Fischler honored by Islanders at UBS Arena

ELMONT, N.Y. --Stan Fischler was nearly speechless after the New York Islanders honored the longtime hockey historian by naming the press box at UBS Arena the Stan Fischler Press Level on Wednesday.

Known by many as "The Maven," Fischler wanted 70 minutes to talk before the Islanders hosted the New York Rangers. After all, it was his night.
"I was told this is my affair, right? I should be able to do whatever I want," Fischler said. "How many do I have left? Seven seconds?"
It took about three seconds for Fischler, the 90-year-old legendary journalist who covered the Islanders since the inaugural season of 1972-73, who's written more than 100 books, is in the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame, and even after retirement writes a weekly scrapbook for NHL.com, to be rendered silent. It happened when Islanders co-owner Jon Ledecky, Hockey Hall of Fame defenseman Denis Potvin and NHL Deputy Commissioner Bill Daly unveiled a shrine of Fischler's clippings, hockey sticks, skates, images and other paraphernalia that will greet those working on or visiting the fourth floor.
All Fischler could say was, "Wow." The first time he was advised this would happen, he was told about the completion of a book commemorating the 50th anniversary season of the Islanders. He was asked for ideas to celebrate 50 years of Islanders hockey, so he wrote down about 20 of them and was connected to a conference call.
Then the news broke that the press room would be named in his honor.
"What do you think my first reaction was? It's got to be some kind of joke, right? I mean, (I) couldn't believe it, but it wasn't a joke," Fischler said. "It isn't a joke."

No joke is Fischler's legacy, Daly calling him the foremost hockey historian in the world and the most prodigious hockey writer in history. Daly grew up a Rangers fan in Kinnelon, New Jersey, watching the Islanders on SportsChannel. He recalled Fischler being tough on his favorite team, but with reporting coming from the right place.
"That's about making the game bigger and better and more accessible to everybody in the New York area at that time, and so that meant a lot to me," Daly told NHL.com. "I give a lot of credit to the New York Islanders and ownership here for going out of their way to do what feels right, which is to honor all he's meant to the game and to this franchise in particular. It's beyond my words, really. He's a great man."
Fischler covered the first game in Islanders history, a 3-2 loss to the Atlanta Flames at Nassau Coliseum in Uniondale, New York, on Oct. 7, 1972. After Ledecky and Scott Malkin became minority owners in October of 2014, one of the first things Ledecky did was call Fischler and invite him to lunch to learn about the team.
Ledecky got what Fischler called a graduate course in Islanders hockey and copies of his books to continue his education.
"To be able to talk to a guy who was there literally from the day the Islanders were formed to today," Ledecky said, "and understand the richness of the franchise starting, beating the Rangers that first time going to the first Cup semifinals, winning the first Cup (in 1980), his eyes light up and all of a sudden, you're there in the moment. You're there with (Bobby) Nystrom scoring the iconic goal, you're there with the quadruple overtime (Easter Epic against the Washington Capitals in 1987). All of a sudden, you're on the ice with Stan and as an owner of a team, to have that firsthand account of the history of the team is invaluable."

Potvin, a stalwart during the dynasty years, said the most fun he had with Fischler was talking jazz and hearing stories of how he was once a drummer. Over time, he learned about Fischler's character and shared a direct quote from Fischler about what he's most proud of: the interns he mentored who went on to have successful careers in the industry.
"How humble is that?" Potvin said.
Fischler's time at the podium eventually ran out 60 minutes earlier than he wanted, but not before one more story about his Bar Mitzvah in Brooklyn in 1945. The first words were, "this is the most important day of my life." Seventy-seven years later, he had one that rivaled it.
He then had to stop. The next line would have been a joke and he didn't want to get in trouble. Fischler soaked in the honor and offered sincere gratitude.
"I love you all," Fischler said. "I can't believe this is happening. But if I wake up tomorrow and it's happening, that's what I have to say. Thanks."