Personal reflections on Mike Modano, what could have been, and Dallas' next 'Mighty Mo'

Let's also answer a fun question: who's the next Modano?

Let’s get personal.

If you grew up with hockey in Texas, you were a rare breed. Hockey wasn’t something you naturally grew up with. It wasn’t a sport that people naturally talked about. To the extent that hockey was covered, the conversation wasn’t natural either. Anybody writing about it didn’t know it, at least not really. (Exception being the OG, Mike Heika.) The tone of it all had the fragrance of that old Rodney Dangerfield joke, about ‘going to a fight, and a hockey game breaking out.’ Mike Modano changed that.

My editor, friend, and good guy Mike Piellucci (who is a new dad!) said it best in his piece for D Magazine, comparing Modano to the other greats in Dallas’ stories sports history.

…only Modano had to embody an entire sport, to serve as proof of concept that a man on ice could dazzle and captivate even in the heart of football country.

Modano single-handedly changed the perception of hockey in Texas. I’ll never forget the experience of seeing his cameo in The Mighty Ducks, which sure, was big because I loved that movie as a kid, but for those of who grew up with hockey, it also validated our investment, making us feel like sports fans instead of carnival patrons.

Granted, this isn’t the correct way to be a fan of something. But growing up, I wanted to fit in like anyone else. And it’s always easier to fit in by being in on a conversation everybody already knows. Obviously, even then, not everyone knew hockey. But they knew Modano. Modano didn’t just make hockey accessible. He made it hip.

It’s fitting then, that he was officially immortalized on Saturday.

Despite watching Modano in his prime, I can’t actually speak to “fond memories” or whatever. As I’ve disclosed before, I got into hockey for the enforcers. Instead of checking out the books I should have been reading to make me a functional adult, I was using the Nolan Catholic high school library for Stan Fischler’s Bad Boys. Shane Churla, Todd Harvey, Derian Hatcher — those were my stars. I recorded games in the 90s just to rewatch their fights.

Being young and impressionable, my ear had jamokes like Don Cherry talking shit about European players because they were “soft and skilled” and yea, I bought some of it — sure, Modano wasn’t European but he wasn’t dishing out big hits like Hatcher or Craig Ludwig. “Why can’t Modano hit somebody?” my young, dumbass self thought, as if effort and violence were the same. So I loved Modano because I knew that without him the Stars would suck, but I didn’t truly appreciate him.

For me it was all about the initial allure of hockey. Within the typical frame of stick and ball gamesmanship is something wholly atypical — the dissipation of typical stick and ball metaphors for dominance in favor of literal savagery leveraged for dominance.

Modano was frequently the recipient of that savagery. It’s why Dallas brought in Brent Severyn in 1999. I mention all of this because it was Modano who re-wired my brain when it came to thinking about toughness, and how I learned to eventually tune out voices like Cherry. Who can forget Mike Modano taking a brutal hip check from Jay McKee (McKee was basically off-brand Scott Stevens), clearly getting injured as a result, and responding with “I have the rest of my life to heal”? At last I got to see toughness through the prism of imagination, endurance, and even vulnerability. (Even within those extremes, one of the greatest boxing performances ever was defined more by creativity and anticipation than hulk smash, despite Ali’s strategy versus Foreman being severely misunderstood by casual fans.)

Modano had 23 points in 23 games the year Dallas won the Cup. That’s how I remember Mike Modano: as a tough guy.

Quick hot take re: Modano history

It’s always been my personal “what if?” Many will argue that Dallas doesn’t win the Cup without Modano’s buy-in toward Ken Hitchcock’s system. Based on what? The cliche that ‘defense wins championships?’ I always personally felt like Modano should have been unleashed. Maybe they don’t win in 1999, but how might it have been enough in 1998 or 2000? Just saying.

Don’t get my point confused: that’s certainly not to say I’m not grateful. What I mean is that a Cup alone is not proof of concept. Nikita Kucherov isn’t defensively responsible, but who thinks he wasn’t critical to Tampa’s two Cups? Just saying.

So who’s the next ‘Modano’?

I don’t know. Modano wasn’t just a speedster, though. It’s worth remembering that Modano played during the clutch and grab era. The fact that he was able to execute in full gallop so frequently is a testament to his instincts. The simplest answer is Roope Hintz, but meh. Yes, I see the speed, the flapping jersey, and the brilliant wrist shot. In full stride, Hintz might be even faster. But as Jack Han astutely pointed out in our discussion, Hintz’ key moments occur when he’s playing like a wing rather than a center.

Hintz is a lot quieter, for lack of a better term, than Modano. That’s not a criticism. If anything, it speaks to the subtleties of his game. But I recall Modano as a wrecking ball. If I recall, he led the 1999 postseason in takeaways, and he had a net front presence…similar to, dare I say…Wyatt Johnston? Although I also think Logan Stankoven fills those skates in similar ways. Like Modano, Stankoven is an undeniable physical presence; a genuine force of nature.

And no, I don’t think this is about recency bias. If anything, it’s future bias. Johnston is about to break 60 points, and he’s only 20; Modano scored 64 as a twenty-year old. It’s hard not to think about the scope of what Johnston and Stankoven can accomplish given what they already have.

Oh yea: quick thoughts on the statue

Good stuff. I’m just glad the jersey was open. To me that image of Modano’s jersey flapping around like the dust underneath a roadrunner’s feet was more iconic and significant than Modano holding the Cup. If they had gone with the image of Modano holding a Cup, it would have suggested that winning a Cup was an event so rare for Dallas Stars hockey that it needed to be immortalized, which — ideally, will not be a rare event at all. Modano, conversely, was a rare player.