The Coach Comes Back

A lot of stories will be told about coach Al Arbour Saturday night. Rightfully so. You rarely find someone so admired that it's difficult to find someone that nobody has a bad word about. All of his players loved playing for him. We know that. We also know that our coach, Ted Nolan, respects the man so much that he went to Islanders management about whether or not they could have Coach Arbour behind the bench one last time so that he'd have coached an even 1500 games for the franchise.

I'm just feeling a little like piling on. Everyone has such kind words for the man known as Radar that I feel like adding one of my own.

It was 1994 NHL Entry Draft in Hartford. Yes, this was the draft immortalized to my circle of friends as the day when my buddy Vic asked, "Who's that old guy?" while Mr. Hockey himself, Gordie freaking Howe, was signing autographs.

I've never been to a draft before that (or since) and I didn't know what to expect. I did know, however, that I was nerd enough to stay for the whole thing unless the boys got bored and wanted to leave. So, with my trusty Hockey News Draft Issue on my lap, I sat down and waited to see who the Isles were going to choose to turn the ship around. (It was Brett Lindros and if he had turned his head around he may have had a few less concussions.)

Coach Al Arbour had just led the team to a fourth place finish and a 4-0 whitewash out of the playoffs. Old hand Lorne Henning was driving the ship and Don Maloney was the new GM. Coach now was at the Islanders draft table as an advisor. Truth is, as I people watched the draft floor, no one was really consulting with Arbour. He seemed to be out of his element a bit, uncomfortable, and fidgety. Maloney and his people were walking around, grinning, shaking hands, and slapping backs.

After a while, I was feeling kinda froggy, so I went down to the boards where Coach Arbour was standing. We began to chat a little bit. It wasn't much, believe me, but the nerd in me was practically exploding over the fact that I was shooting the breeze with Coach Al Arbour. And you know what? He was a heck of a nice guy. He told me that the draft had gotten to a be such a big deal and that it used to be more of a closed-door conference room-kind of thing. I asked him about retirement and being an advisor to the team and whatnot and he said that he figured he was happy enough to help out when he could. All I could think--but I never said it--was that one of the greatest coaches in sports history was at their disposal and yet Al Arbour was standing there, bemused, talking over his shoulder to a kid from Connecticut.

After I was sure I had bothered him enough, I extended my hand and said, "Thanks, Coach." Al Arbour looked at me with a bit of a confused look on his face. "Thanks for everything," I said. I knew right then and there that he had no clue as to what I was talking about and that is what makes Al Arbour such a great guy. He treated all of his players well, all of the media members well, and even random dudes at the 1994 NHL Entry Draft well. He has his name on the Stanley Cup six times and yet, it still a regular, humble guy. Al Arbour is worthy of our admiration.

So, again, thanks Coach. Thanks for everything. I learned a ton about people in the three or four minutes we spent chatting. And good luck against those Penguins. We are all incredibly happy and proud that you're coming back for another kick at the can.