On Frozen Blog

I had objectives to meet on business in Minneapolis-St. Paul this week, but the one I coveted most was meeting a local who could happy hour¬†chat me through a bit of the State of Hockey’s passion for puck. I’d read a lot about it over the years, but I wanted a real live, first-hand testimonial of it, unhurried, over a couple of beers. Minneapolis native Paul Wallerius, in his youth an accomplished local scholastic hockey player, and today a successful businessman and the youth hockey coach to a team that includes his 10-year-old son (“been in skates for seven of his ten years,” he told me), gave me just that this week.
The first important Minnesota hockey history lesson Wallerius imparted to me was an appreciation for the rivalry that Minneapolis has with twin town St. Paul. St. Paul, he told me, has purposely and strategically used hockey to better its prestige in the rivalry. Minneapolis is home to the Twins, Vikings, and Timberwolves. It’s fairly horded the pro sports teams over the years. But the North Stars, Wallerius pointed out, left the Minneapolis suburb of Bloomington, and since 2000, St. Paul has been home to the Wild, where every game they’ve ever played has been sold out at the Xcel Energy Center. St. Paul and Xcel are also home to the state’s famous high school hockey tournament. St. Paul made an aggressive attempt to lure the Twins out of Minneapolis and into a new outdoor baseball stadium slated to open in 2010, but ultimately Minneapolis won the siting.
Minnesota I learned is home to some fifteen thousand lakes. Glaciers which visited the upper Midwest region tens of thousand of years ago are responsible for many of them. It seems fitting that an Ice Age would prove to be the wellspring of the terrain for the State of Hockey.
Wallerius wanted me to make a stop at Tom Reid’s Hockey City Pub, also in St. Paul. Just two blocks from the Xcel Center, it’s a modest museum for Minnesota hockey. On the day I walked over to it from the arena the high temperature in the two cities was 67 degrees, under an indigo blue sky. Very hockey weather for early September. Tom Reid was a defenseman for the North Stars back in the day. He also works¬†radio broadcasts for Wild games. His hockey pub is home to fairly forgettable pub food but worth the visit just to admire the breadth of memorabilia smartly scattered over the pub’s brick walls.
About Xcel Center: it’s a world-class hockey venue, but it’s also home to its own museum celebrating Minnesota hockey. Its most distinctive feature for me was the Jersey Wall: the sweaters of nearly 200 Minnesota high school teams showcased on a club level. They are like individual flags forming a very United Hockey Nation. They are beautiful to behold — the moreso as no Reebok uniform systems are found among them. The arena also showcases exhibits from the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame, and high-profile hockey headlines published decades ago in the St. Paul Pioneer Press are plastered on arena pillars.
A fairly significant moment occurred late last year when Sports Illustrated conferred the title of ‘Hockeytown’ on St. Paul, in response to Detroit’s tepid attendance at games for a great Wings’ team. The Minneapolis Star Tribune, in covering the development, noted that while St. Paul’s claims to the title are impressive, it may only be the second-best¬†Minnesota community for the designation. Warroad, Minnesota, 400 miles to the north, is another well-credentialed claimant. Still, the major magazine’s designation of St. Paul is no trivial matter in the State of Hockey. Hockeytown, State of Hockey, would be a very cool postal address to have. I could retire there.
I pointed out to my new hockey friend that I was greatly anticipating the screening of ‘Pond Hockey,’ the new documentary crafted by Minnesotans Tommy Haines and Andrew Sherbrune. He hadn’t seen it, but he wasn’t surprised by its production by two Hockey Staters.
‘Pond Hockey’ chronicles the formation of the first annual U.S. Pond Hockey Championships, and while set in Minneapolis, it has fast become a state-wide source of enormous pride, Wallerius told me. “It’s only a couple of years old,” he noted, “but it draws teams literally from around the world.”
My new hockey friend asked me what likelihood there was that I could make a return visit to his city for the big party on the big frozen lake.
“Strong,” I replied.
He smiled. He wants to host me for it. I can’t wait for the¬†season’s ice age to return.