Journeyman by Sean Pronger

Author:Sean Pronger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Canada

9

OUTWARD BOUND

Winnipeg, Manitoba—or, as it’s more affectionately known, Winter-peg, Man-it’s-cold-out-here! An outpost, as far as many are concerned, but I was thrilled. Winnipeg was a homecoming of sorts for me. I grew up a short three-and-a-half-hour drive east of the ’Peg, and many times in my childhood the Pronger family hopped into our wood-panelled minivan to make the trek to the big city. To get traded there was exciting. And Manitoba was in the IHL, which was my preferred minor league (it’s sad to have a preferred minor league, I know). Randy Carlyle was the general manager and head coach, and Scott Arniel was his assistant. Talk about a walk down memory lane. Chris and I had watched both of them as members of the Jets. Back then Randy chose to wear a mullet instead of a helmet. Nevertheless, he was a crafty defenceman who played with an edge; kind of like the way he coaches. Arniel was a smoothskating winger with good hands. They both had a wealth of hockey knowledge and the respect of the players because of their résumés. The assistant GM at the time was Craig Heisinger (aka Zinger), and I would get to know Zinger very well over the following year and a half.

It’s funny to look back now and see how things could have been different. I truly believe if I didn’t get traded to Manitoba my hockey career would’ve been shortened by about four years. Winnipeg reignited my passion for the game. That was my first time playing for a Canadian team, and even though it was in the minors I couldn’t help but feel the energy the city had for the game. Yes, there are some great minor league cities in the States. There are proud franchises with enthusiastic fan bases that support their team. But there is just something different when you play in Canada. No doubt I’m biased, and I do consider myself an unabashed overthe-top patriot. Still, playing in Winnipeg meant playing where people knew who you were. The Moose (although not the Jets) were Manitoba’s hockey team at the time and fans cared about the guys who played for the club. The Moose were not second fiddle, and as a player I could feel that.

When I arrived at the Winnipeg airport it felt different from the million other times I had landed there. Instead of it being a brief stopover on the way home, it was home. The air was crisp. It was hockey weather. Heisinger picked me up at the airport and I didn’t know what to make of him. He showed up dressed like he’d just got back from ice fishing (which he very well might have). He casually grabbed my stuff and started walking to the car. This is a guy who worked himself from trainer in the Western Hockey League up to assistant general manager in the National Hockey League. Little did I know that the future assistant GM of the Winnipeg Jets was carrying my hockey bag.

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