habit of wowing the spectator at the odd Piney Orchard scrimmage in September and then making everyone wonder why he was ever drafted a month later. Fashioning an allegiance to him to the tune of $150 would be difficult to explain to my family, friends, and readers, but in my initial pass-through of the blue portion of the sweater racks J.F. managed to loom large (size 58).

I had one final rack to peruse, and within it I found an astounding relic: a Yogi Svejkovsky, in blue! I returned J.F. and seized Yogi. Now, Yogi’s star as an NHLer was as brief and forgettable at Fortin’s, except in two regards: he scored 4 goals in the final game of the 1996-97 season, at Buffalo, and that game happened to be the last in the broadcast career of Ron Weber. Talk about nostalgia.

I was surprised at the generally modest interest fans Saturday seemed to have in securing the sweaters of the past 10 years. I thought $150 for a pristine conditioned game-worn a solid buy. And while I number among those who won’t miss the black garb, again, these logos and their colors ushered in some of our team’s finest moments. More than an hour into the public sale Saturday, though, the racks remained filled with the game-worns and practice threads. Perhaps for many there remains too much association with the Czech Fraud who wore #68, and the years of missed playoffs. How could you fault them for that discrimination? And of course this month there is the hockey fan’s zealous anticipation of the replacement look arriving in mere days.

OrderedChaos snagged a few game-worn jerseys (sans nameplate), a game-used Alexander Semin stick, Chris Clark’s equipment bag, and a practice jersey worn by just-signed Caps’ goalie prospect Michal Neuvirth. Let’s hope Neuvirth is indeed a Caps’ starter some day — the Jakub Cutta Czech Juniors jersey he purchased a few years back hasn’t seen much wear.

One thing you definitely notice at the Caps’ annual equipment sale: products belonging to names from a middling, mediocre recent past blended seamlessly with those of the fresh-start and optimistic present. But that’s hockey.

Confession: I picked up more than just the Svejkovsky sweater Saturday (has a nice alliterative ring to it, no?) I don’t play much organized hockey these days, but my gear bag is always packed and ready for action. For two years now I’ve been badly in need of replacement pants, and at Kettler Saturday, amid an embarrassment of riches of un-nicked, mega-padded pants-wear, I replaced my existing pair-in-tatters. I tossed in a new helmet, too. As my arms filled I looked across at the Kettler sheets of ice to see if pickup puck was readying, cause I was near dressed for it.

This gear sale event has grown into an event remarkable in terms of Caps’ staff logistics and sheer volume of merchandise. True story: my father and I were buying gear from the Caps back before there was any public sale. Back in the ’80s we used to drive the family station wagon out to Cap Centre in spring about a week after the season concluded, met up with Sluggo at the old building’s service elevator, and filled the family car up with hockey goodies my father would re-sell (at cost) to players in the fledgling Montgomery Men’s hockey league he founded.

The Caps may well make a boatload of bucks with this affair, but what seems more important to me is the availability of the armor. Sunday of course is Father’s Day. I wager a few in this region will be unwrapping some vestiges of the past decade of puck in D.C. then. They just won’t have any reminders of the 4-goal flash-in-the-pan of the past.