The NHL’s new Utah franchise is searching for its team name. And in this feature story from The Hockey News’ Sept. 23, 2003 edition (Volume 57, Issue 4), actor and comedian Denis Leary wrote an exclusive story on his suggestions for NHL franchise names.
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Writing in the wake of the New Jersey Devils winning the 2003-03 Stanley Cup, Lears gave his customary searing indictment of some of the NHL’s teams – most notably, the Anaheim Mighty Ducks, who would eventually drop the “Mighty” from their name. It just didn’t come quickly enough for Leary’s liking.
“Look, duck, for me, is a menu item I immediately skip over,” Leary wrote. “But I’ve seen ducks. I’ve seen a lotta ducks and “Mighty” is not the adjective that comes to mind. Puffy? Yes. Plump? Yup. Messy, smelly, rotund – I could go on and on.
“The NHL has reduced fans like me to screaming bloody murder in support of a team named after fat, stupid birds. A team borne from the loins of a box-office hit starring Emilio Estevez – whose only relationship to the word “skate” is a fish entree he ordered in an L.A. bistro 17 years ago.”
Leary had more suggestions as well, including having teams get away from teal and purple and having more black uniforms.
“I don’t wanna find myself sitting in front of a plasma wall 10 years from now forced into rooting for the Atlanta Geese. Who, by the way, are wearing sky blue, faded rust and fuchsia uniforms.”
LEARY: TOUGHEN TEAM NAMES!
By Denis Leary
Happy now? The Devils. Again. Great.
After my beloved Bruins got knocked out of the Lord Stanley hunt last year, I latched onto the Detroit Old Wings, ‘cause I love to watch the senior set outsmart the fast, but witless youngsters. Plus, Detroit appeared to be a lock. Until, of course, one week into the playoffs.
Then I had to pick an underdog and was still making up my mind when-bam! It’s final time and who do I get stuck rooting for? The Mighty Ducks.
My dear God.
Let’s forget the “of Anaheim” addendum. They could be the Mighty Ducks of New York or the Mighty Ducks of Gibraltar or the Mighty Ducks of Cabo San Luca for all I care. The problem is definitely not the “of” or the “Anaheim”. The problem is the “Mighty” part.
Look, duck, for me, is a menu item I immediately skip over. It’s a brief stop on the way to chicken or beef. That’s as close as duck gets to being on my radar.
But I’ve seen ducks. I’ve seen a lotta ducks and “Mighty” is not the adjective that comes to mind.
Puffy? Yes. Plump? Yup. Messy, smelly, rotund – I could go on and on.
The NHL has reduced fans like me to screaming bloody murder in support of a team named after fat, stupid birds. A team borne from the loins of a box-office hit starring Emilio Estevez – whose only relationship to the word “skate” is a fish entree he ordered in an L.A. bistro 17 years ago.
On top of which, said team’s uniform includes the color teal. I’m sorry, but from the day the color teal was invented it has been – and always will be – on the effeminate end of the paint palette.
That’s my problem now. Teams are being given very limp-wristed names. My team is called the Bruins. Even if you don’t know they’re named after a member of the bear family, the word “Bruin” conjures up images of bruises and brewing and low, guttural “ooh” sounds and it – well, it just sounds like trouble.
The Rangers – they sound like they’re riding into town on horseback to kick ass and take down names. The Blackhawks? You don’t want them at your family barbecue.
I think the Oilers are getting off the plane with wrenches and jackhammers. The Blues apparently come to the rink in a very bad mood. The Canadiens? They treat themselves in a very royal and regal manner so you are already beneath them.
And don’t point to the Maple Leafs or Red Wings as soft names. The Leafs have a national legacy behind them and the Wings-hey, you tell Gordie Howe, Ted Lindsay and Brendan Shanahan their team’s name isn’t tough (and collect your teeth from the floor as you exit the building).
But even outside the Original Six and expansion and the World Hockey Association, it’s not impossible to come up with a good, old-fashioned, non-effeminate team tag.
The Predators have cool colors and a hot logo. They sound like a bunch of country-music outlaws on a bender coming into town to sing all night and party with your teenage daughter. Pretty scary.
But the Blue Jackets? Lemme think, it’s either guys from Ohio sporting blue blazers or a cute little, what? A bee? We’re naming teams after insects? Have we totally exhausted the animal kingdom?
The Minnesota Wild? C’mon. Wild what? It’s a state fulla snow. So is Colorado. At least “Avalanche” gives you a jolt — it’s based on an actual event. Mounds and mounds of snow that crush and smother you. That’s a name you don’t forget.
I’m old enough to remember the California Golden Seals. Forget the fact the ocean has never burped up a seal anywhere near the color of gold. Forget the fact the word seal rhymes with teal and is its immediate predecessor on the effeminate paint palette.
We need more black and less purple. And where are the “Nails” and “Trucks” and “Tornadoes”? How about the Ice Cold Beers of Baltimore? Think of the marketing possibilities.
The Tumors of Toledo. The Oregon Volcanic Eruptions. See, here we embrace both the medical and disaster-relief communities.
And my final offering: The Bitter Bastards of Buffalo. No one knows what a Sabre is anymore. And the people of this great, second-class town think the current cartoon logo sucks. Truth is, they’ve never won the Cup and all the good players leave (Hasek, LaFontaine, etc., etc.,) because it’s ball-busting cold from September 2nd until the third of July. I’ve been in Buffalo bars after the Sabres get eliminated. Believe me, there are plenty of bitter bastards to go around.
Let’s change it up, Gary. I don’t wanna find myself sitting in front of a plasma wall 10 years from now forced into rooting for the Atlanta Geese.
Who, by the way, are wearing sky blue, faded rust and fuchsia uniforms.
Real men. Real names. No more teal. See ya.
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