It got ugly in a hurry, and before even six minutes had elapsed in the Detroit Red Wings season opener at Little Caeser's Arena, fans began to revolt:
"SELL THE TEAM! ... SELL THE TEAM!" they chanted.
If it's any consolation, the same chant was heard from the same seats three years ago during the Pistons' season of infamy, and last spring, that franchise was a game from the conference finals. Different sports, yes, but a reminder that things don't stay bleak forever (except in Cleveland, where the baseball team hasn't won a title in 78 years).
Also, it's Cleveland.
That town doesn't have an NHL team anymore, of course, but those fine folks across the lake from us recognize the need for a good booing; they certainly would've related to the thunderous
disapproval rained down on a Red Wings' former captain Friday, Oct. 2.
No, not that Captain; he was nowhere near a camera during team introductions. His chosen successor (before he had the "C" stripped this summer) Dylan Larkin was, though, and when the LCA announcer said his name and the camera found him during the "scratches" portion of the intros – a yearly tradition on opening night – the crowd let him have it.
Someone had to pay. And since Christopher Ilitch wasn't waving to the stands from the ice and absorbing the figurative body blows, Larkin served as the proxy punching bag for everything gone wrong the past decade.
Oh, he earned his portion of the boos, no question. Demand a trade with the "C" on your sweater, and folks aren't going to take kindly to the perceived lack of gumption.
Fair or not, Larkin's request signaled he'd done all he could, and for hockey fans in this town, that wasn't ever going to be enough, especially when they watched him skate like a difference-maker the first three months of the last few seasons only to fall off after the break.
Larkin stood and took it for a moment and even waved to the crowd, and not in any kind of sarcastic way, either. Then he turned and headed toward the tunnel. That he was out there was his choice, Todd McClellan said after the Wings 2-0 loss to the New York Rangers.
"Dylan's explanation was, 'I don't want the rest of my teammates – the ones that aren't dressed – to not be out there," the Wings coach said afterward. "So, we went out as a team, and that's what we're going to do. We're going to do it as a team."
Red Wings tradition dictates that every player on the opening night roster, dressed or not, meets the crowd during introductions, and Larkin knew if he stayed in the locker room to duck the smoke, he might jeopardize his teammates' chance to get recognized.
The organization has done that for 100 previous seasons, and to Larkin's credit, he didn't opt to tarnish the tradition. He knew what he was in for.
"Obviously, he's got to live with the ramifications of asking for a trade," said McClellan. "It's not comfortable for anybody. I feel bad for him. I do."
An awkward situation all around
It was awkward, for everyone, even for the folks who produce the entertainment on the video board during breaks in the game. At one point, when cameras were panning the crowd, one stopped on a fan, who held up a phone with a photo of Simon Edvinsson before the control room quickly recognized the fan's protest and cut away.
If only it were that easy. No matter how much the Wings might want to pretend, one of their talented young defensemen's contract demands won't be edited away so easily. He's currently staying in shape in Sweden, where he's from, and while Sweden is a lovely country, by all accounts, it's not where Edvinsson should be.
He should be here, and he might be here if Ilitch and his front office, such as it is, were better handling the business of operating an NHL team, an Original Six team, a team with one of the most iconic emblems in American sports.
Not that there is much iconic about the franchise at the moment, which was the point of all the boos, of course. Edvinsson's contract dispute is just another symbol of the larger struggle, of the failed Steve Yzerman-as-GM era, of the ongoing Larkin saga.
The Red Wings have had since the end of last season to sign Edvinsson, who reportedly wants around $8 million-9 million a year for four or five years. The Wings reportedly want to sign him to a short-term deal for far less.
Worse, the Wings didn't foresee Edvinsson leaving the team and going back to Sweden. It caught interim GM Shawn Horcoff off guard.
"I didn't expect that," he told reporters before the game Friday.
The standoff is yet another tough look for Ilitch, who recently said he loves hockey as much as anyone and that he is committed to restoring this franchise.
Fans don't want to hear it anymore, though. They want Edvinsson paid. They want Larkin traded. They want a permanent GM hired. They want wins.
They want a future.
Those who dressed and played Friday did their best to give them something to cheer about after a miserable, penalty-marred start. Once they found their legs, 10 minutes or so into the game, they flipped the shots on goal in the first period and clamped down on the weary Rangers, who were playing their third game of the week.
New York managed just 21 shots after firing eight in what felt like the first eight minutes. The Wings were a bit more feisty and physical and checked the Rangers into a crawl for long stretches, all while finishing with more shots by the end.
Showing some fight
New York isn't anyone's idea of a Cup contender – they finished near the bottom of the standings, before adding talent in the offseason – but, still, the board work was welcome, and so were the fisticuffs, courtesy of Marco Kasper, who put knuckle to Sean Durzi's jaw midway through the second period.
Hey, someone needed to be decisive. And when Kasper and Durzi got entangled, it drew the loudest cheer of the night.
McClellan enjoyed the pluckiness of his group for the most part and saw a few promising signs that his emphasis on dump and chase and crowd-the-net offense might work.
"I would say, give us a little time," he said.
Not what anyone wants to hear, obviously. But who can blame him? His youngish team showed some fight despite the difficult circumstances. They even had a few chances offensively.
Just not enough.
Rookie Anton Johansson hit the post on a shot, and a few other near-rushes fizzled with a pass that got nipped at the last second. It was that kind of night, and no moment exemplified it more than when the name of poor Michal Postava – a goalie starting the season in the AHL – appeared on the overhead screen in the first period as the offender in the penalty box.
The Griffins goalie wasn't anywhere near Detroit, presumably, despite the scoreboard operator's best efforts to get him there. It was the Rangers' Alberts Smits who sat in the box, and if he saw the error, he surely thought it amusing.
Good that someone potentially had a chuckle on a night when so many others wanted an exorcism. Whether they got one was hard to say. If nothing else, those who came got to vent, and loudly let the owner know what he has surely known for a while.
His fanbase is fed up, and rightly so.
Contact Shawn Windsor: swindsor@freepress.com. Follow him @shawnwindsor.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Red Wings open 101st season as fans vent their mounting frustration
