By Emma Lingan
The Detroit Red Wings finally closed one long-standing chapter by raising Sergei Fedorov’s 91 to the rafters this week. It felt like a healing moment for a franchise that spent years pretending one of its most transcendent stars never existed.
Now comes the harder part. Because once you start telling the whole story of Red Wings hockey again, three more numbers begin to glow from the ice: 13, 40 and 16.
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Pavel Datsyuk. Henrik Zetterberg. Vladimir Konstantinov.
They aren’t just great former players. They are the connective tissue between eras. They are the bridge from dynasty to identity. They are the reason “Red Wings hockey” still means something specific in 2026.
And if the rafters are meant to tell the story of this franchise, those stories are incomplete without them.
