Let me preface this by saying you absolutely should not hate the Carolina Hurricanes. I’ve followed this franchise for near as long as I can remember and have nothing but the utmost respect for what the organization has accomplished during it’s relatively short time in Raleigh. There are tons of fantastic and devoted people who work for the club and have helped make it a paragon of class and integrity in the sporting world. So I implore you to please not hate the Carolina Hurricanes.
But you totally could, because…
The Goal Celebration Is Ridiculous
Imagine you’re sitting in your seat at a Hurricanes game blissfully enjoying the high-speed action as Eric Staal pushes the puck up along the boards to Alexander Semin, who in turn slides the puck across the opponents crease to Jeff Skinner who taps the puck in for an easy, yet beautiful, goal. You and several thousand other fans leap to your feet in celebration, cheering and roaring your approval.
And then this happens:
At first, it seems alright, because it’s typical hockey fare with the loud horn over a generic rock beat (Blur’s “Song 2” in this case). Then Ric Flair gives a “Woo!” and the whole thing delves into the world of the bizarre. You have Fred Flintstone, Chewbacca, and Tarzan all making completely uncalled for appearances for seemingly no reason at all. It’s confusing, irritating, and, frankly, a little bit scary.
They (Allegedly) Nearly Killed Their Mascot
Back in 1997 the Hurricanes were moved to North Carolina without a building to play in. What was then named the RBC Centre was yet to be completed, and there wasn’t a building anywhere in the Triangle that was capable of hosting the team. The organization attempted to overcome this by playing their home games in the Greensboro Coliseum, about a one hour drive from Raleigh.
Thais decision turned out to be a nearly unmitigated disaster. The Greensboro Coliseum was the largest building in the league at the time, and looked absolutely cavernous with the very low attendance one would expect from such a situation.
But as ugly as the attendance at the games appeared, it pales in comparison to what happened to the Canes mascot.
“The announcer, thinking Stormy didn’t hear his cue, repeated the introduction. Nothing happened. The Zamboni drove back off the ice. The fans wondered what in the hell was going on. It turned out that the guy in the Stormy suit was an epileptic with claustrophobia. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the ice chamber of the Zam and this caused him to have a seizure. Honest.”
That’s from http://www.patrickwgarrett.com/Hockey/stormy.shtml and is not the only version of this story.
Unfortunately it’s hard to verify this story, as it occurred seventeen years ago and you can bet nobody in the organization is bringing it up any time soon, but it’s a tale that has been out there for quite some time. If anyone reading this was actually at that game, I’d love to hear about it.
Since the beginning, the Hurricanes logos have been a source of revilement across the league. Described as a “flushing toilet,” Canes fans have had to endure fans and media members alike bashing their primary crest. Personally, I don’t think it’s a terrible logo, but it certainly qualifies as being at least a little bit silly.
Unfortunately for the Hurricanes, though, it doesn’t stop there.
Do you see that red flag on former Hurricane Jussi Jokinen’s chest? That’s not the symbol for a hurricane warning. A single flag denotes a storm warning or a gale force wind warning. A hurricane is denoted by two flags and, boy, do Canes fans hear about it.
There’s perfect justification for the logo being the way it is, of course. The Hurricanes are owned and operated by an entity known as Gale Force Sports and Entertainment so the single flag on the logo makes sense. Unfortunately for the Hurricanes, the beautiful thing about hatred is that it doesn’t need to be rational.