Ashtray? Stanley Cup Is That - And More

BUFFALO - Neither history nor a tax record reveals whether Frederick Arthur received a nice writeoff for his generous donation to hockey in 1892.

But the reigning Lord Stanley of Preston sure created an awful lot of fuss down the road for such innocent intentions.

All Arthur hoped to do when he plunked down 10 guineas ($48.67) for a silver bowl crafted in Sheffield, England, was reward the amateur hockey champion of Canada and, well, yeah, sure, perhaps garner some political favor as well.

Arthur was completing his time as Great Britain's governor general of Canada and preparing to return to England to become the Earl of Derby. Little did he know that he would leave behind a trophy that would grow in size and seriously in stature. History can lack such ambition at its outset.

Several collars have been added below Lord Stanley's original bowl, which was replaced by a copy in the 1960s. It now weighs close to 35 pounds and stands just under 3 feet. And it has become the symbol of professional hockey supremacy, talked about breathlessly by those who grow up playing the sport.

The thrill of winning the Stanley Cup cannot be quantified to measure out greater than the thrill of, say, winning the Super Bowl. But an argument can be made that it is the most recognizable trophy in sports.

For the sake of those fans who take a wastebasket, top it with a salad bowl, wrap the creation in aluminum foil and then walk around the stadium wearing it on their heads, let's hope that argument is true.

But, seriously, do fans go to such lengths for, say, the World Series trophy? What is the World Series trophy called anyway?

Who can picture the shape of golf's Ryder Cup? Or tennis' Davis Cup?

The point is this: There is a respect for and a fascination with the Stanley Cup that is just not found with other trophies in sports. Much of that is because of its uniqueness. There is only one Stanley Cup, with the 1,914 names of the members of all the championship teams inscribed on it.

Furthermore, players on those teams get to show off the Cup each summer. It is the only trophy that is passed along from player to player, thus making trips to places as disparate as the White House, the Kremlin and "The Late Show with David Letterman."

Then, there is the trophy's history. It is the oldest trophy competed for by professional athletes. It was first won by the Montreal Amateur Athletic Association of Canada in 1893.

Teams from Montreal, Winnipeg, Ottawa, Vancouver and Toronto competed for the Cup under a challenge format until 1917, when the National Hockey League was formed.

For the next nine seasons, the NHL champion competed against the Western or Pacific League champion for the Cup.

The NHL dominated that arrangement, and from 1927 on, the competition has been strictly an NHL event.

There are countless stories that add to the lore of the Cup, some of them no doubt apocryphal.

-- Near the turn of the century, nobody could find the trophy for a few years until an Ottawa player searched his closet and found it stashed there.

-- Another Ottawa player once drunkenly kicked the Cup into the Rideau Canal and left it there. But the frozen canal kept the Cup afloat and players found it safe the next day.

-- King Clancy, an Ottawa businessman, used the Cup as an ashtray in his living room.

-- Colorado defenseman Sylvain Lefebvre had one of his children baptized out of the Cup.

There is nothing exaggerated about the thrill of winning the trophy, as witnessed by countless celebratory images of hockey players skating around the rink in ecstasy, holding the Cup aloft. Such images, as well as the above stories, merely serve to heighten the mystique surrounding the trophy for current players.

Eighteen years ago, Dallas winger Pat Verbeek had an opportunity to reach out and touch the Cup, or at least take a picture of it.

He and his father visited the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, where the trophy resides for much of the year.

"I said no," Verbeek said. "I didn't want to get a picture with it until I had a chance to win it."

Stars defenseman Derian Hatcher took the same approach when childhood friend Shawn Chambers returned to the Detroit area after winning the Cup with New Jersey in 1995.

Chambers, now also with Dallas, recalls that Hatcher wouldn't even touch it.

"It's really an unwritten rule," Verbeek said.

But here's another funny thing about the Cup. As revered as it is, as respected as it is, as recognizable as it is, few know how the heck it got its name.

Witness Buffalo winger Dixon Ward:

"He was some dude who bought the trophy for $49. I don't know what his story in life was. No one does, but everybody plays for it. Maybe that adds to the mystique of it."

Or Dallas center Guy Carbonneau:

"I am embarrassed to say I don't know."

Embarrassed? That's respect. Can anyone imagine, say, Allen Iverson uttering the same for not knowing the history behind the NBA Championship trophy, which is named for former commissioner Larry O'Brien.

By the way, Lord Stanley returned to his native England during the 1893 season and never presided over the presentation of his trophy. With no sentimental payback for his original purchase, let's hope he kept his receipt for tax purposes.