The injustice of it all still boggles the mind.
It's not that I have any fondness for the Mighty Whale, even though they didn't have much of a rivalry with the Sabres until they got to their new home (and the less said of that, the better).
I've got nothing against the fine people of Raleigh, except for the knowledge that it is against the laws of nature for a hockey team to have cheerleaders.
Nor am I sure that Hartford is worthy of a major-league sports franchise. Um, I don't know how to break this to you, but, well ... No.
But any fan with a heart and a soul knows the way the Whalers were taken away was simply wrong.
They survived an arena collapse and playing most of a season in an AHL rink in Springfield until the Civic Center could be fixed. They survived years of mediocrity, losing the shortest playoff overtime game ever and enduring the shame of playing a major sport in a shopping mall. And for a brief time in the WHA days, they belonged to West Springfield ... if only I could have seen them play at Eastern States Coliseum, an edifice which defines "glorious old barn."
And so, to honor the Nutmeg State and the memories of Ronnie Franchise, Kevin Dineen and the great Peter Sidorkiewicz, I present Your Song, in all it's goofy, upbeat glory.
