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Roenick's story is must read
Hockey great finds his home in San Jose after peculiar path

By Jim Adams
12:01 a.m. PT Apr 4, 2008

If there is no other story you read about a professional athlete this year, this must be it. Before this column goes to the bottom of the bird cage, you must cut this out and keep it.

It is a story of rise and fall, success and failure, victory and defeat. It is a tale of a man who endured triumph, trial and tribulation throughout a rich career. It is the adventure of a National Hockey League star whose flame burned bright, only to see it fade to near extinction through a series of events as his playing days seemingly came to a close.

Jeremy Roenick is an American hockey product. Born in Boston in 1970, he made a big splash on the professional sports scene in 1988 when he was drafted eighth overall in the first round by the Chicago Blackhawks. In only 20 games that rookie year, he recorded 18 points. As fate would have it, his first roommate would be Sharks General Manager Doug Wilson.

Roenick tore up the National Hockey League for the next 15 years in Chicago, Phoenix and Philadelphia. He was arguably one of the game's best, hitting the 50-goal plateau in both the '91-92 and '92-93 seasons. He became a mainstay on every team for which he competed during this era, perhaps the most recognizable sports figure in each of the three cities where he played.

JR became synonymous with high achievement. It was a rare year in which he did not lead his team in scoring. He was relied upon for grit, scoring, and wins.

He delivered, in most cases, well beyond expectations.

He brought a level of performance to the arena each night that made him the envy of the NHL. Roenick was the cornerstone of the franchises for which he played and attracted fans in droves to experience his unique style of play. All three teams arguably achieved a level of success during his tenure to which they have never really been able to return.

Quite frankly, he did it all.

JR is much the "throw back player." He is a prototype of decades past, when players were down to earth, spoke their minds, were approachable, and played for the love of the game. Roenick is frank. He does speak his mind. There is no reading between the lines. He is a retro-type player who will sit down and answer each question from the heart, honestly, frankly, candidly, without hesitation. He pulls no punches and refuses to posture his responses.

Spending an hour with Roenick often produces the most enlightening reflection of a team and a sport that a writer would ever desire. It is frank, but refreshing. It is honest, yet, at times, blunt.

Roenick is more than a sports figure. He is a true entertainer. He is driven by success. His unbridled competitive nature and dedication to the sport he loves made him one of hockey's most delightful and refreshing figures. There have been few with the character of Roenick who brought this level of intensity to the rink every night.

Yet, there was something dreadfully wrong as the 2005-06 season dawned with his new team, The Los Angeles Kings.

A squad void of what you might call major talent, they would place the fortune of the franchise largely on his shoulders. It became his responsibility to deliver them to the Promised Land. Forget that he had little of the cast he enjoyed in Chicago, Phoenix, and Philadelphia. He was tasked with producing a winner in Los Angeles.

The problem was that the parts to the puzzle simply were not in place. It was a tough task. He played in a full season career low of 58 games. His production was its lowest since his 20 game rookie season. Not only did it appear as though his natural talent had betrayed him, it was tough for him to remain silent through the struggles.

He remembers, "There were some sports writers who gained their reputation at my expense along the way."

Some wondered whether Roenick's best days were behind him. Although he felt to the contrary, there were those who felt he was not necessarily the influence they wanted. After one year in Los Angeles, his tenure as a King was done.

He moved back to Phoenix for another stint with the Coyotes. Yet, the 2006-07 season would effectively go worse for him. He simply did not recapture the magic of the late '90s with the Coyotes.

Not only did he notch a mere 28 points in 70 games, he was at times at odds with Coach Wayne Gretzky. It simply was not working. He was a healthy scratch and there were too many responsibilities on his shoulders for the success of this young, inexperienced team. JR was up front. He voiced his opinion.

He was as candidly honest about the situation as he had been in the first decade of his career. Only this time, what needed to be said was more negative, more controversial. It was the truth. However, no one wanted to hear it and they most assuredly did not want Roenick to say it.

Yet, at the age of 37, JR was not about to change his ways. It was not the fit. As he exited Phoenix at season's end, most knew he would not be asked back.

Some wondered if he would be asked back anywhere. Was this the end of the road? Would it come to a crashing, unforgiving end? Was this the way it was meant to conclude ... in such an unfulfilling, painful way? Were the same qualities that made him such an important part of the game those that would usher him out? He was a scant five goals away from the 500-goal plateau. Yet, it appeared all-for-not.

There was little interest as spring turned to summer. The phone was not ringing. There were no teams requesting his service.

The poor showing in Phoenix was plaguing him and as days became weeks and weeks became months, Jeremy Roenick faced retirement.

He gradually accepted that it was the end of the road. The struggle with the ending was unpleasant. He enjoyed his Phoenix area home with his wife and family. Yet, he felt he still had a lot to contribute. He felt there was still gas in the tank. There was somewhere where he could make his mark and re-discover his talent.

Yet, the dog days of August had dawned. Training camp was on the immediate horizon. Roenick had nowhere to go. An incredibly illustrious career was crashing down around him.

There came a point at which he accepted retirement. It was a done deal. He had called it a career. He had witnessed great success and now there was a pang of failure. It should not end this way, with such disappointment.

If only he had one more chance.

TOMORROW: He gets a phone call that would change it all.

Jim Adams, lives in Nevada City, is a regular contributor to The Union, a broadcaster for TouchDown Productions. He may be reached via e-mail at adamses@inreach.com.