McKenna: Why Keith Yandle Is The Ultimate Teammate

Keith Yandle is the only teammate that ever said “thank you” to me for setting a puck behind the net. At the time it made me giggle. It was fun and light-hearted. But also genuine. Here we are playing a game in the NHL and this guy is thanking me for the littlest thing.

And now the entire world knows about Yandle’s manners.

During a preseason game between the Philadelphia Flyers and the Boston Bruins on October 4, Yandle picked up a puck behind the net from Flyers teammate goaltender Carter Hart. A microphone directly above them caught the exchange.

Good manners by Keith Yandle with the "thank you"! 🤣🤣 pic.twitter.com/dQ54poAbT7

— NHL (@NHL) October 5, 2021

Laugh. Out. Loud.

And it’s even funnier because I’ve lived it. Granted, Yandle and I only played one regular-season NHL game together with the Arizona Coyotes and a few preseason tilts with the Florida Panthers. But the “thank you” moment is something I’ll never forget.

It wasn’t the only memorable interaction between us. I was with the Coyotes for almost a month and a half of the 2014-15 season, and somehow Yandle took my nickname from Kenny to Kennzoil. No clue why or how. It just happened.

Then he – along with Kyle Chipchura – conjured up an alternate reality where I played a saxophone underneath the Gateway Arch. Part of it makes some sense. St. Louis is my hometown and I often speak fondly of it. All of my former teammates were fully aware. And the Gateway Arch is an iconic landmark. Yandle and Chipchura couldn’t get enough of their fictional story and it started to take on a life of its own.

But I do not play the saxophone.

It’s actually pretty ironic. Recently there’s been a trend to include saxophone in heavy metal music. And I’m a huge metalhead. But I simply cannot get on board with it. Saxophones have no place in metal. Despite Keith having no clue about my feelings toward the woodwind, it’s the instrument he visualized me playing. Perfect.

He was also very clear in his disdain for my Coyotes mask. Granted, it wasn’t exactly a masterpiece. The design process was bungled from the start and I ended up switching painters the next season. Yandle repeatedly told me it looked like I bought it at Canadian Tire.

We’re both American. Canadian Tire doesn’t exist south of the border. 

And then there was pregame soccer. Most NHL players are pretty good at everything. Give them a soccer ball and they’ll juggle it. Give them a basketball and they’ll hit jump shots and layups. Give them a football and they can throw a spiral – except the Russians. 

You should have seen 18-year old Alexander Radulov try to throw a football at Nashville Predators development camp years ago. But that’s a story for another day.

Remember what I was saying about NHL athletes being good at most sports? Yeah…that’s not me. I was good at tennis and baseball. But everything else? Woof. So you can imagine that when it came to pregame soccer, I wasn’t the greatest.

Pregame soccer is alternately known as two-touch or sewer ball. There are few rules and all of them are informal. Each player is allowed to touch the ball twice to keep it airborne, and it has to be kicked in the vicinity of a teammate.

Most players just want to warm up and keep the ball in the air. Rallies can go a long time and trick shots are encouraged.

But not BJ Crombeen.

BJ loved to sewer people. He’d kick it hard at someone’s shins – a nearly impossible ball to handle when you’re trying to keep it airborne. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I became Crombeen’s target. Every chance he got, he’d blast the ball in my direction. And I had to play it.

One of the rules of two-touch is that you can’t get out of the way of the ball. In hockey circles it’s known as “matrixing.” Like when Neo disappears in The Matrix.

You are not allowed to matrix.

So I’d stand in there and do my best to keep the ball airborne. But with my limited athletic ability, it didn’t happen very often. I’d get frustrated. Occasionally I raised my voice.

Yandle found it hilarious.

“Keep it going, Kenny! Come on Kennzoil, you gotta try harder!” I can still hear his voice badgering me after every dropped ball. He absolutely loved watching me suffer at the hands of Crombeen.

And then there’s the time we went golfing in Arizona and Yandle waited for my foursome at a 170-yard par three. We get up to the tee box and he starts yelling at me. “No way you hit this green, Kennzoil! No way!” He’s offering odds to teammates and taking bets on whether or not I can do it.

I’m horrible at golf. But I hit the green with a magical 7-iron. It might have been twenty feet from the pin, but I put it on the dance floor. Keith went nuts. He took off running around the green cheering.

I might have only spent a couple months playing with Yandle but it was always entertaining. He’s the funniest teammate I’ve ever had – and I know I’m not alone in that sentiment.

Every time a live mic catches him saying “thank you” or “sonk” during the game, I can’t help but smile. I’ve lived it. I’ve been both the punchline and the recipient of his pleasantries. And I haven’t even told you about the time I almost had to wear Sketchers Shape-ups for an entire road trip because I lost a bet to Yandle and the rest of my Coyotes teammates.

But I’ll save that story for another day. Sonk.