by J. Bueker

     "Yechhhh."

     With that exquisitely terse dismissal, Producer Mel Cooley regularly greeted his arch nemesis, comedy writer Buddy Sorrell, on Carl Reiner's 1960s masterpiece of comedy television, "The Dick Van Dyke Show." This classic interjection of extreme disgust may in no way, shape or form be applied to the show itself, however.  Premiering in September of 1961, this remarkable program absolutely redefined the notion of the television sitcom, which by even that early date had long since become a staple of the American entertainment scene. The massive influence of this show reverberates throughout the TV landscape to this very day.

    Preceded in the '50s by such high quality trail blazers as "I Love Lucy" and "The Honeymooners," the "Van Dyke Show" was specifically conceived and designed by creator Reiner to chart an entirely new direction and approach for the sitcom format. Joining Van Dyke (Rob Petrie) in the marvelous cast were Mary Tyler Moore (Laura Petrie), Morey Amsterdam (Sorrell), Rose Marie (Sally Rogers), Richard Deacon (Cooley), and on occasion, Reiner himself as egomaniacal variety show host Alan Brady. Drawing on funny domestic situations from his own life, as well as his experiences as a staff writer and performer on Sid Caesar's "Your Show of Shows," Reiner crafted a consistently funny and highly innovative program week in and week out. The show was unique in that it was the first TV sitcom to show the father at home and at work in equal measures.
    However, it is the highly imaginative quality of the writing and the exceptional performances that distinguish this show above all other TV sitcoms. Among the 156 episodes filmed were enduring classics such as "It May Look Like a Walnut," wherein Rob faces an invasion of walnut hurling aliens led by Danny Thomas (it was all just a nightmare of course); "I'd Rather Be Bald Than Have No Head at All," in which Rob uses a salad dressing recipe to save his hair (and has another atrocious dream); and "Ghost of a Chantz," a tale of  Rob, Laura, Buddy and Sally spending a hilarious night of terror in a haunted cabin at a mountain resort ('Smile, you're on sneaky camera!'). Many of us have seen these episodes innumerable times, and yet one still marvels at the quality of the material and the good natured humor contained in each show. Even the adversarial relationships, as between sarcastic Buddy and hapless Mel, or hapless Mel and merciless Alan, are sweet, unassuming and reliably funny. The show always carried an aura of freshness and creativity, no small feat for any program that revolves around relatively few characters for a full five years.
    For many of us growing up in the '60s, Rob and Laura Petrie became a paradigm for the ideal husband and wife, father and mother, neighbors and friends. They were just so damn nice, attractive, funny, loving and in an early '60s sort of way, hip and cool. Their lone offspring Richie (Larry Matthews) seemed like a typical American kid, albeit not a terribly bright one. Richie had his moments too, though, as in the episode where he learns to his extreme chagrin that his given middle name happens to be Rosebud.
    "The Dick Van Dyke Show" ran until September 1966, at which time it apparently succumbed to Van Dyke's cinematic aspirations. Though an unfortunate development at the time, the somewhat premature demise of the show ensured that it would never go into the inevitable decline that all long running TV shows eventually experience. There's a lot to be said for this circumstance.
    With the incredible number of TV viewing options that we are spoiled with in this day and age, it is difficult to remember exactly what it was like watching the tube in the early '60s, when a fortunate viewer would have access to a grand total of 5 or 6 channels from which to choose. Shows were crafted to effect wide range attention, and yet few completely succeeded.

    Reiner's masterpiece is a prominent exception. From the familiar opening sequence when Rob arrives home and trips over the ottoman to the closing credits, "The Dick Van Dyke Show" still provides excellent entertainment value forty long years later. It always will.

    Many years ago, long before the Winnipeg Jets alit in America West Arena and started calling themselves "Coyotes," there played a team in this fair city that personified the heart and courage of a true hockey champion. That team was the Phoenix Roadrunners.
    The Roadrunners arrived in Phoenix in 1967, a Western Hockey League franchise that had operated as the Victoria Maple Leafs the year before, winning the prestigious Patrick Cup in 1966. The team was immediately and warmly embraced by the sports starved fans in the Phoenix area, and they began playing in the 12,800 seat Veterans Memorial Coliseum in the fall of '67, a full year before the inception of the Valley's first true major league sports team, the Phoenix Suns. The 'runners soon developed a solid and loyal following, despite a disturbing lack of playoff success that lasted well into the 70s, when Phoenix finally won the coveted Cup in 1973 and 1974. The Madhouse on McDowell was rarely filled completely, and yet the noise generated by Roadrunner fans was consistently quite formidable. The blast of air horns and general racket that would greet the Roadrunners whenever they emerged from their dressing room to take the ice was deafening.
    The WHL at that time had a very respectable group of teams competing, including the Portland Buckaroos, Seattle Totems, Denver Spurs and Phoenix's arch rivals, the San Diego Gulls. Though players were subject to recall to the big leagues at any time, the team rosters in the WHL were relatively stable. The Roadrunners boasted such fine talent as team captain Alex "Sandy" Hucul, one of the league's most rugged and most consistent defensemen. He played with Calgary, Saskatoon, Vancouver, Spokane, Victoria, and Denver before coming to Phoenix to complete his remarkable career from 1967-72. Hucul was the league's outstanding defenseman twice and had six all-star team berths, three on the first team. Hucul finished his career having played the second most league games in the history of the WHL. To this day, Sandy Hucul's number 4 still hangs from the rafters of Veterans Memorial Coliseum. Other prominent Roadrunners over the years were goal tender Rich Charon, defensemen Chris Evans, forward Bob Barlow and in later years, star winger Robbie Ftorek.  The original president and general manager of the Phoenix Roadrunners was one Bob Whitlow, and Alf Pike the first coach of the team.
    In 1973, the fledgling World Hockey Association awarded a franchise to Phoenix, the WHL disbanded, and the Roadrunners suddenly found themselves playing major league hockey. Many players from the 73-74 WHL championship team joined the WHA squad, along with a number of WHA and NHL veterans, and Hucul took the reins as coach.
    The play in the WHA was rough, tough and actually quite exciting at times. During the 75-76 season, the Roadrunners played well enough to place second in the Western Division, but fell to San Diego in five games in the first round of the playoffs. This turned out to be the pinnacle of success for the WHA version of the Phoenix Roadrunners. Financial problems developed to the tune of an annual loss of two million dollars, and the team folded after playing their last game on April 6, 1977, defeating Indianapolis at the Coliseum.
    The Phoenix Roadrunners were reborn several more times, first in the Central Hockey League, later in the Pacific Hockey League and then finally in the International Hockey League. Although their hard core fan base never deserted the team, it was also never able to make the Roadrunners a financially viable franchise, either. When the Winnipeg NHL team made their move to the Valley in 1996, there was some considerable support for renaming the team "Roadrunners." It only seemed right. However, this hope was soon squelched by the team, who held a team naming contest which resulted in the franchise adopting the name "Coyotes."
    The Roadrunners were succeeded by a new minor league hockey franchise, the Mustangs of the PHL, from 1997 until last spring. The Phoenix Mustangs won the league championship in 2000, were the worst team in the league last season, and then suddenly folded for financial reasons. In a sense, the Mustang's brief sojourn in Phoenix seems symbolic of the entire history of the Roadrunners compressed into four brief seasons. Interestingly, the Coliseum void left behind by the demise of the Mustangs will be filled starting this week by Phoenix's new American Basketball Association team, the Eclipse. Professional hockey may never again appear in the Coliseum, and yet professional basketball has made a surprise return to the Madhouse after an absence of nearly 10 years. This confirms that anything is possible in the bizarre world of professional sports, so perhaps we have not yet seen the last of the Phoenix Roadrunners after all. You never know.
    Sandy Hucul call home. We miss you, number 4.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________JDA