Eric Lindros
PHILADELPHIA CHEERED Eric Lindros on his first day and on his last. They celebrated the club's maneuverings to acquire him in a trade dispute that rocked the NHL and they cheered him at the end, right up until the time that Scott Stevens decked him and it all went black.
PHILADELPHIA CHEERED Eric Lindros on his first day and on his last. They celebrated the club's maneuverings to acquire him in a trade dispute that rocked the NHL and they cheered him at the end, right up until the time that Scott Stevens decked him and it all went black.
Oh, there was grousing in between — because of news reports and injuries and failure to win a championship most of all. But most of that was in the media. The people who bought the tickets stuck with him because Lindros — whether wittingly or unwittingly — discovered the secret to Philadelphia popularity a long time ago.
That is, in a contest between player and management, Philadelphia fans normally choose the player. They certainly did in this case.
You have to remember the ending. It's hard to believe it was back in the spring of 2000. The first seven seasons of Lindros' career had been, uh, eventful — an MVP award and a trip to the Stanley Cup finals, but also the whole business of getting swept out of those finals by Detroit, and coach Terry Murray's assertion that the team was involved in a "choking situation," and rumors that Lindros subsequently worked to get Murray fired, and then the injuries that grew in both intensity and dramatic value.
Remember the collapsed lung where Lindros said the club was negligent, almost causing his death? After that came the concussions, and more controversy with the Flyers' doctors.
In that final season, the club — mostly general manager Bob Clarke — had had enough. It stripped Lindros of his captaincy while he was recuperating, famously allowing a television camera to film the sewing of the "C" onto Eric Desjardins' jersey before a game. It had pictures of Lindros removed from public spaces and advertisements in its facilities when it could, and airbrushed the "C" off another photo on the cover of the postseason media guide.
The club declared war.
The fans backed Lindros, who didn't return calls seeking comment on his perspective of his relationship with them.
At the end of the season, the club's most valuable player — in this case, Mark Recchi — is given an award named for Bob Clarke at the final home game. This year, the mere announcement of Clarke's name was met with a torrent of boos. There was no mistaking it or explaining it away. The people had spoken. They sided with Lindros.
And while there were mixed feelings around the club when he came back from his concussion and inserted himself into Game 6 of the Flyers' conference final series against New Jersey, he was their best player in that loss and received a huge ovation from several thousand Flyers fans at the Meadowlands. The cheers were real and sincere at home at the start of Game 7, too.
Then came Scott Stevens.
It was Lindros' final moment with the Flyers. And when he eventually came back as a member of the New York Rangers, he said, "You play in a city for 8 or 9 years, you certainly grow attached to it for a number of different things. I really enjoyed my time there. We had some pretty good teams and some really good memories playing there ...The run we had to the finals was a really fun time for our hockey team. When playoff time rolls around in Philadelphia, there's a real buzz around that city and the fans are always behind you."
Of course, when he came back that day, most everyone booed. So maybe it wasn't that simple after all. *