Mapping a Hockey Town

To devoted American hockey fans, Canada can be insufferable at times.

In the eyes of some, Canadian hockey pride often descends to arrogance, parochialism, and dismissiveness towards others.

But if Canadians nurture an annoying sense of entitlement about the game we invented, at least we come by it honestly.

Consider the Dan Cleary story.

Cleary got the Hockey Night in Canada treatment on Saturday, with a profile that included a visit to his home in Riverhead, Newfoundland.

The Detroit forward is looking to become Newfoundland's first Stanley Cup winner, a quest that's earned plenty of coverage, including a recent column by Mitch Albom at the Detroit Free Press.

“Next to our house,” Cleary says, “lived my aunt. And next to them was the LeBlancs, my third cousins. And next to them were more cousins. And next to them were distant cousins..."

That’s kind of how it works up there. Cleary honed his hockey skills in a rink in his backyard. At 14, he was so good, the only answer was to leave. He took his first plane ride. It was to Toronto. Until that point, he says, “I had never seen a building higher than two stories.”

Albom lays it on a bit thick. But if you live in Detroit, a tiny town overlooking the North Atlantic is pretty exotic.

I should acknowledge a personal connection here. Cleary's hometown is just up the shore from Clarke's Beach, where my dad was born, and about 90 minutes from my home in St. John's, which is Newfoundland's capital city.

As with many far-flung Canadian outposts, you could map St. John's by its hockey connections.

Just up the hill from my house is a rink called St. Bon's, where I play every Sunday. The Zamboni driver there is married to Scottie Upshall's aunt.

Further north is the university, where my wife works in the same department as Ryan Clowe's sister.

Make your way back towards downtown and you'll find Joe Slaney's barbershop. He's John Slaney's dad.

The old stadium down by the lake is where players like Felix Potvin and Danny Markov began their pro careers. During junior games at the new downtown stadium I used to sit a couple of rows over from a man who played three seasons in the WHA.

Get on the highway heading west and you'll find the homes of Cleary, Terry Ryan, Michael Ryder, Alex Faulkner, Joe Lundrigan, Darren Langdon, Doug Grant, and guys I've no doubt forgotten.

Those are just the big-league connections. We won't get into all the other familiar faces, the coaches and scouts, the stars of fondly remembered junior and senior teams, or the guys who could have made it big, if only...

It's a classic Canadian scenario. You'll find thousands of similar tales everywhere in the country. (Newfoundland's contribution to big-time hockey is miniscule. The web of connections in a place like rural Alberta must be endless.)

So when Canadians ridicule Gary Bettman's vision of American domination, or mock the NHL for prostituting itself to uninterested towns like Phoenix and Miami, or roll our eyes when places like Kansas City and Las Vegas are mentioned as potential expansion sites, or insist that this is the place where hockey matters more, it's not just grandstanding.

The NHL spectacle, with its 20,000 seat stadiums, outlandish ticket prices and $12 beers, is the tip of a very large iceberg.

Well below is where the game truly lives and thrives, at places like Joe Slaney's barbershop, St. Bon's Arena, and on the streets of Riverhead.

(Photo: Jim McIsaac/Getty Images)