A post at The Cheap Seats
by Rob Visconti

After 22 seasons with the Detroit Red Wings, Steve Yzerman retired Monday from the National Hockey League. He leaves hockey with a sparkling resume and the utmost respect of the players with whom he shared the ice and the fans who watched him play, and he leaves Detroit–the city as well as its hockey franchise–with a gaping hole, located just a little bit below the “C” that adorned his jersey for the past 20 seasons.

On a personal note, his announcement didn’t leave me feeling sad. It just left me feeling just a little bit older, having seen the last of an extraordinary group of athletes whose careers started when I was a kid, guys who I grew up watching and admiring, guys who played their entire careers in Detroit. One by one I’ve watched them hang ‘em up–Sweet Lou and Tram, Joe D. and Isaiah, Barry Sanders and, finally, last, but certainly not least, The Captain.

It was, by any measure, an extraordinary career.

Yzerman scored 692 goals and tallied 1,063 assists in 1,514 regular-season games, and he added 70 goals and 115 assists in 190 career playoff games. His honors include a spot on the 1983-84 NHL All-Rookie Team, the 1989 Lester B. Pearson Award, the 1998 Conn Smythe Trophy, the 2000 Selke Trophy and the 2003 Bill Masterson Trophy. He was named to 10 NHL All-Star Teams, and played a key role in Team Canada’s gold medal at the 2002 Olympics. And, of course, to the undying gratitude of Detroit hockey fans, he led the Red Wings to Stanley Cup championships in 1997, 1998 and 2002.

In three years he will undoubtedly and deservedly be enshrined in the Hockey Hall of Fame.

But Steve Yzerman’s career was about much more than statistics, accolades and championships. It will ultimately be defined by his approach to the game, his class, his determination, his grit and his will to persevere, whether exemplified by the way he fought for every face-off, every loose puck, every inch of ice, or by his refusal to allow a laundry list of injuries, both major and minor, to dim his passion for the game.

Yzerman will be remembered for how he transformed himself, with a just a bit of–ahem–gentle prodding from Scotty Bowman, from a standout offensive player who couldn’t quite get over the playoff hump, to one of hockey’s best two-way forwards. From the guy who allegedly couldn’t win, to one of the most admired leaders in sports, and a three-time Stanley Cup champion.

We tuned in yesterday to hear him say goodbye, but to no surprise for those of us who watched his career in its entirety, Yzerman seemed least comfortable at his farewell press conference when speaking about himself, and most comfortable when speaking about the people, who, in his estimation, made it possible for him, over the past 23 years, to live his childhood dream.

Yzerman acknowledged everyone from coaches to fans to media to family, but it seemed that he was most earnest when speaking about the players–those he played alongside and those he competed against, those who played before him and those who will follow in his footsteps. His comments illustrated how, throughout his career, he respected the game and respected the men who play it. And that, I think, is why he is held in such high esteem throughout hockey.

Other folks may have hoped to see Yzerman return for one last season, a pre-determined farewell tour. But that wouldn’t have been the Steve Yzerman way. Instead he chose to step modestly aside on a Monday afternoon, with no regrets, and when he did, he took an era with him.

It was an era that I consider myself privileged to have witnessed, he was a player that I consider myself privileged to have watched. Someday, if I’m lucky, I’ll take a son or daughter to a Wings game, and I’ll point to the number 19 hanging from the rafters, and, boy, will I have some stories to share.

Thanks, Captain, for all the moments, and for all of the memories.

See ya in the rafters.