If These Walls Could Talk: San Jose Sharks

As the radio voice of the San Jose Sharks since the team's inception, Dan Rusanowsky has witnessed more than his fair share of Sharks history up close and personal. Through singular anecdotes only Rusanowsky can tell as well as conversations with current and past players, If These Walls Could Talk: San Jose Sharks provides fans with a one-of-a-kind, insider's look into the great moments, the lowlights, and everything in between. It's the perfect gift for any Sharks fan in your life, especially with the holidays approaching.

Here's an excerpt from Chapter 7 of the book - "The Characters":
Because we are as much hockey fans as broadcasters, we tend to get excited watching and describing the great stars make all of those amazing plays each night. However, we also focus on the larger picture of a team's full body of work over the course of a season, with all of the implications for the present and future, and what the subtleties are in that magical process.
Is a team contending for a division title? Who might get traded? What's the magic number to get to the playoffs? What does the free agent list look like? Who are the unsung heroes? What are the human interest stories? Our lives are certainly comprised of a series of questions.
One of the benefits of working closely with a team is that it's possible to really to get to know the players and observe how they handle their journey through their careers. No two players are alike in terms of personality, and everyone is unique in the way that they approach preparing for a game. We also get to see how much work that the coaches, trainers, and support staff put into providing an environment where the team can be successful.
Every locker room has its characters, and the Sharks have had theirs over the years. They certainly know how to keep it light in what can be on otherwise long season, and they're all business when the puck drops and action begins. Some of those characters stand out in my mind.
Let's begin with Al Iafrate, a hulk of a defenseman who possessed one of the hardest shots the NHL has ever seen. Al came to the Sharks at the end of his career, acquired from Boston for a popular, heart-and-soul Shark, Jeff Odgers. Toronto made Iafrate the fourth overall pick in 1984, and he played 10 years for the Maple Leafs, Capitals, and Bruins before arriving in San Jose as a 30-year-old who was battling a variety of serious injuries.
We liked to call him "Big Al." I swear that he always seemed out of action with one serious injury or another, and he had a unique way of expressing the graphic details of his medical chart. According to Al, he never had any bumps or bruises, and he never "hurt" or "injured" anything. No, it was always a little more dramatic, say, "I ruptured my back," or "I shattered my knee," or "that can cause a compound fracture." He was very descriptive.
These strains, ruptures, lacerations, abrasions, and other impairments limited Iafrate to 59 games in two seasons with the Sharks before he announced his retirement at age 31.
The first time I saw Iafrate was in Washington while he was in the prime of his career with the Capitals. This was in the early 1990s. Back then the workout facilities were rudimentary. Teams hadn't yet invested in state-of-the-art training rooms that accompany a practice rink today. At the old Cap Centre in Landover, Maryland, the rink had those old-fashioned exercise bikes at one end of the building. Al was riding a bike while listening to heavy-metal music, completely naked.
We were inside Reunion Arena in Dallas, when he was with the Sharks. The visiting locker room was at one end. These older buildings don't have as much security or ways to keep the players isolated from the public. And, like a number of players from that old-school hockey fraternity, Al smoked. He lit cigarettes with the blow torch used to prepare hockey sticks.
So there was Big Al, cigarette in hand, working on his sticks, totally naked, standing just outside the Sharks' locker room. The area was semi-private, but the end of the corridor opened up to a public area, and those fans walking past into the building could see where Al was standing if they glanced in that direction.
Sensing a problem, a Reunion Arena security guard rushed in Iafrate's direction, a serious, determined look on her face. "Sir!" she exclaimed sharply, as Al peered back at her with his trademark, deadpan stare. "There's no smoking in the arena!"
I guess that being naked in front of the fans was fine with this particular security guard, but smoking was absolutely out of the question.
Along with his coaches and teammates, Al was frustrated with his absences from the lineup, especially because the Sharks desperately needed offense from the blue line. During one post-practice media scrum, Darryl Sutter was asked how the team's patience was being tested with Big Al's injury situation. In typical Sutter style, he replied, "They'd like to pile his equipment in the middle of the room and burn it."
Biting sarcasm aside, I think that Al had a very good influence on his defense partner, Mike Rathje, who was playing under a lot of pressure back then. He took Rathje under his wing and shared that relaxed attitude that always seemed in abundance.
Another time, we were in Vancouver, and Al was out with an injury again. I was broadcasting a number of games alone back on those days, and I'd be joined occasionally by players who weren't in the lineup. On this particular night, Al jumped on the radio with me, and by the middle of the game, he decided that it was time for a cigarette. There was no smoking in the arena, of course, but the gondola in Vancouver is separated from the rest of the press area and is somewhat contained, so Al lit up.
Suddenly, on the ice, the wheels fell completely off the cart for the Sharks. The Canucks flew up the ice with ease against very little defense, there was a nice move at the blue line, and the puck was in the back of the net.
As I finished calling the play, Big Al took an audible drag on his recently lit cigarette, blew out the smoke, and said, "I'm baffled, Dan." It was all I could do to avoid bursting out in laughter on the air.
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This excerpt from If These Walls Could Talk: San Jose Sharks by Dan Rusanowsky with Ross McKeon is printed with the permission of Triumph Books. For more information and to order a copy, please visit
www.triumphbooks.com/WallsSharks
.