Shinny Interviews...
An Escaped NJ Devils 2001 Stanley Cup Champions Hat
Published in Julyl 2001 -  Diane Lau

The Editor, who by day is a Marketing Babe for a distributor of machine parts (as she puts it, "It’s much more fun than it sounds"), has one motto for life: It’s All About Marketing. This is why big events like the Stanley Cup Finals are leveraged into huge money-making schemes, sometimes even to the point of folly. For example, heaven forbid retailers should not be ready to start selling Cup Champ merchandise ten hours after the winner is determined. In fact, we checked online about an hour after the Cup was presented, and there was already stuff for sale.

You can conclude only one thing: Obviously bizillions of Stanley Cup hats and tee shirts with the wrong team on them are manufactured every year. And not only are they manufactured, they are actually shipped. How does this work exactly? Well, we read recently that retail stores asking for a supply of this iffy merchandise must sign an agreement that if the other team ends up winning, they promise to destroy the stuff.

Ever alert for controversial interviews with inanimate objects, Shinny immediately saw the opportunity here. Through his hockey grapevine (which in spite of the name doesn’t involve Don Cherry), Shinny put out the word that he would assist any renegade Stanley Cup merchandise in exchange for an exclusive. Thus we are able to bring you this amazing interview with an actual 2001 New Jersey Devils Stanley Cup Champions Hat!

Q: Mr. Hat, obviously we can’t reveal your real name in this interview.

A: Obviously. And of course nobody would have a name as stupid as Mr. Hat!

Q: Guess you don’t watch South Park…

A: Hey, I was only manufactured a few weeks ago, and I’ve hardly had time for TV, what with being on the lam basically ever since.

Q: Tell us the circumstances of your escape.

A: First of all, let me describe what it’s like to be in a shipment of iffy Cup merchandise. You and your comrades face two alternate futures: either being sported for the summer by ecstatic fans of the winning team, or certain destruction. Needless to say, we were a tense bunch.

Q: Where was your destination?

A: Me, I was in the crowd headed for Macy’s. Pretty exciting, you might think. Yeah, we arrived in the Big Apple the day of Game Seven, a supply of us hats and a supply of tee shirts. We discussed in the van the fact that, considering we were being sent to territory that’s largely pro-Rangers, there were a ridiculously large number of us. Not as many as they made of those crazy shirts and hats welcoming back Mark Messier, but then, how lucky was that crew?

Q: Well, I suppose they did all end up in the bottom of people’s closets.

A: Still, a better fate than my compatriots. So, we were in storage for a few hours at Macy’s until the sportswear department manager decided there wouldn’t be time to put us on display in the morning—he preferred to set us out that night and take the risk of having to quickly pull us off the shelf later.

Q: You were actually on display?

A: Covered with sheets, but yes, we were actually out on display at Macy’s in New York City.

Q: What happened then?

A: You just can’t imagine how gruesome the scene was, Shinny. In fact, I’d urge you to advise your younger and more squeamish readers to stop reading now.

Q: Okay.

A: We were all hiding under the sheets, praying for a Devils win with all our might. Meanwhile, one of the custodians came by, and he happened to be listening to the game on his Walkman. I was on one end of the display, and I guess I have pretty good hearing, because I picked up just a little of what he was hearing.

Q: Oh, this is really pathetic, Mr. Hat.

A: It was actually after the game itself…all I heard was a snippet about how Ray Bourque was skating with the Cup. That was how I found out we were all doomed.

Q: Did you tell the others?

A: I did. They reacted in a lot of different ways—some didn’t believe me, they refused to accept it and accused me of being an Avalanche sympathizer. Just loopy! Others really panicked, they did crazy things like try to pick off their own embroidery.

Q: Honestly? That’s horrible!

A: And virtually impossible without opposable thumbs. Or hands at all, for that matter.

Q: And what did you do then?

A: Me, well I’m the pragmatic sort. I knew there would be sportswear department staff showing up early to get rid of us. I told the other hats we had to get out while the getting was good, or who knew what would happen to us!

Q: So at that point you didn’t exactly know your fate?

A: Well, I had a pretty good idea they weren’t going to re-dye us Avalanche blue! So I told the other hats we had to split, but they all started arguing about the logistics of the thing, like what were we going to do, hail a cab? and what would happen to us then, would we try to hide in some costume departments on Broadway? Should we try to make a break for Exit 16W and hope we could hide amongst any Ray Bourque hats hanging out there? Yeah, the sarcasm got pretty heavy, but I ignored it. I said we could figure that out later, but they were all so busy bickering and freaking out and trying to pull out each other embroidery with the edges of each other’s little buckles in back, I said, well screw this, I’m outta here!

Q: You took off on your own?

A: Me and a couple of the tee shirts. We jumped off the racks and hid amongst some Dale Earnhardt merchandise. There was tons of that, so it was easy to hide.

Q: Wow, even in NYC?

A: You’d be amazed the popularity of NASCAR these days.

Q: Then what?

A: To everyone’s shock, the department manager showed up! It wasn’t midnight yet, he must have been out partying and decided not to wait till morning. He trots in smelling like a rave club—

Q: I have to interject, I’m amazed you knew what a rave club smells like after such a short time in the city.

A: Yeah, that is kind of amazing, isn’t it? Anyway, the guy shows up with a big laundry cart and starts heaving my friends into it! Those tee shirts weren’t the brightest, but they knew from the way he was tossing them, no one was going to bother to fold them properly again. And the hats were pleading pathetically for their lives, saying they could be given to gang members or something, that it wouldn’t matter because their logos would be in back, but the manager ignored it all.

Q: But he didn’t see you?

A: It was close, Shinny. The two tee shirts were size XXL and hid in the mediums, so he discovered them too. I barely ducked into the big bin of reduced Knicks stuff in time. Then the manager headed out of the department with that laundry cart of death.

Q: So did you make your escape then?

A: I know I should have just cleared out of there, but I couldn’t bear to leave my friends. I followed the cart on the sly. Oh Shinny, I’ll never forget what happened next, I wish I could forget! He went to…the incinerator.

Q: Oh my goodness!

A: I watched him start to toss them in…it was horrible…the wailing, the stench of burning canvas and cotton/polyester blend…then I couldn’t take it anymore and I had to bolt out of there. I ran out onto the street…it was starting to rain. I ran right in front of a bus but I think that’s what saved me—the bus flung me into a muddy puddle and that hid the Devils logo and the Stanley Cup embroidery. I slept in an alley that night, wondering if I’d last till morning.

Q: Horrible, Mr. Hat, just nightmarish.

A: Ever since then it’s been one dumpster to another, trying to make my way to New Jersey and Exit 16W in the hopes that some fan there will take me in and hide me from the authorities until people lose track of which year the Devils actually won. Or maybe that nice fan will know how to sew and can change the "1" into a "0" and I’ll be safe.

Q: We hope you make it, Mr. Hat. And we want to go on record as saying that this horrific story illustrates why taking marketing to this extreme is inhuman and just plain wrong. It having a day’s jump on the marketplace worth the innocent lives of so many hats and tee shirts?

A: I hope your readers will remember the final terrified cries of my friends and think again before they order online the night the Cup is won!

Q: Amen to that.