
In his latest for The Hockey News, Stan Fischler shares how his nickname came to be and how the New York Islanders put the everlasting touches on it.
What's a "Hockey Maven?"
How'd you get that nickname -- or just "Maven" or even "Mave?"
I've endlessly been asked those questions over the years and take great pleasure in explaining -- since it's a fun story.
And since I wrote a piece Thursday in this space about New York Islanders nicknames, my editor decided that this was as good a time as any to explain how I got nicknamed The Maven and, even later, just plain Mave.
READ MORE: Great New York Islanders Nicknames
For starters, I should note here and now that the term maven -- technically translated from Yiddish -- means "one who understands."
But the more practical definition goes far beyond that or, to put it simply, it can be translated to "an expert in the field" -- any field -- and even a hockey rink.
And since you're still wondering how I earned the handle "The Hockey Maven" -- to tell you the truth -- it's all because of an edible item called herring.
So, let's sink our teeth into it.
Back in the 1950s, when I was going to Brooklyn College, there was a popular delicatessen item on the shelves that came in a jar and was called "Vita Brand Herring."
It was a big seller in those days and even boasted a radio commercial starring a comedian named Al Kelly. For the sake of the commercial, Kelly was nicknamed "The Herring Maven" and went on for about twenty seconds telling us why we should buy this delicious appetizer.
Kelly's hilarious variations on "The Herring Maven" commercial became embedded in my head, awaiting some future day when I -- now a columnist for Hockey Illustrated magazine -- could restore it to life again; only now in the 1960s.
One day -- out of the blue -- Hockey Illustrated's editor Al Goldfarb put down his coffee cup for a moment and said: "Stan; we gotta put a title on your column; something more than just your byline."
While Goldfarb was sipping his Java, a vision of Al Kelly, "The Herring Maven,' entered my mind. And before Goldfard could put another spoonful of sugar into his mug, I shouted: "How about 'The Hockey Maven.'"
Al, the hockey editor, liked it as much as I loved Al Kelly as The Herring Maven, and from that moment on, my magazine byline read, "By Stan Fischler, The Hockey Maven."
It had a catchy touch, and soon others in my hockey fraternity picked up on it.
These included my producers at SportsChannel, when I began doing the Islanders games on tv in the late 1970s.
My sobriquet, "The Hockey Maven," stayed that way until the 1995-96 season or thereabouts when I was doing an Islanders-Whalers telecast from Hartford.
Normally, I'd take an afternoon nap at my hotel room the day of a game, but this day was different.
I couldn't fall asleep and instead decided to walk across the street to the arena and just hang out. Normally, there'd be no team members around at three in the afternoon, so I wasn't surprised when I found the dressing room empty.
As I headed toward the door, I heard some noise from the stick room, so I poked my head in and -- whaddayaknow? -- there was ace center Travis Green honing his hockey stick to sharpness.
He looked up from his work, and out came: "Hey, Mave!"
MAVE?
Gee, I'd never heard that before. I twirled "Mave" around in my cranium for about two seconds, and the result was: "Mave," I like that and I liked the evolution; from The Hockey Maven to plain Maven to Mave.
What's more, it stuck.
Now, whenever I sign an email, letter, or whatever, I'm no longer The Hockey Maven, or Maven, I am Mave forever.
And I love it.
Thank you, Travis Green, and good luck in your new gig as assistant coach with the New Jersey Devils.
Signed,
Mave