Pikka rinna6/15/2023 So I come down to the hotel lobby to meet Nick, and I’m wearing a pink shirt, jeans with holes all over and ridiculous shoes. And, you have to understand that, at the time in 2005, the style in Finland was like tight, ripped jeans, white shoes, skin-tight T-shirts with logos and bright colors. So I’m in a hotel in Toronto, and he calls and says that he and his wife, Karen, want to take me for dinner. An absolute gentleman and he helped me a lot those first few months. Nick was like the nicest guy in the world. So the team flew to Toronto for a few days for some paperwork stuff, I think, and there I met with one of Nashville’s scouts, Nick Beverley. In the summer of ’05, when I signed my deal and went to report to Milwaukee for my first AHL season, I had to wait for my visa to be approved. But what nobody really prepared me for was that my Finnish sense of style was not … let’s say, universal. “Pekka … do you have something else to wear?”Įveryone at Kärpät did a great job of preparing me for hockey in North America, yes, 100%. It’s hard to prepare a young man for what hockey might be like on the other side of the world, but those guys, and everyone at Kärpät made me into something I never really thought was possible: An NHL-caliber goalie. They helped me learn what it really means to be a pro, and Ari is still a great friend of mine to this day. There were two coaches in Oulu who played a huge part in my development: Erno Moilanen and Ari Hilli. Even when I went to Kärpät, and we practiced two times a day and I wanted to quit, I made sure to remind myself that I love this game. And I think, in any story about my past, Laser Hockey matters because that’s where I found my joy and my love for the game. They were just a group of guys who played baseball in the summers and hockey in the winters. Before I moved to Oulu to play for Kärpät when I was 17, I played on a team called Laser Hockey. Nobody ever taught me a more “traditional” style. It’s a … wild style of goaltending.įor a long time, that’s the goalie I was. If you’ve played road hockey you know what those goalies are like: lunging at everything, throwing their bodies all over the place without the ability to slide post-to-post in a smooth way. When I was growing up, I played hockey like I was still on the street with my friends. I read a scouting report the other day from before the 2004 draft that described me like that. Taylor Baucom/The Players' Tribune “ Big goalie, moves like a cat, gets beat blocker-side” So Nashville, if you’ll ride with me one more time, I want to share some stories, say some thanks, and say goodbye. It’s the right time.īut I can’t leave without at least trying to put into words what these past 17 years in the Predators organization have meant to me. And when I really thought about what it would mean to not come back to the rink at the end of the summer, it just felt like the right choice, and the right time. My priorities had changed, and my mind knew that, even if my body didn’t. Every time I looked at my son, at Erika - I just felt like a different person, almost, if that makes sense. My body still feels like it could compete at the highest level … but my decision was about a lot more than that. I spent the summer in Nashville with my fiancée, Erika, and our six-month-old son, Paulus. It was the start of an incredible, life-changing journey that has taken me to more places than I could have ever imagined, and given me more than I could ever hope to give back. And I’d let myself dream that maybe, maybe, one day I’d play for the Stanley Cup like John. I’d mimic John’s saves in the driveway with my friends, I’d count down the hours until Sunday morning when the 30-minute NHL highlight show came on. ![]() man, it was just about the coolest thing in the world.Įven from 5,000 miles away, every time I got a letter back, I’d feel like I was a small part of that Panthers’ Cup run. So to me, a tall, skinny street hockey goalie from Kempele, Finland. ![]() And he’d always return them with his autograph. I’d send him letters and cards and pictures and all sorts of stuff. I was pretty much obsessed with him when I was 13 years old. It was addressed to my favorite goalie in the world: John Vanbiesbrouck. Somewhere in Sunrise, Florida, way back in 1996, there was a mailman.Īnd in his sack of mail, along with hundreds and hundreds of envelopes, there was a letter - from me.
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