The Night The Celebration Stopped

Has it really been 10 years?

I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was in our dining room playing IndyCar Racing 2 when our phone rang. I didn't pay much attention as I was lapping my car around one of the fantasy tracks that someone with more computer knowledge than myself had come up with. A couple of minutes later, my dad appeared in the doorway. He had tears in his eyes. He informed me that that was a relative on the phone. A family friend of theirs worked in the ER at Royal Oak Beaumont Hospital. He had just called their house to break the news. My dad told me, "There was a limo crash with some of the Red Wings inside. Two of them are in surgery and they're not sure if they're going to make it. One of them is Konstantinov. The other one is so bad they're not sure who it is."

My IndyCar went straight up into the wall.

An hour or so later, the story broke on the news and Metro Detroit came to a halt. What was looking to be a fun summer filled with celebrations, appearances by the Cup at every random party/concert/event suddenly was put on hold. When less than a week before we were crying tears of joy over our Red Wings' first Stanley Cup in 42 years, we were now crying tears of sorrow and sending up prayers by the thousands for our "Broken Wings".

Woodward Avenue--the sight of the accident--was suddenly filled with teddy bears, photos, flowers, cards, in a makeshift memorial for the men involved. Though the tree that they crashed into is no longer there, I can't help but think of them every time I drive by the street sign near the sight.

There's still a hockey stick in my basement which--through the dirt and dust of 10 years--you can still dimly read "16" and "SM" written in black pen on the knob. I still look at the Championship Banner Raising poster that's hanging in my bedroom back in Michigan. There's a collage of pictures from the previous season and one of them is Konstantinov, dressed as the Vladinator, at the Championship rally. It's hard to look at that photo, knowing that less than a week later he would be near death, and his life would never be the same again. It's hard to watch that clinching game of the Stanley Cup Finals, knowing that it was the last time Konstantinov would ever lay out an opponent.

The next season there was no way that team was going to be denied. With "Believe, VK/SM" patches on their jerseys (and with those patches selling like hotcakes around Detroit--I've got them on my Doug Brown and Tomas Holmstrom jerseys), the Wings weren't simply on a quest to defend their title. They were on a mission to win it for their fallen comrades.

Who could ever forget that championship run? The incredible ovation the first time Konstantinov was spotted at a Wings game after the accident? And let me tell you, it got really dusty in Metro Detroit when Steve Yzerman took the Stanley Cup and placed it on the lap of Vladimir Konstantinov, in his wheel chair, the next June.

10 years. It's hard to believe.

In honor of Vladdy, I present the following video clips. Try not to cry when you watch the first one. I dare you: