The Norris Party: We pledge to always check our opponents into the boards. We will not remove our gloves before we fight. We will refuse to enter the penalty box. We will never play for the tie.
The Smyth Party: We will be the party of fancy stick work and the Lady Byng trophy. We will pull our goalie regularly to set up zippy man-advantage attacks. We will lead the world in assists and fewest penalty minutes.
The Norris Party: We will crush you, Smyth Party, and all of your European-born, tea-sipping, Nancy-boy forwards. We will have no teeth. We will wear black and red.
The Patrick Party: Quit your mewling, Norris and Smyth parties. We will smash you all down with an onslaught of match penalties and slew foots. We will teach you all about goon hockey. We will make you our bitches.
The Norris Party: We will import Red Army Dynamo goons to crush your effete French Canadian croissant eating defensemen. We will not wear helmets. We will slash and stick check at will.
The Patrick Party: We will focus on smashing teeth, hyper-extending knees, and spearing opponents who try to dance around with their effete figure skater moves. Go back to the typing pool, girls. Let the real men play hockey.
The Norris Party: We will train all summer on frozen ponds in the far north of Canada. We will eat walrus and seal. We will use sticks with illegal blades and tape. We will suit all goons, all the time. All of our victories will be shutouts.
The Smyth Party: Hey, where’s the Adams Party at?
The Adams Party (shouting from offstage): Over here! They said there wasn’t room for us at the podium. And they didn’t turn our microphone on!
The Patrick Party: That’s right, Adams. You have not earned the right to sit at this stage with warrior parties like us. Consider the numbers of Stanley Cup Champions by Division from 1974 to 1992, when our grand parties ruled the NHL: Patrick won seven Stanley Cups, Smyth won six Cups, Norris won five Cups, and you, Adams? You won zero! Oh, the shame! Oh, the emasculation!
The Adams Party (shouting from offstage): We are the lovable losers! The Washington Generals on Ice!
The Norris Party: We will all come from Saskatchewan. We will rule this continent the way we rule our livestock at home. We will get drunk and pee in the Stanley Cup, which we will then leave in the baggage claim area in the Calgary airport.
The Patrick Party: We will bring the foil and the pain and take the glory. We will not be opposed to limited unity with Norris with the purposeful intent of ridding the world of the imposter Smyth and Adams Parties, but after that goal is reached, it will be “sudden death” for Norris.
The Norris Party: Go to hell, Patrick! You are secretly allied with the effete Adams Party. Don’t try to get friendly with us!
The Patrick Party: We are not interested in any friendships, just strategic allegiances. We would have joined up with you to crush Smyth, but then would have crushed you immediately after, as the U.S. should have done to Russia after World War II. But no matter, now we will just plan to crush both of you at the same time. Adams does not matter.
The Norris Party: We will ally ourselves with the NFC Central Party of the NFL and sweep out of the Great Lakes to rid the world of the tea-drinking quiche eaters in their heated sky boxes who have wreaked havoc on our once great game.
The Patrick Party: We make and need no alliances to rid the pond of tea-drinking quiche eaters.
The Adams Party (shouting from offstage): Hey, we like tea! And quiche!
The Patrick Party: Adams, you sicken us.
The Norris Party: At last we agree, Patrick Party. But we will still destroy you like a box of Democratic Presidential ballots in Cleveland. You are soft, and your Stanley Cup numbers are padded. I mean, look at who won four of your Stanley Cups: the girlie Islanders with their teal and orange jerseys, looking like a bunch of Miami Dolphins on Ice! That’s nothing to be proud of!
The Patrick Party: Just as we figured, Norris exposes the source of their hostility: Jealousy! The Islanders of ’78 to ’85 were and remain the greatest team in hockey. They didn’t need tough colors on their jerseys, they showed their strength by kicking ass, scoring goals, and making and breaking every playoff record there was. We laugh at your sad envy. Ha ha ha!
The Norris Party: Feh! Trottier, Gillies, Goring, Bossy and pals were the beneficiaries of a watered down NHL, soft after expansion. What have the Isles done since then? And what the hell kind of a hockey team has a goalie named “Chico”?
The Patrick Party: Soft after expansion? Well maybe you’re on to something there, though we did still beat up a bunch of your teams then. Talk about soft. And you really have to cut our party a break, since we do have to deal with the Rangers, for Christ’s sake.
The Norris Party: The Rangers and the Penguins. Had the Mighty Ducks been around back then, they’d have put them in the Patrick Party for sure. Losers.
The Patrick Party: True. True. Thank God they abolished us real divisions before they committed that crime against our sport. Oh, for our glory days! Oh, for hockey as it is meant to be!
The Norris Party: [Body checks The Patrick Party into the boards and breaks for the blue line]. Huttah!
3 thoughts on “Transcript of the Third Stanley Summit, 1994”
Loosely related: As a teenage lad, I waited in the lobby of the Island Inn to get the autographs of Bobby Clarke, Dave Schultz, and other members of the hated Philadelphia Flyers. I was the only fan there…
Old-time hawkey! Yeah!
One of my favorite lifetime memories was the party in the streets after the Rangers beat the Isles in the 1979 semis. Most striking image that keeps repeating is a mounted cop sidling the crowds off 7th Ave with the flanks of his huge horse. Of course, historians of my brilliant career never fail to point out that one year after my heartfelt midlife conversion to the Maple Leafs of Toronto, the Rangers won the Cup…which means my own personal Stanley Cup drought has now reached 52 years.
I actively, strongly remember that ’79 series, G . . . it was the subject of school bus grudges and fistfights, as kids were forced to declare allegiances and take sides . . . hockey fandom at its finest . . .
Now, having said all that, I started following the Capitals in the year of their inception (I lived in Northern Virginia at the time) and have yet to get to properly celebrate a Stanley Cup victory, so I do appreciate your Leaf-related duress and dilemma . . .