SALT LAKE CITY — The first time the Chicago Blackhawks met new management when Rocky Wirtz took ownership in 2007, it felt like they were being called into the manager’s office. They were restless, nervous and preparing for the worst.

The news was always bad for the Blackhawks back then. Bill Wirtz’s ownership had left the team in a sorry state both on and off the ice. The Blackhawks were an embarrassment, perhaps the worst franchise in all of North American professional sports.

So when the new bosses asked the players what they needed to succeed, it felt like some kind of trick, a trap, a cruel joke by management. The players feigned satisfaction, mostly out of self-preservation. You spend years under a cheap owner, you learn to keep your wants and needs to yourself. But eventually it became clear that it wasn’t a joke, and it all came out. After the games they needed food. They needed better travel accommodations. They needed better training facilities and recovery equipment. They were to be treated like professional athletes in a multi-billion dollar league. They weren’t supposed to be a laughing matter. They didn’t have to fight the rest of the NHL with one hand tied behind their back.

They needed an owner who cared. Who spent. WHO tried.

They got it all. Everything they asked for. But with that came a revelation.

“Suddenly we think alike as players,” Adam Burish once told me. “Holy s-. We have to play well now.”

Which brings us to the Utah Hockey Club.

GO DEEPER

A look inside the hectic five-month struggle of the Utah Hockey Club

Of course, it’s wildly unfair to expect the league’s newest franchise to usher itself into a golden era of success, winning three Stanley Cups in the next eight years like those Blackhawks did. But the former Arizona Coyotes now feel the same way as the Blackhawks. They had that same meeting with Ryan Smith on his first day as owner in April, after a round of introductory golf. And everything they asked for, they got.

Now? They feel freer. Lighter. After decades of mismanagement, after a parade of cartoonishly inept owners, after embarrassing episode after embarrassing episode, after years of the C-suite refusing to behave – to care, to spend money, attempt – just like a real NHL team, they are, well, a real NHL team.

They may not have a name yet. But for the first time in a while, they have a fighting chance.

“That’s definitely a feeling we have for sure,” new Utah captain Clayton Keller said hours before the franchise’s first game Tuesday night against the Blackhawks. “There are no distractions. You can say whatever you want, but friends, family, people always (asked) what’s going on and you don’t really know. It’s nice to be free and focus on our work and what we are here to do: win.”

Tuesday’s 5-2 opening night victory heralded a new era for a beleaguered group, an injection of excitement and hope. Utah Hockey Club jerseys aren’t even available yet, but some fans have made their own. The blue-on-blue color scheme was everywhere as fans stormed the plaza outside the arena for a pregame concert. The fans embraced every aspect of being an NHL fan: booing the referees, booing the Blackhawks, and even booing NHL commissioner Gary Bettman — the man who actually handed the Coyotes to Smith — when he played in a pregame montage appeared.

Emphatic chants of “Let’s go, YOU-tah!” echoed through the small, almost claustrophobic arena. They sang “Spicy Tuna!” in honor of Liam O’Brien. They went ballistic for the first fight between Sean Durzi and Connor Murphy. They drank countless beers on the scoreboard. And when Dylan Guenther, one of Utah’s future (and perhaps current) superstars, cleanly beat Petr Mrázek for the first goal in Utah history, it rocked the building.

The Delta Center was rocked when Dylan Guenther scored the franchise’s first goal. (Bruce Bennett/Getty Images)

Of course there were jitters and glitches the first night. The scoreboard used the Blackhawks’ 2021-2022 roster, so Jujhar Khaira, Dominik Kubalik, Dylan Strome and Mike Hardman, among others, were repeatedly listed as being on the ice. And yes, about 5,000 of the fans in attendance couldn’t see one of the goals, something that will be addressed but could take about three years to resolve. Small downsides actually. Nothing could ruin this party.

It was a dazzling debut for a dazzling fan base and a dazzling group of hockey players who get a taste of how the other half – well, the other 31/32nd – have lived. It was a chaotic day, full of pomp and circumstance and runaway emotions. Not exactly the kind of circus routine-oriented hockey players typically crave. But for those coming from Arizona, who have endured so much bad chaos over the years, it was extremely invigorating to embrace some good chaos.

“This is exciting,” Durzi said. “It’s the kind of drama you want.”

In time, normalcy will descend on Salt Lake City, and the Utah Anythings will be just another team in the NHL. But for now, the dominant emotion in the hockey world is happiness for the ex-Coyotes. People are happy that the mess is behind them, happy that they have an ownership group that looks both competent and competitive. Even jilted Coyotes fans seem happy for the players, even if they harbor understandable grudges against the team and the league.

Connor Murphy gets it. The Blackhawks defenseman was a first-round draft pick of the old Phoenix Coyotes and spent his first four NHL seasons in the desert. At the time, the Coyotes didn’t even have an owner; they were supervised by the NHL. Murphy said that while you can put any uncertainty aside when you step on the ice, the players’ lives were profoundly affected by the ownership issues. The Coyotes didn’t know whether to buy houses or sign long-term deals. It was an ongoing, nagging problem. Sometimes it was in the back of their minds, sometimes in the front.

But it was always there.

“Especially for the leadership group, like Shane Doan,” Murphy said. “A lot of his time was spent doing things like that. It’s tiring having to go to political meetings and things like that. When you grow up hoping to be a hockey player, these are things you don’t expect to have to do. For guys like him, who carry a lot of weight for a franchise, it’s certainly a distraction.

Murphy said he immediately noticed the difference in ownership when he was traded to Chicago – the way players were cared for, the way players lived, the way players traveled, the way players knew the team would still be there tomorrow . Ownership is perhaps the most important element to long-term success, more than market size, more than coaching and front office, even more than roster. Without stable owners with deep pockets, the others don’t matter much, or don’t have much of a chance. Like it or not, success in professional sports depends not only on finding a billionaire, but also on right billionaire.

Ryan and Ashley Smith pose with NHL commissioner Gary Bettman before the first NHL game in Utah on Tuesday. (Bruce Bennett/Getty Images)

The Utah Hockey Club now has that. Ryan and Ashley Smith bring not only money, but also experience and competence. They are putting money into Delta Center to make it a hockey arena, not a basketball arena with a hockey team. They’re putting money into a brand new practice facility. And they pour money into the squad, immediately signing players like Mikhail Sergachev and John Marino over the summer.

For years, Arizona has seemingly taken on all the league’s bad contracts — deals with low actual salaries but high caps — to game the system and hit the cap without actually spending more money. The list of “Coyotes legends” who never suited up is long and ridiculous, including Chris Pronger, Pavel Datsyuk, Dave Bolland and Marián Hossa. The cruel twist for their fans was that the Coyotes’ own cheapness allowed them to keep spending and spending and spending on real NHL teams.

Now Utah is in the mix, in the fray. But as Burish noted seventeen years ago in Chicago, that changes the dynamic for this group. Too often for the Coyotes, it felt like success simply took another season. Success in Utah will be measured very differently. Stability brings expectations. Expectations bring pressure. Push to build a new fan base and keep them engaged. The pressure to make hockey work in an American market that has just 400,000 more people than Winnipeg. Pressure to win and win fast because that takes care of everything else.

After years – no, decades – of lowering the bar and still continually managing to stumble over it, the franchise formerly known as the Coyotes has everything going for it, and everything that comes with it. Shame gives way to expectation, rot gives way to pressure. Finally, they’re just another NHL team, facing normal NHL problems.

From the ashes of Phoenix rises Utah, a team brimming with potential, brimming with hope and rich in cash.

Or as Crouse put it: “No more excuses.”

(Top photo: Bruce Bennett/Getty Images)