Now, halls of fame don’t just get plunked down here or there at random. The Pro Football Hall of Fame is in Canton, Ohio, because that’s where the NFL was founded. Every Little Leaguer dreams of making it to Cooperstown, the place in New York where, legend has it, the first game of baseball was played. The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is in Cleveland, Ohio, home of Alan Freed, the disc jockey who first called rock ’n’ roll “rock and roll.” The Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame is in Springfield, Mass., the town where Dr. James Naismith nailed a peach basket to the wall at either end of a local gym, tossed in a soccer ball and, in 1891, a new sport was born.
It only follows that the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame was built in Eveleth. Eveleth and the other little towns on the Range have cranked out more great hockey players for U.S. college, Olympic and pro teams than anywhere else in the country. When Iron Range winters gave locals a lot of ice time but not a whole lot to do, hockey was a natural. Like having the halls in Canton, Cooperstown, Cleveland and Springfield, having hockey’s Hall in Eveleth, on the Range, was also a natural.
Unfortunately for Eveleth, natural is far from the NHL’s dominant characteristic. For a sport played on a sheet of ice, there’s nothing natural about hosting teams in places like Florida, Texas, Vegas and L.A. — places where the coldest day wouldn’t freeze a Popsicle — or playing championship games in June. I can’t help but think that lack of respect for what is and ought to be contributes to the fact that the board of directors of the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame Museum are giving serious consideration to moving the museum from America’s hockey heartland to downtown St. Paul simply because — tradition be damned — there’d be more folks passing through the gift shop.
Once again, the powers-that-be are poised to take away something important and meaningful to folks living out in small-town America. For the folks in the metro, adding the Hall of Fame to the lobby of the Xcel Energy Center would be just one more thing to tie up traffic, nothing more than a merchandising ploy for pro sports — which characteristically exhibit a community loyalty worthy of Benedict Arnold.
On the other hand, for the folks living up on the Range, the hall is a place of real local significance — not to mention economic importance.
How many hockey fans does it take to keep the Whistling Bird whistling?