Thank You, Nick Nickson!

My first introduction to Nick Nickson came back in 2018.

I was in my first season with the Ontario Reign and I had the opportunity to fill in on a roadtrip with the Kings in December, as Jon Rosen was on paternity leave for the birth of his son. To me, that trip was fantasy camp, right? Six months earlier, I rode the bus from Glens Falls to Manchester in the ECHL and now, I was on the charter flight with an NHL team.

I didn’t know very many people on the trip but I did know Alex Faust pretty well and he was gracious enough to invite me to dinner with the broadcast crew in Columbus. The restaurant was Martini’s and if you don’t know, that’s the best chicken parmesan in the NHL. During the meal, I sat next to Nick. I obviously knew of Nick but really didn’t know him all that well. Learned during that meal we were both New York guys, me from the Capital Region and him from Rochester, living pretty far away from home. An instant connection when you can talk with a guy who actually understands the differences between Upstate New York and Western New York. It was a fun night.

At the end of the meal, the checks came around the table.

Working in the AHL, I didn’t make a ton of money. NHL per diem was nice, though, and it wasn’t as if it was a $500 per-person meal, but minor-league hockey is certainly not known for lavish salaries. As the waiter came around, he went to Nick before me. Nick said, simply, “I’ll pay for mine and for Zach’s next to me.” I didn’t know what to say, besides just thank you.

That moment always stuck with me, even today. He didn’t say it loudly. He didn’t do it for others to hear or see. I certainly didn’t expect it. It was just the kind of person Nick was and it was always apparent from then on that’s who he was.

That dinner was really the first time we had talked. For Nick, I’m sure he probably doesn’t even remember that night, especially considering that we’ve dined there several times since. For me, though, it’s a night I’ll never forget and not just for the wonderful chicken parm. Nick knew what it was like to be the guy who had just moved 3,000 miles from home. He knew what it was like to work in the minor leagues. And he knew how to show someone they were welcomed.

They say that a small gesture goes a long way. Can certainly vouch for that.

Why I lead with this anecdote is because I think in their own way, so many people can relate to Nick. For so many, Nick is the voice they grew up with. The voice of the LA Kings. The voice they equate watching or listening to hockey with. While not everyone has a personal interaction, Nick has always been the guy who has told you the story of the Kings, from your radio, your computer, your phone and most recently, your television. His job is that of a storyteller, stepping aside when analysis is needed, selflessly carrying the broadcast along to make others look good and doing so gracefully, without ego.

It’s what he’s done for 44 years. It’s what we’ll all miss in the fall, when another voice will take on that job. A talented voice, certainly, but it will be weird for it not to be Nick.

It’s for those reasons why last night was special for so many who know Nick. For 44 years, he’s simply been the guy behind the microphone. The guy who served as the emcee for ceremonies that honor others. Last night, the tables were turned and Nick was centerstage, getting the recognition he deserved for everything he’s given to the Kings and to Kings fans.

Nick told me prior to the ceremony that he’d have 4-5 minutes for his speech. He thought that was more than enough. Has to be hard, though, to get everything and everyone he wants to mention into those four minutes, but he did so gracefully. That’s what makes him, him. A Hall of Famer on the mic found a way. As he was putting together his words, his thoughts and who he wanted to thank, as he always does, he found a way to say a lot without saying all that much. I think that’s just part of what makes Nick great.

While this season is the last we’ll see of Nick in the booth, I don’t think it’ll be the last we see of him. He said he’d like to continue hosting ceremonies for the Kings when he’s able to. If you don’t think we’re going to try and get him on our podcasts going forward to share his wealth of hockey history, you’d be mistaken. But it’s time for him to make the change. It was time, in his mind, at the end of last season, but he and the Kings agreed that he’d do two years on television before moving on to something greater than hockey.

Family.

“A lot of people have asked me this year, are you getting nostalgic as the games have wound down here and I think, because this has been on my radar for a couple of years, and I knew beginning last year that I was going to do two more years, I’ve had all this time to prepare myself, probably more mentally than anything because I’m looking forward to retirement,” he said. “I want to do things while I’m still able to do them, healthy, with my wife. I want to see my grandkids play their games. Casey is in high school and Avery is going into junior high and they both play sports. My wife and I like to travel. We still have family back East and want to get back to see them, so I’m looking forward to doing what I want to do, when I want to do it.”

He admitted that perhaps after the ceremony, it might start to finally sink in for him. Might come later in the month. This is, after all, his last month of calling regular-season hockey. He said he doesn’t consider himself to be a nostalgic person. Liked to keep things looking forward. He certainly has a lot of things beyond the broadcast booth to look ahead to.

But he’ll miss the people. He’ll miss the places. He’ll miss the excitement. He’ll miss the milestones, having been a part of a few great ones over the years, in what he called perhaps his favorite moments outside of the two. championships. He’ll really miss turning on that headset and doing what he’s done so well over the years.

“I still enjoy the challenge of doing games,” Nickson said. “When I was on radio for all those years, my challenge every night was to try to broadcast the game so a listener could understand and know where the play was, kind of paint the picture, as they say. Hockey is so spontaneous, you can’t see it on the radio, so that was how I challenged myself when I did radio all those years, to present the game. If you’re listening, you know where the puck is. I’ll miss the challenge of doing a broadcast.”

Something that, by his admission, is unattainable, ultimately, but something that’s kept his fastball humming all these years. Chasing that perfection on the air, that paints the most beautiful picture for everyone listening. A broadcast that is as likely to come on a cold night in Ottawa in December as it is a Game 7 in the Stanley Cup Playoffs. The pursuit of perfection, ever difficult, has kept him going.

Perhaps most of all, though, he’ll miss chasing the “perfect broadcast.”

“From my perspective, I’m somewhat of a perfectionist and I haven’t said this to very many people, but I’ve always tried to do the perfect broadcast, and it’s never going to happen,” he added. “But, I think if you get close to that, you’re pretty good, you’re doing a pretty good job.”

Pretty good doesn’t tell the half of it, Nick.

Thank you for chasing perfection all these years. And thank you for being you, on and off the air, as you did it.

Soon, it’ll be your time to do what you want, when you want it. To golf when he wants to golf. To be a grandfather when he wants to be a grandfather. To travel as he wants to travel. Hopefully, though, that comes a few months down the road. Because if things shake out one way versus the other, that microphone has still got a few memories left in it.

So thank you, Nick. For that dinner and for everything else along the way.