June 13th. One of my least favorite days of the year. On this day, two men that I was really close to lost their careers and almost their lives. Didn't seem fair in 1997 and it still doesn't today.
Much has been said about how we celebrated the responsible way. Yeah, we drank. A lot. But we didn't drive. We took limos everywhere that week. Yet tragedy still struck Vladdy and Sergei and it struck our entire team.
I still live near the crash site. Even though lightning would cruelly strike and destroy the tree less than a month after they hit it, I know exactly where it was, the exact median on Woodward, and the location, down to the foot. I drive past it almost daily and still it fixates my glare.
Not far away, Beaumont Hospital, where Vladdy and Sergei would spend months, and I would stop by daily...hoping for a miracle that never came.
Sure, elite medical care, rehabilitation and Vladdy's sheer will to live is why he is still with us 29 years later, but the miracle of he and Sergei Mnatsakanov having even a remotely normal life missed them.
And for that, I will always be angry. I will always wish they never got in that limo or even came to the golf course that day. Neither one of them played even one hole, they weren't golfers... they came to be with their teammates. To celebrate one last time before we all went our separate ways.
Unfair. Cruel.
So I choose to celebrate those men. Sergei has passed but he will never be forgotten. Such an amazing family man, masseur and friend. He never got the credit he deserved for helping that 97 team play at it's best. He was a blessing to me and all the players.
Vladdy? Man, what a warrior. What a great human being and hockey player. Easily the toughest player I had the privilege of working with. He would play through anything... and he did.
I think about him often...wish life was better to and for him. But I do not pity him. Vladdy wouldn't allow it. I love and appreciate him, and I know his fans do too.