Tim Benz: Ray Shero's sense for the moment served him, and the Penguins, quite well

When I heard about the untimely death of former Pittsburgh Penguins general manager Ray Shero Wednesday afternoon, a specific memory of interviewing him quickly came to mind.

I think about it often, independent of hockey, the Penguins, or, up until Wednesday, even independent of Shero himself.

In over 30 years of working in sports media, it was one of the most genuine, human interactions I’ve ever had on-the-record with a sports figure that I was interviewing.

It was the evening of Feb. 26, 2008, a few hours after the Penguins had acquired Marian Hossa. He was the big fish that Shero had been hunting before the trade deadline. The fanbase wanted him. The organization felt like it needed him. The city had been wishing it into existence for a few weeks.

With the likes of Sidney Crosby, Marc-Andre Fleury, Evgeni Malkin and Jordan Staal, the Penguins had emerged from the lockout and years of failure at a rate much faster than expected. They qualified for the postseason in 2007 and were 35-21-7 in ‘08 at the time of the move.

Pittsburgh also got Pascal Dupuis in the deal with Atlanta. Shero gave the Thrashers fan-favorite Colby Armstrong, forward Erik Christensen, prospect Angelo Esposito and a future first-round pick in 2009.

The swap was announced two minutes before the 3 p.m. deadline, as was a corresponding trade to get defenseman Hal Gill from Toronto. It was an afternoon that would enhance the recently resurgent Penguins for an eventual run to the Stanley Cup Final that year and would give Shero pieces that became part of the team that eventually would win the Cup in 2009.

The Hossa trade was one that Shero claimed had a “5% chance of happening” just a month earlier. The work to make it happen was extensive.

At the time, I was working for the Penguins radio rights holder, 105.9 The X. I was told I could get Shero for a brief one-on-one interview after the press conference and a few other media appearances.

By the time the trade calls with the NHL were finalized, Shero had fulfilled his other obligations, and — if memory serves — we had spoken to Hossa on an old-fashioned squawk box; it was early evening. The Penguins were about to play a game on Long Island as Shero and the front office were back in Pittsburgh at the old Mellon Arena with us.

I was eventually led into the lounge area of the locker room on the other side of the changing room, where we normally spoke with the players. Shero sat down next to me, looking like he had been shadowing Hossa on the ice for a full afternoon instead of simply trading for him — exhausted but exhilarated.

He let himself slump into a chair next to me. I cued up my (now thoroughly outdated) minidisc recorder. Shero tossed his jacket to the side and held a freshly opened bottle of beer.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Shero said. “I could use one.”

“No,” I replied. “I can tell.”

He took two sips. I got the sense that the first one was to unwind, and the second one was to celebrate.

As gassed as Shero was, the elation he had with completing the trade couldn’t be contained when he spoke with me over the next few minutes.

There was a tangible wave of affirmation washing over him because he knew he had the proper motive for the trade, regardless of whether or not it was going to work. It was early in the Penguins’ renaissance, but the time was right to strike.

It wasn’t just excitement for acquiring an All-Star talent like Hossa. It was excitement for the moment in time in which the Penguins were existing. It was understanding that the franchise was on the cusp of something special, and he may have just added the piece that would make the difference.

To a large degree, what Shero did that afternoon, accomplished exactly that. The Penguins went from one-and-done in the ‘07 playoffs to nearly forcing Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final against Detroit in ‘08.

And even though Hossa couldn’t be retained that summer, we all remember what happened in ‘09 and how Dupuis and Gill were a big part of it.

A few years later, the movie “Moneyball” was released. The first time I saw the scene where Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) pulls off the trade for Ricardo Rincon, I immediately thought of Shero that evening in 2008.

That’s the kind of energy and relief he exuded initially, giving way to the instant pangs of regret over who had to be shipped out in the deal.

Whatever Shero said during the interview itself wasn’t groundbreaking or, frankly, all that different than what he had said to the assembled media in calm and measured tones just a short time earlier.

That’s not what I remember.

It was how he said what he did. It was the smile on his face. It was the veil being pulled back from his normally business-like exterior. It was allowing pragmatism to melt away for unbridled optimism about “what may be” someday soon.

I don’t even think Shero finished that beer. I’m pretty sure he left about half of it behind on the table.

The game on Long Island was about to start. I think it was just the first few sips that mattered, anyway. A solo toast to the work that had been done. A solo toast to drinking out of the Stanley Cup sometime soon.

That champagne probably went down a lot better. I’m glad Shero eventually got the chance to taste it.

LISTEN: Tim Benz and Penn State’s Dane Dowiak discuss the Western Pa. influence in Thursday’s Frozen Four