NASHVILLE, Tenn. -- Detroit Red Wings fans have the octopus. The Panthers' faithful in Florida had the "rat trick."
Nashville? The Predators have catfish, a Southern staple that has become a beloved badge of honor fans delight in throwing onto the ice for good luck.
Who started Music City's slippery tradition? This fish tale stretches from the home of one of the Original Six NHL franchises to what once was one of Nashville's seediest neighborhoods a generation ago, following the long and twisting path of a man who has been a country music drummer, disc jockey, chef and restaurant owner. And, as he tells it, Nashville's original catfish chucker.
He is Bob Wolf, and he feels his need for secrecy finally is at an end.
"It's been 20 years almost, and it's time," Wolf said.
The Predators host their first Stanley Cup Final game tonight with Pittsburgh leading the best-of-seven series 2-0.
Nashville's catfish tradition became national news earlier this week thanks to Jacob Waddell, 36. After an extraordinary effort to conceal a flattened catfish on his person, Waddell threw it onto the ice -- in Pittsburgh -- on Monday night.
The Predators then scored three goals before Pittsburgh pulled out a 5-3 victory in the opener. Waddell was charged with disorderly conduct, possessing instruments of crime and disrupting meetings or processions before the charges were withdrawn.
Wolf said the idea to toss a catfish grew out of a discussion during the Predators' inaugural season in 1998-99. Wolf is a Rangers' fan born in Brooklyn who played drums for Johnny Paycheck and others before going into the restaurant business in Nashville. He lobbied the city to build an arena on the other corner of his restaurant to spur redevelopment of what then was a neighborhood down on its luck.
The Detroit Red Wings immediately became Nashville's biggest foe once the Predators landed an NHL expansion franchise.
A couple days before Detroit's visit in January 1999, Wolf said, he sat with friends looking for a uniquely Tennessee answer to the Red Wings' storied octopus tradition. Jack Daniel's whiskey was too precious. Guitar picks were way too small. Wolf's inspiration came when he walked outside and looked down Broadway Avenue to the Cumberland River.
Catfish, he thought.
Wolf bought a 9-pound catfish and wrapped it in newspaper and plastic wrap. On Jan. 26, 1999, Wolf tucked the catfish underneath his Predators' jersey, walked in and waited for Nashville's first goal. The stench started wafting around him until the Preds' lone goal in what ended up a 4-1 loss.
Wolf said he tossed the catfish, then ran up the aisle. Friends around the arena provided cover and a distraction by running as well.
"The first time I saw the catfish flop on the ice, we were playing Detroit so I thought it was an octopus," Leipold, now owner of the Minnesota Wild, said. "I was pleasantly surprised when I realized it was a catfish. I figured that it had to be one of our fans mocking the Red Wings. I was not disappointed."
Wolf said Leipold, still a close friend, did not know about the catfish. With a small bar inside the arena, Wolf said he knew where to hide from security, too.
"It wasn't meant to be anything but fun and answer Detroit's call to their octopus," said Wolf, now semi-retired and living in Saint Paul, Minnesota. "'Hey, we're the new Southern team on the ice, and we're going to throw a catfish on the ice.' That was kind of the attitude that day."
Nashville was hooked. The catfish caught on. The tradition became so popular that officials started handing out delay of game penalties against the Predators, which put things on ice for a while.
Five hit the ice one night early in this year's playoffs. Little Fish Market in Nashville is offering a free catfish to fans with a ticket to Game 3 or Game 4 of the Stanley Cup-- that's $1.95 a pound, including head, skin and guts.
The Predators don't discuss security procedures, and it's not clear how many catfish will be in attendance -- in secret or otherwise -- at Games 3 and 4. Tossing catfish during pregame festivities appears to work best for fans, with one caveat: Don't hit the anthem singer.
Pete Weber, the Predators' radio play-by-play man, loves explaining to outsiders why Nashville fans toss a catfish.
"I really tend to get tickled when I see a catfish go over the glass," Weber said. "I absolutely love that."
Sports on 06/03/2017