Without Messmer, Stadium Is Cold and Empty Place

They didn't try to outshout the anthem Sunday. Instead, 18,000hockey maniacs were unusually subdued, realizing the tenderimportance of letting Wayne Messmer's voice boom through the Stadium.Usually, noise is the best tribute to the man; on this day, it wasrestraint at the start, followed by a loud burst for tradition'ssake.

For one afternoon in April, Memorex sufficed. Fans hung theirhomemade signs - "HURRY BACK, WAYNE" . . . "GET WELL, WAYNE" . . ."IT'S JUST NOT THE SAME WITHOUT WAYNE" - and dabbed their eyes when,as always, he stretched the final, resounding "brave" over twosyllables. But from here on, mere recordings of Messmer's powerfulbaritone just aren't going to work.

Not now. Not with the old barn closing down.

Tapes will just make us angry. They will remind us how wretchedthe world can be, how unfair it has been to a gentleman who never didanything wrong but give his hometown a lot of goosebumps. Heapparently is going to recover from a bullet wound in the neck, thankheavens. "He wiggled his toes, and then he squeezed my hand," said ex-Blackhawk Grant Mulvey, Messmer'sclose friend and business partner. "Wayne's going to make it."

Still, the story is horribly tragic. It's possible WayneMessmer, having been shot preciously close to his vocal cords in whatpolice say was a failed robbery attempt, never will sing again.Worse yet, it's unlikely he'll be able to close down the Stadium withhis nightly renditions, which is like closing down the neighborhoodbar without Sinatra. They should add it to the list of criminalcharges. Keeping Messmer from the building in its final days is thebiggest sin of all.

Such trauma isn't what the barn had in mind for its swan song.First Bill Wirtz goes pyrotechnic on us and says he wants to blow upthe place, explode decades of memories with tender loving dynamite.Now the singer who gave the Stadium its energy in old age rests atCook County Hospital, recovering from 10 hours of surgery that savedhis life. What's next, the Barton organ falling from the loft? Thefoghorn turning into a kazoo? Rarely does anyone regard an anthemsinger with gushy fondness. But Messmer has been that special to us,an institution in a sports town that doesn't award the distinctionliberally.

You can go to stadiums and arenas around America, the worldover, and never see a scene like the Messmer anthem. News accounts are listing him for his work with the Cubs and his executiveposition with the new International Hockey League franchise, alongwith past duties for the White Sox and Sting. But hockey nights atthe Stadium always will be his niche, the act that made him famous.I tell people in other towns I'm from Chicago, and they sometimessay, "I'll never forget that singer who gave everyone the chillsduring the Persian Gulf war." The moment, at the 1991 NHL All-StarGame, not only made him a treasure but showed how sports can bringhope to a troubled world and produce the most tingling patrioticsalutes.

As much as anyone, including a dreammaker named Jordan, Messmergave the Stadium a renaissance of sorts in the '80s. Before then, itwas known as an aging sports temple, filled but not always dramaticfor Hawks games, rarely filled and often lifeless for Bulls games.Messmer helped make the building magical, with the aid of someleather-lunged fans on a May evening in 1985. At least a million ofyou were there, I know. Down two games to none to Wayne Gretzky andEdmonton, the crowd tried to arouse the Hawks in the conference finalby shouting over "The Star-Spangled Banner." That took some doingbecause the voice of Messmer, before then known as da dude who singsda anthem, was almighty. But they managed to drown him out, whichled to a Hawks victory. They lost the series, but a chilling Chicagotradition was born.

The Hawks won another game Sunday, surviving the Gretzky-lessLos Angeles Kings for a 2-1 victory. But the effort was surprisinglyuninspired, given the obvious drama.

If any luck can be found in an awful story, it's that thebullet didn't strike Messmer's vocal cords. Remarkably, it missed bymillimeters. At this time, doctors won't offer a prognosis aboutwhether he'll sing again. They are happy he's alive, shot allegedlyby a 15-year-old near Hawkeye's Bar & Grill, a postgame haunt onTaylor Street.

The fantasy, of course, is to see the Hawks shock their wayinto the Stanley Cup finals. Then, from the Zamboni gate, WayneMessmer walks onto the ice and belts out the anthem before Game 1.

No man more deserves a miracle.