Less than half an hour into Dirk Nowitzki’s retirement in 2019, it was announced that a statue in his honor would be erected outside the American Airlines Center. (The 24-foot, 9,000-pound sculpture was unveiled on Christmas Day 2022.) When Mike Modano’s bronze likeness joins Nowitzki’s on PNC Plaza on March 16, 2024, the Stars great will have been out of hockey for 13 years and out of Dallas for a dozen. That this tracks so cleanly makes the Modano statue a complicated tribute: an honor that feels a tad over the top in some ways, but also feels obvious for one essential reason.
His case isn’t helped by the company he’ll soon keep, of course. Arena statues, retired numbers, Hall of Fame busts—these are inherently comparative exercises, which means there is no way to talk about Modano being the AAC’s second statue without juxtaposing him against the first. And, well, nobody is Dirk Nowitzki. The greatest Dallas athlete of all time doubled as its most loyal: the fiercest to defend his adopted city and his professional franchise, even during those times when he shouldn’t have, even though he was born 5,000 miles and an ocean away. The statue was fait accompli: Dallas already named a street after the man. What’s a few more tons of metal?
Modano’s case is less straightforward, even if he is the Stars’ most famous player. Few North Texas athletes were more exhilarating to watch; if Omri Amrany, who also designed the Nowitzki statue, tries to capture Modano’s playing style with anything other than him skating with that silky stride, jersey rippling behind him, he’s done him a disservice. There was so much production, too, most of which still endures. No American-born player has ever scored more goals, or recorded more points, or notched more game-winners. He remains Dallas’ franchise leader in points, goals, assists, and minutes.
But there was always an element to Modano’s story that left everyone wanting something more.
For him to be a talent on par with Peter Forsberg and Sergei Federov, or a leader who measured up to Joe Sakic and Steve Yzerman—the star pivots anchoring Dallas’ archrivals of the day, the Colorado Avalanche and Detroit Red Wings, respectively.
To be the captain Derian Hatcher was before him and Brenden Morrow and Jamie Benn became later, rather than the icon who got the C stripped off his sweater two years after receiving it.
To retire in Dallas instead of after that aberrant season in Detroit.
To make his home here instead of in Phoenix.
To keep working here instead of for the Minnesota Wild, as he now does.
Much of that perception is beyond his control. He left Dallas because the team didn’t want him back, and he signed with the Red Wings because that’s what a native Michigander who worshipped Gordie Howe—it’s a big part of why he wore No. 9—is liable to do. He moved to Arizona to support his wife’s golf career, and they stayed there for their five kids, and all of that is more important than hockey, which is why he works for another NHL franchise, because the Wild made accommodations the Stars would not.
But what isn’t out of Modano’s hands, or wasn’t, at least, is that the greatest Dallas Star did not dominate his sport or author a legend on par with the greatest Dallas Maverick—or, for that matter, the greatest Texas Ranger (Pudge Rodriguez) or the greatest Dallas Cowboy (take your pick, although we’ll settle on Emmitt Smith for the sake of this exercise). Brett Hull, not Modano, scored the iconic goal that clinched the Stanley Cup in 1999. Joe Nieuwendyk, the Robin to Modano’s Batman, took home the Conn Smythe as the best playoff performer of that run. As Sean Shapiro noted in April, Jason Robertson, in his third season as an NHL regular, already scratched a ceiling higher than one Modano ever touched. Modano still holds the mantle for now, but presuming health and tenure, odds are the true greatest Dallas Star is a 24-year-old on the current roster—and it is a testament to how bright the future is that I could plausibly be referring to either of Robertson or fellow 2017 draftee Miro Heiskanen.
In that light, the statue could feel forced, as though—as Robert Tiffin astutely points out—Tom Gaglardi got tired of his franchise being the AAC co-tenant without one in the plaza and Modano was the best candidate in the right moment.
Except there is a much bigger legacy in play. More than any other North Texas athlete, Modano was tasked with representing something bigger than himself. For 16 years, the greatest American hockey ever produced could be found not in Detroit or Chicago or Boston, but Dallas—a place that began as a hockey backwater and Modano ensured need not remain one. Nowitzki and Rodriguez legitimized their franchises, while Smith spearheaded the greatest era of his own, but only Modano had to embody an entire sport, to serve as proof of concept that a man on ice could dazzle and captivate even in the heart of football country.
And, most of all, win. Without Modano, the Stars do not win big, and had the Stars not won big, there could have been precious little standing in the way of Dallas becoming Atlanta, a pro hockey market that failed twice over, or Arizona, where the Coyotes are adrift and rudderless—too financially entrenched to leave (for now) but too culturally insignificant to matter. That’s why, during an interview on last night’s broadcast, Razor Reaugh didn’t bother running through Modano’s stat sheet. Instead, he told him, “You’re the foundation of everything that’s gone on around here.”
Given that, of course there should be a statue of him in front of the building, regardless of whatever nits could be picked. Because were it not for Mike Modano, there might not be any hockey inside it.
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