In sports world, Jeremy Roenick was one of a kind

I'm feeling just a bit older today.

Jeremy Roenick announced his retirement Thursday.

How in the world can J.R. be 40 years old and hanging up his skates? I still see the brash 18-year-old kid who showed up for his first training camp with the Blackhawks (and mine) in 1988, full of energy, confidence and flashing the potential for greatness that would come later.

Roenick, straight out of high school, was planning to go to college in Boston but decided against it when he found out how much reading was involved. Typical J.R. Always ready to deliver the goods to reporters.

Roenick was a dream come true for the beat writers covering the Hawks in those days. He had an opinion on everything. And it always mattered what he said because he was a star on one of the best teams in the NHL.

Some of Roenick's teammates resented his popularity, and veterans such as Chris Chelios, Steve Smith and Dirk Graham wished he would shut up at times and not have so much to say, but that's what made Roenick what he was - one of the most dynamic personalities ever to play.

Roenick would welcome phone calls at home from writers, unlike some of today's young players who act like you want some of their money when you ask for a cell phone number. Those guys don't get it. Roenick always got it. He knew the power of the media when it came to furthering his career, and he played the game perfectly.

Not that he needed to. Roenick's talent was immense early on, and fortunately for Hawks fans they got to watch him during his best years, from 1990 through 1994 when he twice scored 50 goals or more and racked up seasons of 94, 103, 107 and 107 points.

Roenick played all out, all the time. He was reckless on the ice, throwing his body around like a fourth-liner. It caught up to him eventually, like Roenick always knew it would, but he wasn't about to change the style that defined him.

I'm going to miss J.R. as a friend first. He always had time, and our chats weren't always about hockey. Just last season after a morning skate in San Jose we talked about our teenage daughters and the difficulties of raising girls. J.R. said when his daughter turned 18 he was going to pack up all her stuff and leave it on the front porch. He was kidding, but I knew exactly what he meant.

I will remember Roenick for being the second biggest mistake the late Bill Wirtz ever made.

When Wirtz ordered general manager Bob Pulford to trade Roenick in 1996 because of contract problems, it set the franchise back a decade. He was the Hawks' best and most popular player by a mile.

The only mistake Wirtz made that was bigger than trading Roenick in his prime was letting Bobby Hull get away in 1972. Roenick should have been a Hawk for life, and he deserved every penny he was seeking.

When current Hawks president John McDonough speaks of how the old regime held grudges, Roenick is Exhibit A. He wanted too much money. Wirtz and Pulford didn't like his agent so he was gone to Phoenix in a deal that netted Alex Zhamnov, the poorest excuse for a captain in the history of the franchise.

But what I'll always remember most about my days covering Jeremy Roenick was the 1992 Stanley Cup Finals and how he sat next to Brent Sutter in full uniform in the dressing room in bowels of Chicago Stadium long after the Hawks were swept by the Pittsburgh Penguins.

The room was nearly empty, but there sat Roenick and Sutter, in their white uniforms, skates still tied.

Roenick barely could speak, so fresh was the disappointment. He spoke of how this might have been his only chance at winning the Stanley Cup even though he was only 22. Turns out Roenick never got back to the Finals.

Not every player needs a Stanley Cup ring to measure greatness. Jeremy Roenick is one of those guys.