Dallas Stars: Remembering The Life And Legacy Of Dave Strader

Earlier this morning, the news broke of Dave Strader’s passing. The 62-year-old Dallas Stars play-by-play announcer died after a brief battle with cancer. Here is one final letter to a great encourager, mentor, friend, and icon.

The Dallas Stars community went dim this morning.

Around 9 a.m., the news broke that Stars’ play-by-play announcer Dave Strader passed away after a brief battle with cholangiocarcinoma. It’s a rare but aggressive form of bile duct cancer.

Strader, otherwise known as “The Voice,” was diagnosed with the disease in June 2016 after his first year with Dallas. As a result, he missed the majority of the 2016-17 season while undergoing treatments. He did, however, make a brief return during a five-game home stretch in late February. And that’s what made Dave so special. His fight and determination to do what he loved was an inspiration to all.

And Dave did what he loved for a long time. He began his hockey broadcasting career in 1979 with the Adirondack Red Wings. In 1985, he was promoted to the Detroit Red Wings’ booth, and that’s where the real journey began.

Dallas Stars

Over 32 years, Strader spent time with the Detroit Red Wings, Florida Panthers, Arizona Coyotes, and finally the Dallas Stars. He has called games in the NHL, Winter Olympics, WNBA, and even women’s college basketball. And if one thing was sure, it was that Strader would bring a smile and a strong sense of professionalism and skill to each game he commentated.

When he arrived in Dallas in the summer of 2015, Stars fans didn’t really know what to think. The franchise had just lost Ralph Strangis, the only voice the team had ever known, after a 22-year run as the play-by-play man in Dallas. Strader immediately assumed the role and could not have done a better job at making a seamless transition.

He embedded himself in the community, made a positive impression, and became a member of the Stars family. The crazy part is he did it all in one season.

But that was Dave. He was a shining light of encouragement and determination throughout the hockey world, and his fight has served as an inspiration.

His attitude mixed with his knack for commentating helped him earn the Foster Hewitt Memorial Award this past spring. Strader will be inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame in November. And though he won’t be there to accept the award in person, we can all rest in the fact that The Voice will be watching and celebrating accordingly.

More from Blackout Dallas

So now we sit back on this quiet Sunday afternoon and remember “The Voice.” We remember all that he accomplished, all that he did, and the impressive impact he had on the hockey world.

When he was initially diagnosed, I wrote an open letter, serving as the speaker for the entire Dallas Stars community. I think it’s only right to scribe a letter to him in his untimely passing.

So this one’s for you Dave. Here’s one last letter of thanks for all that you did to make Dallas Stars hockey what it is today.

Dear Dave,

As I was walking out of church this morning, I turned on my phone and saw the notification. Being in the middle of a crowd exiting through the double doors, I did something that I probably shouldn’t have done: I stopped moving. The congregation quickly adjusted and moved around me while I stood there, motionless and speechless. I stood there for what seemed like forever before making my way to my truck.

I couldn’t believe it. One of the strongest pains that death has to offer is its unexpectedness. At many times, it gives no prior warning and can come out of nowhere. And when it does, it punches you in the gut and doubles you over. I learned this lesson the hard way when I lost my brother in 2015, and it’s a painful one that hangs with you forever.

It was December 17, 2015 that I first had the chance of shaking your hand. I was in town from college for Christmas break and had just finished up interviewing Johnny Oduya in the Stars’ locker room after morning skate when I saw you sitting in the media room. Being the nervous and aspiring sports media major that I was, I couldn’t bring myself to walking up and starting a conversation with you.

So I had Mike Heika help introduce me. When he did, I just sort of let it all go. I told you of my history in sports media, my dreams and aspirations of being a hockey commentator/writer, and all that I was currently doing as the editor at Blackout Dallas.

Whenever I would tell this story to professional commentators and writers, more often than not I would get the typical response: “That’s awesome. Keep it up and keep dreaming big.” That’s a perfectly logical response, but once you hear it so many times, it can lose its significance.

But as luck would have it, you didn’t give me that response. Instead, you passed on some tips, encouraged me in my drive, and told me that you would start keeping up with Blackout Dallas and reading my articles. I somehow maintained my professionalism and composure through it all.

That’s one of the many things that made you special, Dave. You were a great encourager and motivator. You used the utmost sincerity and compassion in each interaction you had. Fan, player, writer, stadium employee; it didn’t matter. Every person associated with the Stars was a friend in your eyes.

After your stellar first season with the team, the cancer diagnosis was a crushing blow to the Dallas Stars family that you had just recently joined. For the Stars community, we didn’t know what to do.

We had just lost Ralph Strangis after 20 something years and needed someone to put our faith in. After one season, we knew that you were the perfect replacement. When that diagnosis hit, we immediately began staring at the worst-case scenario yet again.

But you wouldn’t let us. Your fight, your determination, and your drive to get back to doing what you loved was not only amazing, but also inspiring. Your fight was something that we wanted to get behind. That’s why I wrote you that letter in June 2016. You cared for the Dallas Stars community, so it’s only right that we did the same for you.