Michael Peca

Where is that big-bodied forward that played for the Islanders in the early 2000’s?

Where is that forward that used to be part of the 7’s line with Michael Peca and Shawn Bates?

Where is Mark Parrish?

When the puck drops in October ushering on another Islanders season, we all sit in anticipation of what may be. This hope makes us realize why we love this team all over again, every single year. For a fan base starving for winning on a consistent and familiar basis, the beginning of the season leaves us hopeful, sometimes without much reason. There have been years walking through the doors of the Old Barn realistically knowing that we were about to witness the tapping of a keg full of losing hockey. Call us delusional if you want but I prefer passionate.

In the mass of orange and blue, I reside. It has been that way since I was a young boy. I never really stood a chance really, simply because they were my first love. You'd think with first memories of a horrendous team through the mid to late nineties I would have turned and run far, far away. But I didn't. I stood by this team, just as I do now because I love them unconditionally although it hurts a lot of the time. I don't know exactly where I was hooked forever but I know I am. Maybe it was the slick hands and awesome hair of Ziggy Palffy. Or perhaps it was the hard hitting, hard nosed style of Darius Kasparaitis? Could it be the legitimate tears that filled my eyes as Michael Peca disappeared into the locker room in 2002 after that cheap shot from Darcy Tucker? It might have been the literal seismic wave that eclipsed all of Nassau County after Shawn Bates buried that penalty shot against Curtis Joseph. All of these moments and more, knit themselves into a thread that binds all of us together.