Sweeney Fits the Bill as Scorer for Ducks

It was a night of history, a night of intensely annoying duck-call honking (I have only three words: Ban Them Now), a night losing Coach Al Arbour described as an embarrassment to the once-proud New York Islanders’ organization.

The Mighty Ducks’ 3-2 victory over the Isles on Wednesday at Anaheim Arena was also an education.

What was learned:

1. That the Ducks will not go winless in the exhibition season. This already puts them one step up on the Rams.

2. That Duck fans are a much more highly evolved species than what was widely presumed. They seem to cheer at all the proper times--after Duck goals, after the Ducks kill a penalty, after Mark Ferner embeds an opponent into the dasher boards--and they even took to taunting the great Islander goalie after Patrik Carnback’s winning goal: “HEX-taaall! HEX-taaall!”

3. That the blueprint for Duck success in 1993-94 probably won’t deviate much from Wednesday’s floor plan:

Staunch goaltending.

Near-reckless team defense.

Resilient puck-clearing and penalty-killing.

A goal by Anatoli Semenov.

A goal by Terry Yake.

And then?

And then?

The Ducks’ 1-2 offensive punch is seriously lacking a third, and unless Jack Ferreira swaps brains with Whitey Herzog for a day and trades three No. 1 picks for Bernie Nicholls, the team will have to look within for a solution, lest it runs the risk of a new franchise designation--”the Mighty Ducks of Ottawa.”

Is there another scorer in the house?

As one sifts through the available evidence--minor league histories, old stat lines from Utica, Muskegon, Binghamton, the University of Maine--one name pops to the forefront: Tim Sweeney. Twenty-six years old . . . center/left wing . . . 73 points in 39 games as a senior at Boston College . . . 46 goals and 97 points at Salt Lake in 1988-89 . . . seven points in eight games in the 1992 Olympics . . . 41 goals and 96 points last season at Providence.

“He’s put up numbers everywhere he’s been,” says Ferreira, who was scouting for Calgary when the Flames drafted Sweeney in 1985.

“I saw a lot of the American (Hockey) League last year and I thought he was the best player in the league. When I got this job and saw he was unprotected, he was certainly one player I wanted to go with.”

Sweeney was the second forward selected by the Ducks in last June’s expansion draft, behind former Ranger Steven King. Three years ago, Sweeney was viewed as a comer in the Calgary organization, designated as heir apparent to Joe Mullen--even assigned Mullen’s old number, 7, after Mullen was traded.

But a disappointing call-up in 1990-91, followed by a contract dispute in ‘91-92, paved his way to Boston, where Sweeney found himself buried beneath the Bruins’ glut of high-scoring forwards.

He became a veteran of the Providence-Boston shuttle, promoted and demoted three times last season. Sweeney led Providence in scoring, but his three stints with Boston, all told, produced but one goal and seven assists in 14 games.

“I was very disappointed in Boston,” Sweeney says. “I never got much of a chance. Down in the minors, I put up some numbers, but after I was called up, I was always relegated to the fourth line. I was a penalty killer.”

Boston was home to Sweeney--he was born, raised and educated there--but he jumped at the idea of a job transfer to Anaheim.

“I was really hoping to be picked, especially by this team right here,” Sweeney says. “Jack Ferreira has known me since I was in the Calgary organization, he’s seen the way I play and he’s a big reason why I’m here right now.

“That’s the way things go. It’s nice to have someone like you for a change.”

One look at Sweeney and you think: Yep, Mighty Duck. He’s short (listed at an extremely generous 5-11) and squat (185 pounds), his face is round and chubby, his legs bowed and his feet splayed when he skates. Yake glides as he moves across the ice. Todd Ewen grinds. Sweeney waddles.

“If there ever was a question about him, it was on his skating,” Ferreira says. “But he’s really worked hard on that. Skating is not a problem now. He doesn’t have blazing speed, but he’s much quicker off the mark.”

This is good for the Ducks, who need Sweeney to serve as something more than an on-ice mascot. “We’re looking for him to be a 20-goal scorer, minimum,” Ferreira says. “We’re looking for more like 25 to 30 from him.”

And maybe provide some levity along the way. The expansion hockey experience is the castor-oil in the NHL medicine chest, best swallowed with heaping spoonfuls of humor, and Sweeney has a reputation as a prankster. Already he has stung Stu Grimson, the Ducks’ veteran enforcer, by sticking a mug shot of The Grim Reaper on the dressing room wall along with the inscription, “Wanted By The Professional Goaltenders Assn.”

“It, uh, pertained to Stu’s reputation for running a lot of the goalies in the league,” Sweeney says, giggling.

Grimson must have taken it OK.

Sweeney remains fully ambulatory.

“There will be more,” Sweeney warns. “We’re still getting to know each other, but once the (regular season) starts . . . I got to keep ‘em secret, but there will be some.”

So, for the moment, all is well on Golden Pond. The Islanders have been conquered, the first exhibition victory is in the books, the first regular-season defeat is still a week away. Give the Ducks these few hours.

Sweeney, certainly, is indulging. From discard to oh-what-a-card, the Ducks’ Great Red Light Hope relishes the new role.

One-liners always did suit him better than “fourth-liner.”