From the pages of Center Ice Magazine

A SILENT ROAR?

Question: If a filled arena breaks out into a spontaneous, piercing roar but no one outside the building is willing to hear it, does it make a sound?

Answer: Apparently not.

Welcome to the dilemma that is the Nashville Predators.

It was a truly magical moment the night of April 3 at Nashville’s Sommet Center. The Predators were on the verge of clinching their fourth straight playoff appearance, which they did later that night with their victory and a Vancouver Canucks loss. At the time the Predators were clinging to a precarious 3-2 lead over St. Louis.

Then it happened.

During the final media timeout, over 17,000 fans stood up and started cheering. But this wasn’t just some fleeting moment of appreciation. Their cheering continued…louder and longer. The crowd had broken out into an unprovoked, ear-splitting roar that had rarely, if ever, been heard during the Predators’ 10-year history.

The tell-tale sign of an unforgettable sports moment is when its historical significance is realized in the moment. Sitting among the press corps that night at the Sommet Center, I knew this was something very special. Chills went down my spine as I realized I was experiencing perhaps the seminal moment in franchise history.

It was spontaneous, it was unexplainable, and – most importantly – it was real.

That moment may have signified a fan base finally and fully embracing its hockey team, a franchise nearly snatched from its city before the season had even begun.
Yet as special and memorable the moment was, an entire region outside the building failed to hear it.

This lack of recognition from everyone outside the loyal but smallish Predators fan base was just as deafening and equally measurable.

As the eighth-seeded Predators approached a difficult, yet not impossible, opening-round task of upsetting the top-seeded and President Trophy-winning Detroit Red Wings, the community at-large responded with a whimper, both in television ratings and ticket sales.

To be fair, trying to find the Predators on TV – through the muddled mess of networks and times - was the equivalent of the cliché needle in a haystack. Additionally, the thought of buying tickets for a series in which the good guys were down 0-2 coming back to Nashville did not necessarily seem appealing. Game 3 did not sell immediately. In fact, it did not sell out until the morning of the showdown.

But here was the Predator faithful again during Game 3, letting loose a growl reminiscent of the regular season finale, practically willing the Predators to an unlikely 5-3 win.

Despite the fan and player heroics, one glaring problem remains: the Predators need more people shouting inside – and outside – the building, both with their voices and their wallets.
Otherwise the next generation of Predators fans will not experience the magical moments we did.

That’s because there won’t be a next generation of fans.