My Team, My City: Stay Right Where You Are

Yet the question percolating in my mind is really this: Is my team still going to be my team? Like, seriously, I don’t live in Pittsburgh anymore, and apparently the guy with the highest bid for my team is from Kansas City. And somehow I’m edgy and nervous. Is my team still going to be my team? Are the Pittsburgh Penguins going to stay in Pittsburgh? Is my team going to remain my team?

I know the reality that professional teams move. I saw the Whalers move to Carolina and the Jets move to Phoenix. I saw franchises change their names. I know that if even the Cleveland Browns can turn into the Baltimore Ravens, well, c’mon, be real, anything can happen and often does in the world of modern professional sports. Yet none of those teams have been MY team. MY team can’t move.

Would the Penguins cease to be the Penguins if they were no longer in Pittsburgh? Would some new city give my team a new name and relegate the Pittsburgh Penguins franchise to the annals of the NHL history books? What would happen to MY team? Would anyone still know what the Stanley Cup was?

Because here’s the thing. As a Pens fan in my twenties, I don’t remember the years when my franchise was the joke of the entire league. Sure, I’ve read about those years, and of course I know my Penguins have been through bankruptcy twice in their history. Yet those aren’t my memories of my Penguins. My memories are those of Paul Coffey skating down Civic Arena ice, of Mario Lemieux’s point streak and bad back ending his point-scoring streak, and then my memories of are Stanley Cup wins, champagne in the locker room, and Hall of Fame players proudly wearing the jersey of the Pittsburgh Penguins. After the championships, I have memories of a 17 game winning streak, of Lemieux and Jagr continuing to win award after award, of a team that—by virtue of the presence of Lemieux or Jagr—always felt like it had a chance to do something come playoff time. I have memories of joy and Cup wins; I have memories of great players wearing the uniform of my NHL champion Pittsburgh Penguins.

The idea that someone wants to rip this history away and uproot MY team to Kansas City or Hartford or Winnipeg or wherever just gets my goat (sorry about the phrase). I’m bothered, enervated, on edge, and sad. I saw the Penguins become league champions. I also saw kid after kid in Pittsburgh start playing hockey. I watched ice rink after ice rink get built in Pittsburgh. I saw kids born and raised in Pittsburgh, in my city, who were ready and did and are still being drafted by NHL teams. I saw a team become a champion, be considered among the elite of the league, and develop a real fan base. I saw adults who loved the game and kids who learned to master the game that they loved to the point that they have a genuine shot at professional careers.

Sure, what I’ve had to witness the past few years has been sad. The Penguins, after years of being home to the elite stars, began to let star players leave. My team hadn’t missed the playoffs since the spring of 1990 up until a few years ago. Springtime was hockey time in Pittsburgh. Springtime was when my family and my friends knew that hockey was on—and there was always a chance that our team was going to win.

My team, our team, that team is the Pittsburgh Penguins. I don’t live in Pittsburgh anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever again take up permanent residence in hometown city. Yet the idea of my team anywhere other than my hometown makes me shudder, wince, and want to cry out and scream how very, very wrong that is
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Because whether I live in Pittsburgh or not, the Penguins belong there. The Penguins, whether it was Lemieux and Jagr starring on Civic Arena ice, or whether it’s Crosby hopefully starring on a beautiful new arena, or whether it’s any succession of players that come after Crosby’s team has hopefully won a few more Cups as Pittsburgh Penguins—the Pittsburgh Penguins are my team. No matter if Grandma’s no longer here to watch the games with us, no matter if for whatever reason I can’t watch the games with my brother, mother, or father, or even with my childhood friends, the Penguins need to stay right where they are. The Pittsburgh Penguins are the Pittsburgh Penguins, and my team needs to stay my team—things need to stay the way they are supposed to be.