Broken Cigars

Two years ago today – April 24, 2010 – the Pittsburgh Penguins defeated the Ottawa Senators on the road in Game 6 to advance past the first round of the NHL playoffs.  The Penguins soon became the highest seeded team remaining in the East, and their next opponent was the 8^th-seeded Montreal Canadiens.  A third consecutive appearance in the Stanley Cup Finals seemed almost inevitable for the defending champs.

At that moment, the Penguins – a bona fide juggernaunt with a core of playoff-tested young stars approaching their prime – were the closest thing you could find, in any of the four major professional sports, to a burgeoning dynasty.

They haven’t won a playoff series since.

When they lost that 2010 series to Montreal in seven games, it was considered one of the worst postseason disappointments in team history, on par with losses in 1993 (to an equally inferior Islanders team) and 1975 (also to the Islanders, who won four straight after being down 3-0 in the series).  Now, there is one more letdown that will forever be in the discussion.

While the 2012 playoffs have so far been rife with ignominious performances – the Presidents’ Trophy-winning Vancouver Canucks are already gone, and the top-seeded New York Rangers or the defending champion Boston Bruins could soon follow – the Penguins have been disgraced like no other.  At the hands of their most bitter rival, they were outhustled, out-coached, out-gunned, and – in a role reversal nothing short of astonishing – outclassed.

Yes, that was the Penguins getting skittish with the lead, playing sloppy defense, losing their composure, letting in easy goals, and failing to capitalize on their opponent’s mistakes.  Yes, that was the Penguins turning Game 3 into a WWE slugfest, starting multiple mini-brawls, delivering dangerous cheap shots all over the ice, and generally embarrassing the organization and their fans.  Yes, that was the Penguins who couldn’t stop a power play, who couldn’t get a big save, who couldn’t deliver the momentum-swinging moment they so desperately needed.

Even after partially saving face by winning two games and nearly tipping the series, the Penguins were shaken to their very core by this upset.  Philly’s rookies got under their skin.  Philly’s veterans made them look silly.  Philly’s stars completely outplayed Evgeni Malkin and Sidney Crosby.  Pittsburgh’s defense and special teams were historically and humiliatingly futile.  Marc-Andre Fleury was in net for 17 periods in the series and played well in only four of them.  And finally, in what may be the cruelest twist of all, two of the Penguins all-time playoff heroes – Max Talbot and Jaromir Jagr – played key roles in delivering one of the worst playoff defeats this franchise will ever know.

It took just 10 days for the Penguins to go from Stanley Cup favorites to first-round losers, a collapse so sudden and unexpected that it might drastically alter the future of the team.  Not in the typical way, either:  The core isn’t going to be blown up, the coach won’t be fired, and the team next year, more or less, will look the same.  But never again will the Penguins of Crosby and Malkin be given the benefit of the doubt.   Never again will we say, “They’ll be unstoppable if they can get just get healthy.”  Never again will coach Dan Bylsma get a free pass.  Sure, a deep run in the Stanley Cup playoffs will still be an annual expectation.  But the honeymoon is officially over, or, as Mike Lange might say, Elvis has just left the building.

Now, the Pens face a painfully long summer, one that could be even longer if the NHL can’t decide on a new CBA.  It’s an offseason in which Big Decisions loom.  New contracts are coming due sooner rather than later.  The defense must be shored up.  Leadership is in demand.  Though the faces will largely remain the same, something with this team must change.

Perhaps when the final narrative is written on the Crosby-Malkin Penguins, the last three years will be outliers, hiccups on the bumpy path to greater glory.  Maybe Kris Letang, Brooks Orpik, Fleury and others will regain the playoff prowess that once made them champions.  Maybe Malkin and Crosby will become the unstoppable duo they once were.  But the Penguins don’t need to look far to find a stark warning of what can happen when success is taken for granted.

In the early 90s, the Penguins won two Stanley Cups behind a core of young stars, a high-octane offense, a cast of reliable defensemen, and an elite – if eccentric – goalie.  Many saw them as a burgeoning dynasty.  With a third Cup run seemingly inevitable, they lost a second-round series to an inferior opponent in 7 games.

Sound familiar?

You know the rest:  A string of too-early playoff exits.  One last run (1996) with the remnants of a great team.  One final chance (2001) before things completely disintegrated.  The Penguins of yesterday won two Cups but never got back.  What will become of the Penguins of today?  After their latest postseason breakdown, the tide of uncertainty is rising fast.

***This article was originally published by Faceoff Factor on 3/31/12***

If you can cut through all the knee-jerk gloom-and-doom regarding the Penguins ugly and mildly alarming 2-game losing streak – No heart!  No effort!  The defense  stinks!  Bench Fleury!  Bylsma can’t figure out the lines! – you’ll realize that, in about a week, this home-and-home with the Islanders will be long forgotten.  Their previous 11-game winning streak will likewise be meaningless.  It won’t matter where they are in everyone’s pointless power rankings.

What matters is that the Penguins are playing with (mostly) a full deck for the first time in nearly 2 calendar years.  During this time there have been flashes of brilliance, an unfinished portrait leaving us to wonder what might have been.   If only Sidney Crosby hadn’t missed a season-and-a-half.  If only Marc-Andre Fleury had been more consistent.  If only Evgeni Malkin, Jordan Staal, Kris Letang and others hadn’t missed huge chunks of games with injuries.  If only they could get a winger for Sid.  If only everyone could all get healthy at the same time.  If only.

With postseason hockey fast approaching, the Penguins have come full circle:  healthy, deep, battle-tested, playoff-ready.  This has created a wave of new, soaring expectations that can’t be stifled by a couple late-season losses.  Even after their rough week, many consider the Penguins to be among the strongest contenders for the Stanley Cup.  Some locals are already comparing this year’s team to the vaunted 1992-93 squad that won the President’s Trophy with 119 points and is widely considered to be the Penguins’ best team ever.  But this may an unwanted association – the 92-93 Pens flamed out two rounds early on their inevitable run to the Cup.

Perhaps it’s wise for the Penguins to draw on their most recent playoff exit, in 2010, when they flamed out two rounds early on their inevitable run to the Cup.  This was the last time they were fully healthy and in sync, and, just like in 1993, they lost a winnable series to an inferior team.  Surely this disappointment – the biggest failure of the Sidney Crosby-era Penguins – is fresh in the mind of a team who is once again primed for a long spring.

***

Of course, no discussion of the Penguins’ spring fever is complete without adding the rather large caveat which is by now almost reflexive:  if only they can stay healthy.  And by they, we generally mean Pittsburgh’s three stars:  Malkin, Fleury, and that other guy who.  The loss of any puts a huge damper on any visions of a second Stanley Cup in four seasons.   All three are in the prime of their careers and are playing at a high level.  And considering their recent track record, they should create nightmare matchups for any and all playoff opponents.

–Malkin is playing some of the best hockey of his career, and has recently opened up a 9-point lead on Tampa Bay’s Steven Stamkos for the Art Ross Trophy.  Coming off major knee surgery and two disappointing seasons, Malkin has re-emerged as the best player in the world.  Hardly anyone can matchup with him physically, as he is too fast and quick for bigger defenders, and too powerful for the little guys.  He’s scoring at a clip of 1.43 points per game, best in the league by a wide margin.  With Crosby out for most of the season, #71 has carried the Penguins.  He should easily win the Hart Trophy as league MVP.

–Fleury has seemingly solved what was once his only glaring weakness:  Consistency.  This season, he has been sharp and focused, on track for a career-best GAA.    He rarely allows the soft goals that were once so commonplace.  He’s become more technically sound with his positioning and puck handling, and, just like always, he has a penchant for making big saves in big moments.  He leads the league in wins, and has a decent case for the Vezina Trophy, which will likely go to Henrik Lunquist of the first-place Rangers.

–Crosby has played well since his latest comeback, and his health issues are hopefully behind him.  His skills haven’t diminished at all after his long absences.  He’s taken on more of a distributor-type role, piling up 21 assists in 17 games this season.  He’s only scored 4 goals but still get several good scoring opportunities each game.  Crosby should find the net more as he shakes off the rust, and he should be the freshest guy on the ice in any playoff series.

***

The Penguins have much to envy beyond their star power.  Kris Letang and Brooks Orpik anchor a defense that is solid and disciplined most of the time (again, disregard the past two games, from which Letang and Matt Niskanen were absent).  Forwards Matt Cooke and Pascal Dupius are enjoying career seasons.  James Neal – ironically, the winger we always wanted for Sid – has blossomed on Malkin’s wing; he is 5^th in the league in scoring and 3^rd in goals scored with 37.  Neal, Malkin, and Chris Kunitz form the most dangerous line in hockey.

It’s this line that sets the tone for Pittsburgh’s powerful offense, which leads the NHL in goals scored and trails only the San Jose Sharks in shots on goal.  Their high volume of shots to the net wears down opponents – 40% of the Penguins’ goals have come in the third period.

It’s not just that the Penguins can score, it’s their offensive versatility takes them to another level.  They have 10 shorthanded goals, third-most in the league, and their once-struggling power play now hits at a respectable 19%.  They’ve scored 5 or more goals in 15 games.  And although much of the scoring is concentrated in their top line, the return of Crosby and the continued strong play of guys like Dupuis (currently on a 12-game point streak) and Staal (23 goals on the season) gives the team more balance.

Of course the Penguins have plenty of flaws (see:  last Tuesday and Thursday vs. the Islanders).  The defense is inconsistent and lacksadasical at times.  Their loose puck management sometimes leads to costly turnovers.  Physical teams like Boston and Philadelphia have had success knocking the Penguins off of their freewheeling style.  Their recent 2-game losing skid – have we mentioned they lost to the Islanders?  Twice?  In three days??  – all but guarantees an unfavorable first-round matchup against Philly.

Regardless, the Penguins are well coached and playoff tested.  Sidney Crosby is their 3^rd best player right now.  They’ve lost only 8 times in their past 36 games.  Anything less than an appearance in the Stanley Cup Finals will probably be viewed as a disappointment.  On top of it all hangs the omnipresent dark cloud of a question:  Can they stay healthy?  If only.

The Ultimate Footballer’s Diet Plan

This is posted on behalf of PartyCasino. 

If you are a sports fanatic and you love reading the latest sports news and going to live games, as well as playing football at your local club, then you are sure to be in good shape. Sports like football are physically demanding activities which require a lot upper body strength. After an intense training session, you are sure to feel tired and hungry – this is because your metabolism is working very fast and burning off calories.

The last thing you want to do is to give in to your hunger by pausing your game at de.partycasino.com or your TV show to order Chinese food because you will just be undoing all the good exercise you’ve just completed. If you want to have a lean and fit body like all the professional players have then what you need is a simple and healthy diet plan which is rich in protein. Below is an example menu for maintaining a lean physique which should be combined with your normal training.

Breakfast – Kick start your metabolism in the morning by having a bowl of porridge made up with skimmed milk. Add in a few raisins to sweeten it up. Alternatively, why not have a bowl of unsweetened muesli with skimmed milk and a glass of fresh fruit juice? Carbohydrates provide you with long lasting energy – this energy is slowly released throughout the day.

Lunch- Tuck into a sandwich made with brown or granary bread. Substitute butter for an olive oil based spread and fill your sandwich with lean ham or chicken. Have it with a side salad sprinkled with mixed seeds and a glass of juice. For dessert, opt for a low sugar, low fat yoghurt.

Evening meal – Choose a lean fillet of steak or a skinless chicken breast. Choose a carbohydrate out of boiled rice, new potatoes or sweet potato. You are allowed to have lots of steamed vegetables on the side to fill you up.

He wasn’t particularly tall or fast, yet he was always open.  He played a glamour position with the ferocity and instincts of a linebacker.   He began his career in Pittsburgh at the bottom of the depth chart, and that’s where he found himself when it ended on Wednesday.  In the 14 seasons in between, he set every franchise receiving record, collected two rings and one MVP in three trips to the Super Bowl, redefined his position, and even had a rule named after him.

The Steelers announced yesterday evening that they will be releasing Hines Ward.  The reaction has been swift, and largely predictable:  Most fans are sad to see him go, and most true fans realize that his playing days are pretty much over.  He will be 36 in a few weeks, considered ancient for almost any position outside kicker and punter.  Ward opened last season as a starter, but by the end he became a charity case, as the team deliberately and frantically tried to feed him short passes until he reached the milestone career total of 1,000 receptions.

Ward praised the Steelers organization, the fans and the city in his prepared statement, saying “I gave my heart and soul for you every down and I will always bleed black and gold.”  Ever defiant, he also added that he still wants to play.  In the NFL.  In 2012.  Already, this has evoked painful memories of you-know-who stumbling around in a Seattle Seahawks jersey. 

Now we must ask why the ties were severed.  We know the football reasons:  Ward wasn’t going to be more than a 5^th wide receiver in 2012.  Football is merciless.  Age can catch up to a player at any time, and there’s no doubt that it’s finally caught Hines, after 14 mostly terrific seasons.

But…5^th receiver?  Generally it’s a wasted position.  Dallas Baker, Tyler Thigpen, Willie Reid…would Hines be better than those former #5’s?  Didn’t Ward still have chemistry with Ben Roethlisberger after playing with him for 8 years?  Wouldn’t it be a better move to keep Ward over Aaron Smith (who’s finished one season since 2007) or James Farrior (who’s older than Ward and probably less productive)?

Now look at trio of young receivers who forced Ward down the depth chart.  Mike Wallace, Antonio Brown, and Emmanuel Sanders represent one of the better core group of receivers you’ll find across the league.  But how good would any of these guys have been if they had not played with #86?  Wouldn’t they be less inclined to block?  Or sloppier with their routes?  Or more selfish about getting the ball?  Ward was demoted without explanation last season and did not complain to anyone.  He never demanded extra targets to get to 1,000.  He continued to be a positive influence on the receiving corps, who only got better as the season progressed.  Remember these things next time Sanders flattens a defensive end, or Brown runs a picture-perfect route, or Wallace bites his tongue after seeing only 4 passes thrown his way.

Now we must ask who wanted Hines out.  Maybe Roethilsberger wants to finally be the Big Dog on offense.  Maybe Tomlin doesn’t want the distraction.  Maybe Rooney truly believes Ward’s playing days are over.  But the big, unanswered question is this:  Did the Steelers offer him the veterans’ minimum?

About a month ago, Hines publicly stated his desire to both play in 2012 and remain with the Steelers.  He essentially implied that he would take any sort of salary cut to do so.  The Steelers rebuffed an earlier report indicating he was already released, but now it’s official.  The longest-tenured Steeler and one of the most popular players in team history is gone, and he wasn’t offered the inevitable pay cut.   For once, it wasn’t about the money.

It’s a sad ending for a player who is remembered as much for his smile as for his internal, unseen scowl.  Ward carried a chip on his shoulder for most of his career, feeling that he was underappreciated and underestimated, and really, who could blame him?  It was Ward, after all, who won his starting job over consecutive first-round draft picks, who racked up 1000-yard seasons in run-oriented offenses, who never complained about targets or touchdowns or accolades. 

He was – is – loved in Pittsburgh because he is – was – the most Pittsburgh-esque receiver we ever knew.   He could run over a safety, outrun a cornerback, and deliver a devastating block to a linebacker – all on the same series.   He could bounce up from a huge hit with a huge grin on his face.  He may have shown flashes of being a diva off the field, but on Sundays he was all business.

And why do we care so much about a washed-up receiver?  Not just because he seemed to genuinely admire the city of Pittsburgh and the fans.  Because he was the constant.  In an era when players and coaches are shuffled through town like cards in a deck, Ward was always around:  always ready to go in August, always catching touchdowns, always smiling.  He was one of the Steelers’ last links back to Three Rivers Stadium and the 90s teams of Bill Cowher.  We always knew his jersey would someday become a throwback, but did it really have to happen this way?

The doubters, whether they were real or imagined, always said Hines Ward wasn’t big enough or fast enough to make an impact in the NFL.  In the end, it was only Father Time that could put the brakes on his career.  Ironically, it’s Steelers who may have finally brought it to a halt. Time will tell whether they are right or wrong, but the last act of his career in Pittsburgh will always remain a sad final twist.  Hines Ward, though, will probably still be smiling.

The last time the Patriots and Giants squared off in the Big Game, the result was one of the best Super Bowls of all time.  Here’s how it went down.

Perfect Ending

Originally Written & Published on February 4, 2008

There will be no parade on Super Tuesday.  No commemorative books about the “Path to Perfection.”  In New England, the church bells all are broken.

                                                     -Dan Shaughnessy, Boston Globe, February 4, 2008

And so it goes.  In an NFL season where all the talk and focus was on a perfect record, no one ever brought up the possibility of a perfect Super Bowl.  It wasn’t the prettiest game, but it was still beautiful.  It was a defensive struggle, yet the offenses took over in a fourth quarter that saw three lead changes.  It was a game that was over before it even started, yet didn’t end until Eli Manning – Eli Manning!?!? – took a knee with one tick left on the clock.  When the confetti settled, this much was certain:  it was a game they will forever remember in New York; in Boston, it will be impossible to forget.

From the start of the two weeks of Super Bowl pre-game hype, it seemed nearly unfathomable that the Patriots would, or could, lose.  Once the Giants started talking trash in the middle of last week, I thought there was a real possibility that the Pats, eager to put a stamp on their claim for “Best Team of All-Time” would come out and throttle New York back into reality.  But once the fireworks ended and the actual game started, any notion of a New England-induced blowout crumbled under the rush of the Giants front seven.

When the Rams held off the Titans in 1999, I never thought I would see a more riveting Super Bowl.  I remember the Giants-Bills game in 1990, and the 49ers-Bengals game from the year before, but I was too young to really appreciate them.  And although the Rams-Pats game from ’01 was certainly a great one, I was bitter because the Steelers weren’t playing in that game.  But this year’s game delivered the goods, and then some.  Even the most ardent hater of the Boston-New York rivalry has to admit that this was, and probably always will be, one of the best Super Bowls we will ever see in our lifetimes.

As for the game itself, I was baffled by a few things.  First, New England’s offensive line, so good throughout the year, suddenly and improbably turned into the weak link in Belichick’s army.  Tom Brady looked more like Ben Roethlisberger as he was running for his life and hitting the turf all night.  Who knew the only way to stop the Pats juggernaut offense was to manhandle their O-line?  It had not been done in 18 games.  The other thing is, the Patriots were so good at capitalizing on opponent’s mistakes, but couldn’t make the Giants pay for two huge blunders – the interception that Steve Smith tipped up into the air, and the 12-men-on-the-field penalty, which was amazingly spotted on a replay and successfully challenged by New England.  This wasn’t the same team that beat the G-Men in Week 17, and it definitely wasn’t the same team that was running up the score all through September and October.

Now, a word about the Giants.  They played inspired, they played as a team, they bounced back when it seemed like the game was over…what can you say?  The better team won on Sunday.  Smith, Toomer, Tyree, Burress, and that white guy all made huge catches.  Jacobs and Bradshaw each had some nice runs and clutch blocks.  The defensive front seven played unbelievably, and the secondary, except for one mistake (the Moss TD) was pretty darn good.  And old Eli, well – I think he may have finally won over the New York fans.  That’s what happens when you engineer one of the biggest upsets in sports history.

Three things that will haunt the Patriots, maybe for eternity:

1.  Wild Bill’s decision to go for a 4^th-and-13 in the 3^rd quarter.  I know Belichick’s whole schtick is to make those ballsy calls and not worry about the repercussions, but the play they ran in that situation looked like it never had a chance.  I was waiting for Brady to dump it off to Kevin Faulk for one of his patented catch-and-run first downs, but a fade to a double-covered Jabar Gaffney was certainly not a high percentage play.  A good field goal right there might have made a difference, perhaps?

2.  Asante Samuel’s dropped INT.  Samuel is a great player, one of the best cornerbacks in the league, and has a great playoff resume.  He might catch that sideline pass 8 out of 10 times.  But the bottom line is that he was on the wrong end of two plays that ultimately became the difference in the game – that sideline pass, and the TD to David Tyree, where he got beat inside.

3.  The Play  Speaking of Tyree, he immediately joined Lynn Swann on the NFL Films reel of great Super Bowl catches.  I don’t know what was more insane – the fact that Eli somehow spun away from three Pats defenders who all had him in their grasp, or the way that Tyree settled the ball on his helmet while Rodney Harrison was simultaneously groping him and slamming him to the ground.  I know the “They just wanted it more” cliché is played out, but it fits that play perfectly.  Now it’s up to the mass media to give that play a corny name that nobody will like.

And so it goes.  The 1972 Dolphins, unwittingly thrust back into the spotlight, can now rest easy for at least another year.  This surreal Reebok ad can be resurrected from the cutting room floor.  Plaxico Burress can guarantee anything he wants from now on.  Eli Manning can permanently change his status from “good quarterback” to “great quarterback.”  And finally – and this is where my hatred for all things Patriots comes out – the legacy of the supposed greatest team of all-time is realized.  Here it is…

Every year, there is inevitably one team who breaks away from the pack, and starts the season 8-0, or 10-0 or something-and-0.  And now every year, at some point, NFL fans will look to the TV screen and see the following graphic:  Team X becomes the first team to start a season x-0 since the 2007 New England Patriots started the season 18-0 before losing in the Super Bowl.

Sounds perfect.

Steelers linebacker James Harrison is currently known best for his controversial shots to the head that may or may not be shots to the head, depending on who’s looking.  On Sunday in Mile High Field at Mile High Stadium, in a playoff game against the Broncos that was a few levels beyond epic, Harrison changed the game not with a shot to anyone’s head, but with a rarely seen inadvertent hit to the knee.

Bear with me for a minute, because it’s true that Harrison’s second-quarter hit on Eric Decker was long forgotten by the time Denver’s Demaryius Thomas put an exclamation point on the Broncos’ 29-23 victory.  But it was Harrison’s low tackle of Decker that altered a game which had plodded along, to that point, just as everyone had thought:  the Steelers were up early, the game was ugly and Denver was having trouble just completing a pass.  Imagine that.

For reasons unknown to probably even Tim Tebow himself, the Broncos passing game quite literally exploded just minutes after Tebow’s first completed pass was reversed on a challenge.  Up to that point, the Broncos had run a grand total of seven plays and gained a grand total of six yards.  Their ghastly offense bore a close resemblance to the offense that had failed to score a touchdown in 22 drives and had put up 17 points combined against the Kansas City Chiefs and Buffalo Bills.

Imagine that.

So, naturally, facing a third-and-12, while simultaneously staring at a third consecutive 3-and-out, Tebow reared back and connected on a 51-yard bomb to Thomas, who was now the Broncos top receiver.  It was easily Tebow’s best throw in over a month.  Two plays later, he upped the ante, throwing an even more picture-perfect long ball to Eddie Royal in the back of the end zone.  Just like that, Tebow Mania was back.  Back, and better than ever.

On Denver’s next possession, Tebow hit Thomas again on a long ball, this time for 58 yards – the longest pass completion of his career.  Two plays later, he rushed it up the middle for a touchdown, and all the self-doubt Tebow and the Broncos built up over 3 ugly losses disappeared into the mile high air.

Meanwhile, for the Steelers, it was a nightmare that was only getting worse.  Ben Roethlisberger, playing valiantly on an ankle that was far from healthy, looked more and more shaky as the first half wore on.  He was already missing his starting running back and his all-pro center.  The offensive line was having all sorts of trouble keeping Denver’s vaunted pass rush at bay.

The defense wasn’t faring much better.  Defensive linemen Casey Hampton and Brett Keisel departed early in the game with injuries, leaving only three healthy down-lineman for the rest of the game in the elevated altitude.  The defense was already without safety Ryan Clark, and the Steelers top-ranked secondary was slowly falling apart without him.

No one could have predicted that the Steelers, 9-point favorites at kickoff, would limp into halftime, battered and bruised, down 20-6 and looking for all the world like they were dead in the water.

As bad as the Steelers were in the first half, there was one silver lining:  The leaky defense managed to stop Denver twice in the red zone.  The halftime score of 20-6 could have been much worse, and Pittsburgh was very much in the game.

Roethilsberger put on his superman cape in the second half, leading three scoring drives while looking as sharp as he usually does in the playoffs.  He had plenty of help from his receivers, who caught pretty much everything he threw at them, and running back Ike Redman, who had three long runs and finished with an impressive 121 yards on 17 carries.

The pendulum seemed to finally swing away from the Broncos when Willis McGahee fumbled at the 44-yard line with 7:45 remaining, giving the Steelers a chance to tie it up.  Six plays later, Big Ben threw a ridiculous on-the run, 31-yard laser beam to Jerricho Cotchery in the end zone, which evened the score with 3:48 remaining.  It could have been one of Roethlisberger’s signature playoff moments, and surely would have been the play of the game if not for…well, you know.

Tebow could do very little in the 4^th quarter, which was once alternatively known as “Tebow Time.”  His offense couldn’t move the ball and he completed only two short passes.    When the Steelers got the ball back at the 1:37 mark, the game was theirs to lose.

It’s rare that a brutal playoff loss has no goat – although cornerback Ike Taylor is a pretty fair choice for this one – but the Steelers may be haunted by a bungled final drive.  They were on the cusp of field goal range before a taking a penalty, a sack, and nearly fumbling the ball away.  The overtime was over before you could blink, a wicked ending for some of the Steelers longtime vets whose game tonight may have been their last in a black and gold uniform.

So here’s your cliff notes recap:  The Steelers are in control of the game until Harrison inadvertently knocks out Denver’s top receiver.  Tebow suddenly goes nuts and starts hitting every pass.  The Broncos take a 14-point lead – which equals their biggest lead of the season – and nearly blow it, as the Steelers roar back to tie it up.  On the first play of overtime, Tebow christens the new rules by firing a pass over the middle, and Thomas breaks a tackle and scores on an 80-yard catch and run.  Ballgame.

The game was everything everyone loves about the Broncos in the Age of Tebow:  dramatic, perplexing, astounding, and, of course, epic.  Roethlisberger and the Steelers lost under similar circumstances – sleepwalk early, huge comeback, falter in final minutes – 11 months ago in Super Bowl XLV.  Somehow, in this strange world of Tebow Mania, this one hurts worse.  Imagine that.

Originally published 12/19/11

Jean Leavy, a former Washington Post sportswriter, published a biography of Mickey Mantle last year entitled “The Lost Boy.”  When discussing the book, she has said that one of the best compliments she received was from a guy named Vinny in Philadelphia, who said (cue Philly accent): “Ya got behind the myth without destroying the legend.”

Though it surely would’ve sounded better in Pittsburghese, the quote above could easily describe the ultimate goal of any biographer:  to balance the myth and the man.  In Pittsburgh, Mario Lemieux is held in esteem reserved only for a select few, and his legendary status was cemented long ago.  Lawrence Martin’s Mario, which falls into the unauthorized biography category (Mario didn’t participate in the book), is probably the only Mario book that gets behind the myth without destroying the legend.

Martin, a respected Canadian journalist, wrote this book back in the early 90s and it was published in 1993, not even before the halfway point of Lemieux’s career.  It’s a fascinating study of his early years, including his dynamic, record-setting junior league career and his tenuous relationship with the Canadian media.

It’s no secret that today’s Penguins’ fans are trending younger, and most probably don’t know all that much about Lemieux’s younger days.  College-aged Pens fans may be shocked to read that…

-Mario smoked.  Lemieux is probably the last great Pittsburgh athlete who regularly smoked cigs.  He was so out of shape as a rookie that he could barely run more than a mile without stopping.  He started smoking in junior hockey out of boredom, and didn’t quit until his mid-20s.

-Mario refused to wear the jersey.  On draft day in ’84, Lemieux and the Penguins were not on the same page in contract talks.  When chosen first overall, he refused to shake hands with owner Eddie Debartolo and would not don the Penguins jersey, which was and still is the customary practice.  I’m guessing this would have been a much bigger deal if it happened today.

-Mario didn’t train hard.  Sixty-six rarely trained hard to keep in shape, and it was widely known that he preferred the golf course to the gym.  Some critics attributed his back problems, which first arose when he was in his early 20s, to his almost fanatical devotion to hitting the links.  Although Mario played until he was 40 years old, initially retired at 31 and battled injuries throughout his entire career.

-Mario was lazy.   Though this would change somewhat in his later years, Lemieux wasn’t much of a factor on defense.  He often swooped around in the neutral zone, seemingly disinterested until the puck came free to him.  He was critcized early and often for his aversion to backchecking, and many in the Canadian media thought he didn’t play hard every game – though his point production suggests otherwise.

-Mario wasn’t very popular with the Canadian media.  Lemieux refused to represent his country in international competition a few times before he turned 25.  The Canadian media quickly turned against him, and his stature in his home country hasn’t really ever recovered.

The book reaches its climax naturally: the tumultuous 1992-93 season.   The Penguins franchise had never seen anything like it, and probably never will again.  Lemieux, rested and in his prime, was lighting it up for the two-time defending champs, on pace to break Gretzky’s most hallowed records:  91 goals and 215 points in a season.  The Penguins had arguably their most talented team ever.  Meanwhile, surly Scotty Bowman had fallen so out of touch with the players that an arrangement was made where he did not run the practices.

We all know how it ends:  Halfway through the season, Lemieux is diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease, putting his career in jeopardy.   When he returns after a 24-game absence, the Philly crowd gives him a standing ovation.  He scores 56 points in final 21 games, while leading the Penguins on a 17-game winning streak, an NHL record that still stands today, and also zooming past Pat LaFontaine to win the Art Ross Trophy.  The Pens finish with an NHL-best and franchise-record 119 points.

Lemieux has lived a couple of lifetimes since 1993, but those who have seen him his entire career know that the 92-93 season was his ultimate peak.  That’s why his career is hard to quantify:  he was the best we’ve ever seen, but we can never know just how good he might have been.  Better teammates?  No back problems?  A sophisticated training regimen?  His numbers would have been into the stratosphere.  Pittsburgh’s own John Steigerwald – he of “Just Watch the Game” fame – has said that if Lemieux played on Gretzky’s Oilers teams, he would have had 250 points every year.

Mickey Mantle tore up his knew early in his career, yet still dominated.  Lemieux’s back caused him to miss 479 games in his career, yet he still dominated.  That’s why the myths endure.  The men are far more complicated.

Strange things happen in Pittsburgh during the Steelers’ bye week.  Televisions go dark on Sunday.  Grills remain in the garage.  Black and gold jerseys hibernate in closets.  Beer distributors – well, they still do alright.

Nothing can truly fill the void created by the Steelers bye week – not even Pittsburgh Penguins captain Sidney Crosby, who was cleared to play by his doctors about a month ago but was politely informed by Steelers personnel that his return to the ice would have to wait until their bye week.

As for the Steelers players, it’s our delightful task of chronicling what they do with their precious time off.  Last time we checked in with the team, it was during last summer’s lockout.  We also covered their bye week last season, and the season before that.  This year, once again, there were plenty of shenanigans going on.  Brace yourselves, Steelers fans, as we take our annual peek behind the curtain…

Former starting wide receiver Hines Ward began with his usual bye week routine – manicure, pedicure, head shave and wax, facial, and full-body massage – and then spent the rest of the weekend reading the classifieds, filling out some forms he vaguely described as “league paperwork,” and making audition tapes for all the major pregame studio shows.

Former bachelor Ben Roethlisberger spent a quiet weekend at home with his new wife, where they spent most of the time catching up on housework, watching movies and eating popcorn.  That’s what he paid us to say, anyway.

Outspoken running back Rashard Mendenhall recently revived his long-dead Twitter account by posting several messages which appeared to support deceased Lybian dictator Muammar Gaddafi.  Owner Dan Rooney issued a prompt statement, saying, in part:  “I have not spoken with Rashard, so it is hard to explain or even comprehend what he meant with his recent Twitter comments.  By the way, what is ‘Twitter,’ exactly?”

Speedy wide receiver Mike Wallace delivered a hundred Thanksgiving turkeys to residences all over the city of Pittsburgh, and it took him only 45 minutes to do it.  Meanwhile, former Steelers running back Willie Parker was in town to visit old friends, and it took him almost 45 minutes to walk across the 9^th Street Bridge.

Cornerback Ike Taylor also got a gig delivering turkeys to homes in the Southside; however, he was quickly fired after he dropped about a dozen turkeys on the ground.

Another former Steelers running back, Franco Harris, continued his passionate defense of former Penn State coach Joe Paterno, saying yesterday, “I mean, it’s clear that Paterno wasn’t involved in this scandal at all.  Did Nixon know about Watergate?  Of course not.  When all this is said and done, Joe’s name will be cleared and he will be back coaching the Nittany Lions.”

Meanwhile, punter Jeremy Kapinos, the Steelers only current Penn State alum, traveled to Columbus to watch the Nittany Lions take on the Buckeyes, saying, “I couldn’t pass up the chance to witness Tom Bradley’s first and last road win as Penn State’s coach.”

Speaking of coaches, Steelers head honcho Mike Tomlin spent part of last week in New York for a meeting with Commissioner Roger Godell to discuss the NFL’s policy of fining the Steelers at least once per game.  The tense meeting seemed to end amicably, and Tomlin quipped afterwards, “Let’s just say it went better than the meeting between Billy Hunter and David Stern.

All-world safety Troy Polamalu spent much of the weekend freaking out the local populace by dressing as his wax-figure double.  When asked about USC’s recent upset over Oregon, he replied cryptically, “It’s not an upset unless you believe you’re inferior.”

Long-snapper Greg Warren, in his seven-years-and-counting quest to get recognized by an ordinary Steelers fan, took an extraordinary step this year:  He placed a full-page ad in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, offering a meet-and-greet autograph session at the William Penn Hotel downtown.  In an unfortunate bit of scheduling, the event is to begin promptly on Monday night at 7:08 p.m.

Nosetackle Casey Hampton spent some time last week in the bowels of the Pittsburgh Penguins’ former home, the partially demolished Civic Arena, cooking one last batch of Civic Arena nachos.  He claims to have tasted the nachos at “almost a hundred” other places around the city, but none of them could match the ones formerly served at the Igloo.

Cornerback William Gay will be a guest this Sunday on KDKA’s Sports Showdown, in a new feature called, “How ‘Ya Like Me Now?”  The segment’s guest each week will be someone who is regularly bashed on Pittsburgh sports talk radio, and live callers will get the chance to ask that person questions, and that person’s only response will be, “How ‘ya like me now?”  It should be riveting TV, especially when Pens goalie Marc-Andre Fleury answers in his French-Canadian accent.

Backup linebacker Stevenson Sylvester was seen at the Allegheny County Courthouse filling out some paperwork.  Shockingly, he was not there to change his name to “Sylvester Stevenson” – he was paying a year’s worth of parking tickets from parking in the stadium lot on game days.

Linebacker James Harrison spent the weekend working out, lifting weights, jogging, boxing, swimming, and jumping rope.  When asked by a local reported how his recent eye injury is healing, he stared at the reporter for several minutes without blinking, finally responding, “How does it look?”

Finally, FOX analyst and former Steelers quarterback Terry Bradshaw, never one to mince words, chimed in over the weekend on the return of Pittsburgh’s precocious superstar, Sidney Crosby:  “I’ll tell ya somethin’ – I don’t see what all the big fuss is about ol’ Sid the Kid comin’ back.  He should’ve been back about 8 MONTHS AGO if you ask me.  He took a hit to the head, what, once?  Twice?  Sheesh, I used to get my helmet slammed to the turf about 5 times a game back in ’81, and I never even missed a SNAP.”

The Civic Arena is finally being demolished.

Strange things happen before every Pittsburgh Penguins home game. Up until game time, everyone lucky enough to secure tickets does the same routine that’s been done for the past 44 years: they drive along the same cramped bridges and tunnels, they park in the same overpriced parking lots, they eat and drink at the same cramped local watering holes. Then they head over to the still-sparkling Consol Energy Center, a state-of-art arena that opened in 2010. Along the way, they walk past a ghost, an abandoned former crown jewel which has reverted back to one of its old names, the Civic Arena, but will forever be known as the Igloo.

After more than a year of legal wrangling, demolition of the 50-year old building began about a month ago. Much like the decision to tear the place down, the demolition will be long and painful; reports indicate it won’t be finished until at least May of next year. Two weeks ago, crews began to strip off the roof, piece by piece. And even though we already said our goodbyes in Pittsburgh, this time it’s for good. Perhaps the old barn deserves one more trip down memory lane.

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Magic Moment: Mario goes to the net, May 26, 1992

In 1992, the Pittsburgh Penguins were flying high. Moustaches and mullets ruled the day. The defending champion Penguins stormed back into the Stanley Cup finals on a rousing seven-game playoff win streak. One problem: waiting for them was the Chicago Blackhawks, who came into the series winners of 11 straight playoff games.

It is now Game 1, and the Igloo is rockin’. The Blackhawks are unfazed and they blitz the shell-shocked Pens, taking a commanding 4-1 lead halfway through. But the defending champs aren’t going down quietly. After they cut the lead down to one, 19-year-old phenom Jaromir Jagr snags a loose puck and zigzags between three Chicago defenders for a majestic backhander—a goal that Mario Lemieux would later say was “the best goal he’s ever seen”—to tie it up.

Later, with a faceoff in the Penguins’ end and 14 seconds left in the game, it’s Mario’s turn. He drifts back to the blue line, then he plows forward to the net when the Penguins win the draw. Defenseman Larry Murphy shoots, and the rebound bounces right to Mario, who bangs it home with ease. The Igloo explodes. Media members say the building was never louder. The Blackhawks don’t win another playoff game.

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In 1961, the Pittsburgh Civic Auditorium opened its doors with great fanfare. Built for the then-astronomical sum of $22 million, it was designed to house the Pittsburgh Civic Light Opera, a non-profit theatre organization that still exists today but long ago relinquished its status as the primary tenant. Then, as now, the place was one of a kind—the only one of its kind. It was a large, domed silver building that resembled a spaceship. There was a retractable roof. No other city had anything like it.

The first professional sports team to call it home was not the Penguins but rather the Pittsburgh Rens of the American Basketball League, who played there for one season in 1962 before the struggling league folded. Five years later, the NHL expanded from six to twelve teams and awarded Pittsburgh a franchise. The team was christened the Penguins, because the building looked like a giant igloo. Or was it the other way around? Real penguins are found only at the South Pole, whereas real Eskimos—the people who build real igloos—are found exclusively in the Northern Hemisphere. This gave birth to a rhetorical question you couldn’t possibly hear anywhere else on earth: Which came first, the Penguins or the Igloo?

Over time, the place became woefully outdated. It smelled of stale beer and nachos. Paint actually started peeling off the walls. The retractable roof closed one day in the mid-90s, never to be opened again. The small concourses, the grainy TV sets, the burnt-orange seats? Yeah, those weren’t going to cut it in the 21st century.

In 2007, after many failed attempts for a new arena plan, the Penguins loaded the bullet in the chamber. Either there was going to be a new arena built, or they were moving to Kansas City or some other far-away place. The Igloo—by then known as Mellon Arena—was the oldest arena in the NHL, and it was a dump. Three years later, Consol Energy Center opened across the street. We all said goodbye to the Igloo. Only it wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet, anyway.

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Magic Moment: Connie Hawkins steals the show, May 4, 1968

The Pittsburgh Pipers swept into town in 1967, one of the new franchises in the inaugural season of the American Basketball Association. The Pipers were colorful and flashy, piling up wins—15 in a row at one point—behind the league’s best player, Connie Hawkins, Pittsburgh’s first and only professional basketball star. But no matter how fun they were to watch, no one was watching. Fans turned away in droves. Barely 3,000 a game showed up, not enough to keep the balance sheet from falling in the red and eventually forcing the team to move to Minnesota after just one season. But before they left, the Pipers became the Civic Arena’s first championship team.

When Hawkins and the Pipers advanced to the ABA finals, fans decided to finally show up for Game 7 in Pittsburgh, to see what all the fuss was about—11,457 to be exact, the largest crowd the team ever saw, by far. The tip-off was delayed for an hour because there weren’t enough ushers and ticket-takers to get all the fans inside. The Hawk, after pouring in 41 points on a bum knee in a must-win Game 6, led the Pipers with 20 points and 16 rebounds as they outlasted the visiting New Orleans Bucs, 122-113, to win the very first ABA title. Hawkins dribbled out the clock at the end, and fans swarmed the court in delight, and the team retreated into the locker room to pour champagne on each other, the Pipers: Pittsburgh’s forgotten champions in a city full of them.

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In its final days, the Civic Arena—Mellon Bank’s naming rights expired in 2010—was nothing more than a ghost. The last event there was June 26, 2010, when Carole King and James Taylor played a concert. Shortly after, the insides were stripped and everything was auctioned off, even the turnstiles. The place literally became a shell of its former self, a reminder of Pittsburgh’s past, without the grandeur or the guided tours. It had become a useless ruin of the Space Age, with maintenance costs of around $50,000 per month.

Useless? In its heyday, the Civic Arena was anything but useless. The calendar of events was jammed full every year, every season. Over time, the place built up an impressive resume few buildings could ever match. Professional tennis. The Beatles. Indoor soccer. The ABA. Monster truck rallies. The Globetrotters. Opera. Judy Garland. The Doors. The NCAA Tournament. Sinatra. Hockey. Wrestling. It was the jack-of-all trades. No event was too big or small. Crowds were packed to full capacity depending on the event; on other nights, ushers outnumbered the patrons. The Civic Arena could be anything: indoors or outdoors, chic or lowbrow, street or country.

In the spring of 2010, after the Penguins lost to the Montreal Canadiens in the playoffs, we said our goodbyes. This was the end of the road, and the Igloo would be demolished the same way Three Rivers Stadium came down in 2001, when Heinz Field and PNC Park opened. But Three Rivers was a cold piece of concrete with identical brothers in Cincinnati and Philadelphia. Of course no one wanted to save it. But the Igloo? There is—was—only one Igloo. And it wasn’t coming down without a fight.

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Magic Moment: Jordan Staal sparks the rally, June 4, 2009

It was happening again. For the second consecutive spring, the Detroit Red Wings were schooling the Pittsburgh Penguins in the Stanley Cup Finals. Just like the year before, the Wings took the first two games in Detroit. It’s Game 4 now, and—just like last year—Detroit is about to win this game and put a stake through the Pens’ hearts. The Red Wings are up 2-1 when they get another power play in the second period. They are looking for the knockout punch.

Jordan Staal, the Pens’ lanky penalty-killer extraordinaire, takes a clearing pass and suddenly finds himself on a pseudo-breakaway. He powers it past Red Wings’ goalie Chris Osgood, and the tense crowd explodes. It’s his first goal of the ’09 playoffs and the biggest goal of his life. The Penguins tack on two more goals in the period. Eight days later, they win the Cup in Detroit.

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The owners of the Civic Arena facility, an organization called the Sports and Exhibition Authority, gave the green light for demolition in August—of last year. A non-profit group called the Pittsburgh Preservation Authority spearheaded an effort to preserve the arena and reuse it.

The argument to demolish was really pretty simple: the Civic Arena was no longer viable and should not, could not, remain standing. Consol Energy Center does everything the Civic Arena once did, only better. And didn’t we need more parking?

The preservationists argued that the Civic Arena is historically and architecturally significant. In some ways, they were correct, as the arena met almost every prerequisite for historical preservation. But this status was denied twice, first by the city’s historic review and planning commission, and again by the Pittsburgh City Council.

One key question was never really answered: What was anyone going to do with the thing if it was kept it around? Build a mini-mall inside it? Bring back the opera? Re-open the roof?

There was a rumor that the arena would undergo the greatest demolition of all-time: It would be blown up as part of a scene in Batman Returns, which filmed in Pittsburgh this past summer. The plan was never confirmed and may have been nothing more than an urban legend, but the Civic Arena was no stranger to the silver screen. It was featured heavily in the 1976 classic The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh, and it also had a bit of a starring role in the 1995 Jean Claude Van Dame action thriller Sudden Death. Ironically, in that movie, it was saved from being blown up.

People in Pittsburgh love those movies, because we take pride, sometimes irrationally, in our civic institutions. PNC Park is best park in baseball, the Steelers are the greatest sports franchise in history, and Mr. Rodgers is the greatest human being ever. Does any city have a better view than the scene from atop Mount Washington? Nope. Want to see the steepest street in the Western Hemisphere? It’s right over here. Heinz Ketchup. The Warhol Museum. Westinghouse Electrics. This isn’t some commuter city with lookalike condos and five-lane highways in all directions. This is a place with character, with history, with its own accent.

The Civic Arena was an outdated, primitive dump. But it is—was—ours. It’s filled with three generations worth of memories, and those are hard to let go of. Pittsburgh craves nostalgia. We like to see the silver dome poking out of the shadows when we cross the Veterans Bridge, just like we want to ride the wooden roller coasters at Kennywood and eat at the original Primanti Brothers restaurant.

The real fear now that the Igloo is coming down might be what appears along Centre Avenue after it’s gone. We all know what mixed-use business and residential means: another bland shopping center/plaza, complete with the every chain store du jour. Also, why is there a need for more office and retail space? The Fifth Avenue corridor, which runs right by Consol Energy Center, has plenty of empty storefronts and vacant office space. Why not fill those up first?

Nonetheless, the end of the Igloo was imminent years ago. What could be gained in prolonging its demise? Look around. In Houston, the decaying Astrodome, once dubbed the eighth wonder of the world, is in such bad shape that it’s been off-limits to the public for years. In Detroit, the Pontiac Silverdome sold at an auction in 2008 for $500,000, or about $55 million less than the cost to build it. Not far down the road used to be Tiger Stadium, which sat in a state of disrepair for six long years before it was demolished, as civic groups tried in vain to save it. Old stadiums and arenas, for the most part, are like old running backs: once they’re done, they’re done. And the Igloo has finally, mercifully reached the end of the road.

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Magic Moment: Coppin State stuns South Carolina, March 14, 1997

His name is Ron Mitchell, but everyone calls him Fang. No one forgets a nickname like that. He is still the head coach of the Coppin State Eagles, an historically black college in Baltimore that, prior to 1997, had never won a game in the NCAA tournament. They were a 15-seed matched up against the powerful South Carolina Gamecocks, a two-seed who had been ranked in the Top 25 all season. In other words, Coppin State was the sacrificial lamb.

It’s a sleepy audience on this day, because even the best basketball doesn’t get much of a rise out of the people of western Pennsylvania. But Coppin State slowly wins over the crowd, trading baskets with the Gamecocks, keeping it close throughout. With 6:12 to go, Fang’s team takes the lead. The Civic Arena is packed, and the crowd is buzzing. The corridors and concession stands empty out. The Eagles are on fire, attacking the basket, locking down on defense, and soon they’re up by five points, 10 points, 12 points. The crowd is going bananas, unleashing a “LET’S go EA-gles!” chant down the stretch and rising for a standing ovation as the clock ticks down to zero. Coppin State wins by 13, still the biggest beating a 15-seed has ever given a two-seed.

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The Igloo wasn’t actually built for hockey, but it was made for hockey. It was hockey that breathed life into the place night in and night out. It was hockey that made it famous. We remember the place for hockey above all else. And any hockey talk in Pittsburgh begins with Mario Lemieux.

This is where Mario did so many magical and ridiculous things, some of which no player has ever done before or since. Against the New Jersey Devils in 1988, Lemieux scored five goals in five different ways: even-strength, on the power play, shorthanded, on a penalty shot, and an empty-netter. Against the Western Conference goalies in the 1990 All-Star Game in Pittsburgh, Lemieux scored four goals—in the first period. Against Buffalo’s Pat Lafontaine in the race for the 1992-93 Art Ross Trophy, Lemieux came back after missing two months—he was being treated for Hodgkin’s disease—and scored 56 points in the final 20 games of the season, leaving Lafontaine in the dust and pushing the Penguins to their best record in franchise history.

One of the best Lemieux stories involved a random middle-of-the-regular-season game against the Sabres on December 23, 2002. Earlier that day, local radio host Mark Madden had been criticizing Lemieux—blasphemy!—for occasionally attempting to score a goal directly off of a faceoff. Madden had a decent point, since it’s nearly impossible to do such a thing. So he says on the radio that he will donate $6,600 to Lemieux’s foundation if Number 66 can do the impossible. Late in the game, Mario leans in for a faceoff, and, in the blink of an eye, shoves the puck into the back of the net, and immediately points up towards the press box. After the game he comes rumbling into the locker room with a giant grin on his face, yelling giddily, “Where’s my money?  Where’s my money?!?”  And Madden thought hard about ever criticizing Super Mario again.

Lemieux is the dominant figure in the Penguins franchise. (The Civic Arena’s address is 66 Mario Lemieux Place.)  He was, is, and forever will be known as their best player. He was the perfect blend of size, speed, and puck handling. He transformed the team from basement-dwellers into contenders. His career in Pittsburgh spanned three decades, two Stanley Cups, and enough breathtaking moments to fill up a DVR. And…oh, right: he also saved the franchise.

With the Penguins on the verge of bankruptcy—again—in 1999, it was Lemieux who offered to purchase the club, even though he was still owed millions in deferred salary. With the Penguins on the verge of leaving town in 2007, when a plan for a new arena didn’t pan out—again—it was Lemieux who forced an emergency meeting in Philadelphia with NHL commissioner Gary Bettman to hammer out an agreement that would keep the Penguins in Pittsburgh for good. The agreement of course, included a new arena, which would eventually be christened Consol Energy Center.

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Magic Moment: Mario returns to the ice, December 27, 2000

Three years off. In the prime of his career. Injuries and other ailments had always dogged Mario Lemieux like a shadow, forcing him into an early retirement in 1997 at age 32. But in the fall of 2000, rumors began swirling that he was feeling good and considering a return to the ice. In late December, hockey fans got their Christmas present: Super Mario was coming back.

The game against Toronto in December, an otherwise innocuous game in the middle of the season, became a spectacle. 30 seconds into his first shift, Mario dished out an assist. Later, he scored a goal and chipped in with another assist. Inspirational comeback? Just another day at the office for Mario Lemieux.

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In Pittsburgh, like any blue-collar sports town, we remember the bad moments almost as much as the good ones, and we do the same with the moments at the Igloo. We can’t forget Tom Fitzgerald of the Florida Panthers scoring from just inside the Red Line in Game 7 of the ’96 Eastern Conference Finals. Or Flyers forward Keith Primeau beating goalie Ron Tugnutt in the fifth overtime in the ’00 playoffs. Or Marion Hossa coming thisclose to jamming home a rebound at the buzzer before the Detroit Red Wings won the deciding Game 6 of the Stanely Cup Finals in ’08.

We remember David Volek. True Penguins fans will tell that the 1992-93 team was on another level, the best team in franchise history. This was Kevin Stevens and Rick Tocchet and Ron Francis spearheading the league’s most dangerous offense. This was 20-year-old Jagr beginning his ascent to superstardom. This team was the back-to-back defending champs, on the cusp of a dynasty. This was Lemieux scoring 69 goals and 91 assists in only 60 games, numbers that, when stretched across a full 82-game season, leave the best seasons of Wayne Gretzky in the rearview mirror. This team captured the President’s Trophy running away with a franchise-record 119 points. This team ripped off 17 straight outright wins in March and April to set an NHL record that still stands. This was the team.

But the Penguins ran into the scrappy New York Islanders in the playoffs, and they have inexplicably forced a Game 7, and, unbelievably, they’re winning 3-1 late in the game. The Pens score twice in the last four minutes to tie it up. Nice effort, Islanders, but you aren’t the team of destiny. But early in overtime, the puck takes a couple of wild bounces and suddenly, before anyone realizes it, the Islanders have an odd-man rush, two versus one, Volek rushing forward with the puck. Pittsburgh defenseman Kjell Samuelsson has to make a split second decision: play the man, or play the pass.

He plays the man. David Volek, who would play only 32 more games in the NHL and retire the following season, buries it in the back of the net. The Civic Arena has never been so quiet.

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Magic Moment: The End, May 5, 2010

The Canadiens, with their iconic blue and red sweaters and their legendary history, were Sidney Crosby’s favorite team as a kid. They were now threatening to derail his team’s third consecutive run to the Finals, having pushed the Penguins to Game 7 in Pittsburgh.

Before anyone can blink, Montreal goes up 4-0. The Penguins are sloppy and unfocused. Didn’t they have too much pride for this? In the middle of the second period, they finally wake up, scoring twice. Coach Dan Bylsma would say after the game that he felt confident the team could come all the way back. They’re flying around, asserting themselves, pouring pucks at the net. The crowd is going ballistic. One more goal will break the Canadiens. One last magic moment. A biblical comeback. The Penguins of Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin will forever be ascending.

Pittsburgh starts the 3rd period with a 4-on-3. Power play quarterback Sergei Gonchar walks the puck into the zone, as he’s done about six thousand times in his career. He starts moving slowly to his left, as Malkin circles behind him. It’s a set play, perfectly executed—Gonchar is X, Malkin is O—and the crowd can sense it. Malkin steps into a perfect pass and fires a blistering slapshot. Save. The rebound bounces right to Crosby. Save. The Penguins don’t get close again, and, 43 years after winning the first NHL game at the Igloo, the Canadiens win the last one.

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You walk into the Consol Energy Center and it’s fabulous. Wide, brightly-lit concourses in all directions. New car smell everywhere. Comfortable seats. Plenty of bathrooms. Flat-screen TVs. Concession stands near every exit. Hardly a bad seat in the house. Things cound’t be better. Except it’s just not the same. And that’s why you can’t shake the feeling: you will miss the Civic Arena.