Apparently, Mike Penner saw no real NHL logo while on an NHL game assignment Jan. 27, 1996.
It was the day participating teams, including both Los Angeles-area franchises debuted their “third jerseys.” The Kings and Mighty Ducks, like many others, had an alternate emblem to go with their new color scheme.
But Penner, a columnist for the Los Angeles Times, wittily played on the experimental crests. He inferred that the host L.A. team was now the “Purplebeards.” The visitors from Anaheim were the “Screaming Teal Wild Wings.”
While other third threads gained legs, neither one at the game Penner attended did. The same went for the logos.
That 1995-96 season was arguably the nadir for NHL logo debuts. Two time-honored franchises on the opposite coast introduced their own poorly received renderings that winter. One moved a first-year shoulder patch to the forefront on its own third jersey. The other broke a beloved piece of tradition by taking on a full-time makeover.
Full-time, but still short-lived. Neither of those logos would see this decade either. But the teams that tried them can take solace in subsequent busts that eclipsed their egregiousness.
While this practice “peaked” in the ’90s, this vault of artistic wide shots covers four decades. Modern NHL teams’ greatest failed attempts at signaling a new era are as follows. All can be found in Chris Creamer’s comprehensive archives on sportslogos.net.
10. Vancouver Canucks primary, 1978-86
This concept could have worked better if only one color at a time was the clear dominant. At least then it could have emulated the tradition of Boston’s spoked-B or Montreal’s CH crest. Or, if nothing else, Vancouver’s flying V could have matched the class of Philadelphia’s flying P.
Instead, the multi-outlined V the Canucks sported for much of the ’80s was paradoxically convoluted. Two layers of black enveloped a red letter to trim their gold home threads. Gold swamped the red that swamped the black atop their road jersey.
If you set that pattern in motion, it would resemble a corny, creepy public-television bumper from the era. The subsequent skate logo was an improvement by comparison, but an improvement nonetheless.
9. New York Islanders primary, 1995-97
Some sports team names are not meant to be depicted in a literal image. New York alone has seen the Giants, Knicks, Mets, Rangers and Yankees do fine under this implicit philosophy. Ditto the Dodgers and Giants baseball team that have long since gone west.
The same has held true for the Islanders, with this one controversial exception. At its 23-year mark, an already tradition-laden franchise ditched its pride magnet of a Long Island logo. In its stead, the club introduced what countless detractors likened to a stick-wielding Gorton’s fisherman.
One could argue that the concomitant addition of teal and gray to the once-simple blue-and-orange color scheme exacerbated the eyesore. But the Isles scrapped their image of an islander and reverted to the island emblem first. The new uniform pattern stuck around for the 1997-98 campaign.
8. Phoenix Coyotes alternate, 1998-03
What was a salamander doing on a Coyotes jersey? It feels silly to ask that, but we’re asking because this really happened.
The combined brevity and isolation of this headscratcher helps to minimize its legacy. It only appeared on the shoulders of the team’s short-lived, overdone green third jerseys.
Even so, the Phoenix/Arizona franchise has used a satisfying variety of alternate emblems before and since. The moon on the primary home and road jerseys had nice, subtle Coyote connotations. Successors have been more direct about the animal.
All of which makes you scratch your scalp open to remember that they once let a lizard into the club.
7. Columbus Blue Jackets, 2000-04
Sure, if they are anything like their real-life yellow inspirations, blue jackets can sting. But what was a franchise that launched after the ’90s died doing with one of the decade’s downsides?
Given the story behind their nickname, the Blue Jackets could have set out to be the new century’s Red Sox and White Sox. That is, a long-lasting franchise whose tradition makes you overlook the fact that it’s named after an article of clothing. And then the costumed Stinger mascot could have been an innocuous sideshow like Boston baseball’s Wally.
But as cute as the pun was, it was too cute to belong anywhere on a uniform. Nonetheless, at least until the 2004-05 lockout, the club made the rookie mistake of putting the insect on its shoulders.
6. Calgary Flames alternate, 1998-07
Several commenters on sportslogos.net aptly note that the horse acknowledges Calgary’s association with the Stampede. Others have added that this worked fine as a shoulder logo.
Those are both fair points. With that said, there had to be a better way of creating a local touch. Despite the team’s nickname, the fire this horse snorts is not that obligatory. If anything, it makes the animal look like a pathetic dragon impersonator.
The boom in black uniforms brought this crest to the chest of the Flames’ thirds. If Calgary had waited a while, it could have used something more along the lines of its then-Saint John AHL affiliate.
5. Los Angeles Kings alternate, 1995-96
Similar to the Islanders, the Kings were fine with mere crown logos and no depictions of the nickname. But in their 29th season, they all but set the bar for experimentation at skate-blade level.
The monarch’s big purple beard makes him more unduly cartoonish than the Islanders’ Gorton’s fisherman/Simpsons Captain McCallister. And of course, with the Burger King comparison, L.A.’s deriders had their own corporate measuring pole here.
There are doubtlessly more dignified ways for teams named the Kings, Monarchs or Royals to illustrate a crown-bearing human. But L.A.’s NHL franchise plus minor-league Manchester and Reading teams have long since wisely stuck with lions.
4. Dallas Stars alternate, 2003-06
When the Minnesota North Stars transferred to Texas in 1993, they had little trouble keeping with a local sports motif. The star was already synonymous with football’s Cowboys and baseball’s Rangers. As such, the shortened nickname and the self-explanatory symbol worked well for the Dallas NHL franchise.
But to start their second decade, the Dallas Stars epitomized the notion of trying too hard. With their new third jersey, they presented a constellation that looked to be an imitation of the Texas Longhorns.
There was simply no call to jump on that regional bandwagon. Moreover, many fans likened the result to a not-so-PG-rated anatomical feature.
3. Anaheim Mighty Ducks alternate, 1995-96
The duck mask and cross sticks, though far from universally beloved, was crisp enough. But taking a full-bodied cartoon canard and letting him crash out of the ice was a giveaway to the Disney detractors.
Commenter Jbag313 said it best on sportslogos.net. Of the jersey this logo appeared on, they opined, “These look like a pair of pajamas you could buy at Goodwill.” Indeed, this was best suited for children’s outerwear, and nothing else.
Still, Wild Wing showed some aggression in this portrait. The next two animation abominations lacked that mild redeemer.
2. Boston Bruins alternate, 1995-07
At least Boston’s previous shoulder patch had teeth. And like Phoenix’s lizard and Columbus’ bug, at least it stayed on the shoulder. This bear offered what appeared to be an impish smile. Perhaps it was trying to justify owner Jeremy Jacobs’ notorious penuriousness, but knew it had a losing argument at hand.
This logo’s legacy plunged deeper into the negatives by relieving the spoked-B on the front of the third thread. It somehow kept that role from the FleetCenter’s (now TD Garden) inaugural 1995-96 season through 2005-06.
After one additional year on the shoulders, the disempowered bear mercifully went the way of the Zamboni snow. With the advent of RBK Edge jerseys, the Bruins brought on a prowling, scowling ursine.
1. Buffalo Sabres primary, 2006-10
The Buffaslug. Was that supposed to be like the cockamouse from How I Met Your Mother?
Like the Islanders, the Sabres darkened their classic colors and added grey trim when they introduced this logo. But whatever backdrop you gave it, the legless, red-eyed bison drained the dignity of a then-36-year-old franchise.
Sabres fans and nonpartisan uniform traditionalists surely wanted this team to revert from its red-and-black pattern to blue and gold. But not like this.
Curiously, Buffalo also started using its Auditorium-era look, original logo and all, as a blue third jersey in 2006-07. A year later, it broke out its old home whites for the inaugural Winter Classic.
But it somehow took until 2010-11 for the beloved Buffalo Sabres’ Pictionary shield to overrun the Buffaslug altogether. A sincerely stampeding bison between two crossed swords was just fine.
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