For the last two years I have been playing on a second
hockey team. Hey, why not, I’m not
getting any younger. Just recently
we received our new jerseys. As I
was handed my customary #26 and I was asked why that number. I said Patrick Flatley wore that number
for Islanders. Flatley had become
a favorite player of mine and I would run into him several times over the
years. I had a chance to catch up
with him recently, the night the Islanders added his name to their Hall of
Fame. He and I chatted about the
first time we met.
The story about wearing number 26 actually begins in high
school. My girlfriend at the time
was a huge Islander fan and her favorite player was Butch Goring. She was surprised I did not have one so
she prodded me to pick. I was a
right-handed shot and played right wing so I narrowed it down to that. The right-handed right wings at the
time were Mike Bossy, Duane Sutter and Bobby Nystrom. Bossy was an elite scorer, and I wasn’t…next! Sutter was nicknamed “Dog”. Ah, that would be a great choice except
a friend already tagged him as his favorite. So by default, Bobby Nystrom was my choice. As Nystrom’s career was coming to an
end, I needed a new favorite player.
One I could follow from the start of his NHL career. But how would I choose?
It was February of 1984 and the Islanders introduced their
two draft picks to the media. They
were joining the team after playing in the Olympics. 1983 1st round draft choice, Pat LaFontaine and
lesser known 1982 1st round draft choice, Patrick Flatley. I decided one of these players would
become my favorite, but whom? I
liked LaFontaine. He was a US
player and represented his country well at the Olympics. The 1984 US Team did not have the
success of the 1980 miracle team, but the buzz was still there 4 years
later. LaFontaine was a superstar,
the best player on any team he played for…we would have nothing in common. Patrick Flatley played for the Canadian
Olympic team. He was a
slow-footed, rugged right wing that loved to dig the puck out of the corner…I
could relate with that.
I recalled two years earlier when Patrick Flatley was
drafted. The Islanders were in the
midst of winning their 4 Stanley Cups so no one paid attention to the NHL
draft. Well, one person did. It was not the first time I had heard
the name Flatley either. Being a
WWII buff, I was reading a book on the U.S.S. Enterprise…so famous a ship Gene
Roddenberry would use the name.
The air group commander was James Flatley. He would become a war hero, a leading naval aviation
tactician, and in 1980 a ship would be named in his honor…FFG-21 U.S.S.
Flatley. James Flatley also flew
the stubby little Grumman fighters, which had become my favorite plane. So, being aboard the most famous ship,
being it’s first air commander and a hero, flying the Grumman Wildcat…hmm, the
name Flatley would stick in my head.
1n 1982, when Patrick Flatley was drafted, he was playing
for the University of Wisconsin Badgers.
I did not know much about their hockey team but I had followed the Badger
football team for a few years now.
Why Wisconsin you might ask?
Well, in high school I was in the band…don’t worry, that will be a blog
for another day. In 10th
grade I was handed a piece of sheet music, it was our high school’s fight song,
Onward Central. But wait, the name
was hand written on the top and something was crossed out underneath. Apparently we borrowed the Badgers
fight song, On Wisconsin, and called it our own. The song became so entrenched in my mind from playing it
repeatedly it only seemed natural to root for the University of Wisconsin. I can still hum the tune to this day.
Hmmm…he played at Wisconsin, his last name was the same as
that of a World War II hero and my style of play was similar to his. Seems like this decision was already
made for me…so Patrick Flatley it was.
It was the summer of 1990 and I was playing pick up ice
hockey in Long Beach. The games
were late and when I got home, I would just leave my equipment in the
trunk. Mistake. One of the days following, I went to
retrieve something from my car. I
noticed the lock on the trunk was broken.
Not thinking much about it, I popped the trunk from inside the car. As I went back, I looked in…it was
empty. Everything was gone. My heart sank. I did not have a full time job yet, how
was I to pay to replace all that equipment. It was then I learned about Homeowner’s Insurance. Everything would be ok. It was only a month later I received
the compensation check.
The check cleared the week after and I was off to Syosset
Sports to replace my stolen equipment.
This was the Islanders Pro shop.
It didn’t matter if prices were higher, my budget was already dictated. I arrived about an hour before
closing. The proprietor stated I
could take my time…I had informed him of my mission. As closing time came, he was good to his word. He locked the front door to the shop
and allowed me to scour for equipment.
Entrenched deep in the shin guard isle, I could only hear the owner
welcome in a visitor from the back door.
“Hey Flats.” The new
arrival asked for a skate sharpening and said he would be right back. Flats? It couldn’t be.
I weaved my way back to the counter and inquired, was that Patrick
Flatley? Indeed it was. I mentioned to the shopkeep he was my
favorite player. He offered to
introduce me when he returned.
Flatley returned, bagel in hand. I find it ironic now since he went into the bagel business
after retiring from hockey. We
shook hands and I mentioned my story of the stolen equipment. He offered his input on my
purchases. As we worked our way
through the store, I inquired about his right knee and his surgery a few years
earlier. I told him I had injured
the same knee and had my ACL repaired also. We compared scars as if were Quint and Hooper. Flatley said, “Wow, they really
filleted your knee” My surgery had been earlier than his, so it was a little
more evasive. We talked about
rehab and everything we did to get back on the ice. He then asked what number I wore…and I sheepishly said,
“26”, knowing it was his. He joked
that that number didn’t bring him any luck since he switched from number
8. It was shortly after that
change he blew out his knee. Soon
I was done picking out my equipment and Flatley’s skates were ready. He asked me my name as he was
leaving. I said it should be easy
to remember, you have a Mike Walsh playing for the Islanders right now. He offered a compliment that I looked
similar to my namesake. I kidded
back….”Thanks, that Mike Walsh is going bald.” And with that, Flats was on his way.
It would be two years later in 1992 when I would run into
Patrick Flatley again. It was the
Islanders Fantasy camp, funny enough run by Bobby Nystrom. It was the last day, and he would be
one of the pros for that session.
I got a chance to play on a line with Flats…he even set me up for a
goal…no easy feat. Flatley had his
season cut short the year before on a vicious slash by Kjell Samuelsson. It resulted in a badly broken
thumb. Between shifts Flats told
me he was still angry at the cheap shot and he showed me the scar. It went from the top of his finger all
the way down to his wrist.
Luckily, this time, I had nothing to compare it to.
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