Illya's antics provide relief
Snyder's presence trails Thrashers

October 28, 2003
Rosie Dimanno
Toronto Star

Tie Domi recalls, somewhat abashedly, his early hot-dogging days, when every goal prompted a ride-the-stick shtick and speed-bag pantomime, fists aflutter.

One is reminded of the quote, attributed to multiple football coaches over the past half-century, admonishing some too-too flamboyantly celebrating touchdown ponce: "Next time you're in the end zone, try to pretend like you've been there before.''

There are tacit rules in sports about showing off and showing up the opposition.

In Domi's case, the person wagging a disapproving finger was Mark Messier, at the time his New York Rangers captain. It was after a game against the Islanders at Madison Square Garden, in which Domi had scored a goal, counted an assist and won two fights. He was irrepressible and hammy on the ice.

"Mess pulled me aside, told me, `If you want to get respect from your peers, you better show respect for your peers.'"

In an oblique fashion, Domi was referencing the supernova in the visitors' dressing room down the hall, 20-year-old Ilya Kovalchuk, who was coincidentally named offensive player of the week yesterday: seven points in three games, a league-leading 10 goals, including his second hat trick in six days. In no small part due to this torrid pace, his Atlanta Thrashers have been turning heads out of the chute, losing only once this month, just this past weekend. Second in their division, fifth in the East, and a source of interest for reasons other than last month's tragedy — the death of Dan Snyder from a car accident, teammate Dany Heatley at the wheel, seriously injured himself, now possibly facing charges of vehicular homicide.

For all the accolades, however, Kovalchuk had observers wincing last Thursday when, after potting his third goal against Nashville — into an empty net — he skated triumphantly in front of the Predators bench and pumped his fist. Over-the-top chest-beating, not for the first time.

"Ah, he's young, he'll learn,'' Domi continued, attributing the kid's faux-pas to youthful exuberance. "I'm sure somebody has spoken to him about it.''

Atlanta captain Shawn McEachern, who's provided such sturdy leadership in these trying days, shrugged off the vaudevillian display.

"Hey, he had a hat trick. He leads the league in goals. He's got a lot to be happy about.''

It's only a minor contretemps, a tempest in an espresso cup. But at the very least it provided a subject of discussion yesterday beyond Atlanta as a team in mourning.

Every city the club pulls into, players are cross-examined about Snyder and Heatley — naturally.

Yet this lends a note of gravitas to each road encounter, with gusts to bathos. Somewhere inside this bubble of solemnity, the Thrashers have to find their own ethos as a team, while reclaiming the sheer joy of the game.

The Atlanta players have done this remarkably well. There is an esprit de corps, reinforced by the loss of high-spirited Snyder and the problems facing Heatley.

But in fact that team cohesion dates back to the second half of last season, after exacting coach Bob Hartley arrived, and the club made a determined (failed) bid for the playoffs.

"We're able to put the tragedy behind us for a couple of hours every time we play a game,'' noted Hartley, before the team had their first in-person meeting with the Snyder family since their teammate's funeral in Elmira three weeks ago. The Snyders watched the game from a private box, by invitation of the Thrashers.

And there was a poignant moment when tender thoughts were directed at the Snyders from the Jumbotron, as players from both teams tapped their sticks on the ice in salutation. It was understated and elegant.

Yes, the late Snyder — his No.37 worn on Thrasher helmets and on suit lapels — hovers over the team. But he's a benign presence, almost close enough to touch.

Said Hartley: "There's nothing wrong with thinking and talking about Dan Snyder.''