<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9701140241
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
970515
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Thursday, May 15, 1997
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo Illustration/RICK NEASE & BRIAN JAMES;Photo JULIAN H. GONZALEZ/Detroit Free Press;Photo MARY SCHROEDER/Detroit Free Press;Photo/Associated Press
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM Free Press Sports Writer
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>
SPECIAL SECTION; WESTERN FINALS PREVIEW
</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1997, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
ROCKIES II: THE SEQUEL
WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT ONE-HORSE TOWN?
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
I remember the good old days, when Denver was a place your plane stopped on
the way to the West Coast?

"Hey, nice mountains you got here," you'd say to some cowboy-hatted local
who was hanging  around the airport.

 
  And he'd pause for a minute, spit some tobacco and say, "Yep."

  Then you'd get back on the plane and go someplace else.

  Back then, the city had only one big sports franchise,  a football team,
the Broncos. They wore orange uniforms and were lucky if they won four games a
season. Five victories, they held a parade. 

  Nobody cared. Denver was a place you went for skiing.  It was a place you
went for boots and a saddle.

  It was not some hotbed of sports hysteria, with merchandising shops full of
teal uniforms. It was not a place you went for hockey. In fact, until last
year, Denver was where you went to get away from hockey.

  And now -- look at this mess. In one year, Denver has a Stanley Cup. Its
players have made mortal enemies out of the Red Wings. Its newspaper
columnists take swipes at Detroit.

  And tonight, the Western Conference finals begin again in a town that,
until five minutes ago, thought Zamboni was an Italian ice cream. 

  Everything is upside  down. Nothing means what it used to mean. You know
what I mean?

  Let me define the definitions:

 ROY 

* THEN: A cowboy name, as in Roy Rogers.

* NOW: A goalie whose spelling should be "WAH."

 

QUEBEC

* THEN: A province in Canada.

* NOW: The Avalanche's dirty little secret.

 

RODENT 

* THEN: A nibbling mammal, such as a rat.

* NOW: Claude Lemieux.

 

OCTOPUS 

* THEN: Sold-out fish during hockey  season.

* NOW: $6.99 a pound, plenty available.

 

GLOVES 

* THEN: What you wear to keep warm.

* NOW: The first thing that comes off in a fight.

 

SWEATER 

* THEN: What you wear to keep warm.

* NOW:  What you pull over the opponent's head before you start beating on it.

 

HELMET 

* THEN: What you wear to protect your brain.

* NOW: Where you want his fist to land.

 

REFEREE 

* THEN: Man who enforces  rules.

* NOW: Man who stands by fight and counts to 1,000.

 

BOWL 

* THEN: Round dish or basin, used for holding food.

* NOW: How Marc Crawford gets his hair cut.

 

SHOTS ON GOAL 

* THEN: Method  for counting scoring chances.

* NOW: 60 for Wings, 20 for opponent.

 

CREASE 

* THEN: Ridge or groove, produced by folding.

* NOW: What you'd like to put in the face of the dummy who invented this
rule.

 

METHUSELAH 

* THEN: Aged Biblical patriarch.

* NOW: Slava Fetisov.

 

BLOOD 

* THEN: The plasma fluid in the vascular system.

* NOW: A standing ovation.

 

GOALIE  

* THEN: The man who  protects the hockey net.

* NOW: The man who skates to center ice to attack the other goalie in a
comical wrestling match.

 

ENIGMA 

* THEN: A puzzling situation that leaves you confused.

* NOW: Scotty  Bowman.

  You get the idea? Meanings change. Cities change.

  But some things stay the same. 

  So this morning, I will fly to Denver, and when I land, I will encounter
some cowboy-hatted local  who will ask me this question: "You don't really
think your Wings can beat our Avalanche, do you?"

  And I'll pause, spit some tobacco and say . . .

  "Blecchh, this stuff is awful!"

  And the  answer is yes.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
HOCKEY; COLUMN; PLAYOFF; RED WINGS; AVALANCHE
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
