Interviews
The Voice of the Friendly City: DJ Abisalih’s Journey from Maine to Hockey Immortality in Wheeling, WV
Published
8 months agoon
By
Dave Parsonsby Dave Parsons
The strategy room, located within the offices of the Wheeling Nailers ECHL hockey franchise office in downtown Wheeling, WV, has a long conference table, office chairs, and 4 whiteboards covering two walls. Although it is late July, the boards are filled with notes and plans for the upcoming season, with plans mostly for OFF the ice.
DJ Abisalih, the Broadcasting Voice of the Nailers and Director of Media/Community Relations, comes into the room with the same 1,000-watt smile and power handshake he always greets you with. At 37, he hit a milestone that would make most broadcasters envious. On November 30, 2024, he broadcast his 1,000th game with the Wheeling Nailers, making him the longest-tenured broadcaster in team history.
It’s the nice days of summer, but you know that it’s close enough that it’s like, all right, the gas pedal’s getting hit real soon, Abisalih says, his voice carrying the same energy that has defined Nailers broadcasts since 2011. Even in the dog days of summer, he’s working—organizing community events, researching player signings, updating his meticulous historical records, and preparing for another season as the voice that has become synonymous with professional hockey in the Ohio Valley.
The Maine native speaks the same way he’s called thousands of hockey games, but his eyes light up when he talks about his journey to this moment. Before DJ Abisalih became synonymous with Wheeling hockey, he was just another young broadcaster grinding it out in the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League with the Lewiston MAINEiacs. Professional hockey at the minor league level is unforgiving, and careers can end as quickly as they begin.
I was a terrible athlete, he recalls with characteristic self-deprecation. I had one hit in Little League. But what he lacked in athletic ability, he made up for in passion and an almost obsessive attention to detail that would later define his career.
The path to Wheeling wasn’t a straight line. After working two seasons in Lewiston, first as a color commentator under Alex Reed, then promoted to head broadcaster when Reed left, Abisalih thought he had found his calling. But professional hockey, particularly at the junior level, is a business built on shifting sands. Fast forward to May of that year, and the team just could not financially make it anymore, he explains. The league stepped in, bought the team, dissolved it, and put the players into a dispersal draft.
Just like that, Abisalih was out of a job.
So just as quickly as I was into it, I was out of it in the matter of less than a year.
While many would have seen this as a sign to find a more stable career, Abisalih doubled down. He spent the summer of 2011 working with the Portland Sea Dogs baseball team, doing whatever they needed. He did ticket office work, studio hosting, color commentary, and occasional play-by-play. But hockey remained his first love, and he applied to different teams throughout the summer, hoping for another chance.
October 6th, 2011. The date is burned into Abisalih’s memory not just because it changed his life, but because of the eerie coincidence it represented. Wild, because October 6th was the exact day the year before that, they told me Alex was coming to Wheeling, so I was getting the Lewiston job.
At 11 AM that morning, Jim Brooks, one of the Wheeling Nailers’ owners at the time, called for what would serve as both an interview and an audition. The stakes couldn’t have been higher. The team had a preseason game THAT NIGHT (which was ultimately canceled due to a mechanical failure that saw water gushing from the ice), and the season was about to begin. It came down to Abisalih and another candidate. His previous play-by-play experience gave him the edge.
They called me at probably about 4:30, and they said, Okay, we’re hiring you. I said, okay, just so you guys know, I’m coming from Scarborough, Maine. What followed was a logistical nightmare that would test anyone’s commitment to their craft. Abisalih packed up his entire life over a weekend, drove thirteen hours straight on Columbus Day, and arrived in Wheeling on Monday evening. Tuesday morning was his first introduction to the team, which happened to be headshot day.
It was, Hi, I’m your new broadcaster, what’s your name? Good, so I’ll be calling that on Friday night, good to know.
The crash course in professional hockey broadcasting was about to begin, and it would push Abisalih to his limits. Wednesday night brought a booster club function, and by Thursday midnight, the team was boarding a bus to Greenville for their season opener. But the real challenge came Thursday evening when the Greenville broadcaster asked for team bios, something Abisalih had never encountered in his junior hockey experience.
We didn’t do bios in Lewiston. Half our league was French. Half our league was English. There was no bio. Like, what is this nonsense?
He stayed up until 4 AM creating bios for players he barely knew, then called games for a team he was still learning about in front of fans he’d never met. I was more or less running by the seat of my pants Friday and Saturday.
That first homestand could have been a disaster, but something magical happened at the home opener. The response from the Wheeling community would set the tone for everything that followed. The Wheeling community, known for its blue-collar warmth and hockey passion, embraced its new voice.
So many people just come up and say, Hi, how are you doing? And that was like, okay, you know what? This is a good spot for me. People are very friendly. This is going to work out A-okay.
But Abisalih’s early years in Wheeling were marked by uncertainty. Just months into his first season, the Brooks Brothers announced they were putting the team up for sale. Having already experienced one team dissolution, Abisalih found himself in familiar, uncomfortable territory. The March announcement that the team had been sold to local ownership brought relief, but also change. Under the previous ownership, the broadcaster’s position was seasonal. Abisalih would work through the hockey season, then return to Maine for the summer. But he saw an opportunity to build something more permanent.
I don’t want to have to come back here every October and have to scramble to find a new place to live every time,” he told the new owners. The solution was to expand his role beyond just broadcasting. If he could prove valuable during the summer months, they could justify making it a year-round position.
This is where Abisalih’s work ethic and vision truly shone. Summer became about community building, taking team mascot Spike to events like the Italian Festival and Washington Wild Things games, promoting upcoming seasons, and building relationships that would pay dividends when hockey returned. What can we bring Spike to that will help keep the Nailers active during the summertime?
What started as just play-by-play announcing has evolved into something approaching a one-man media empire. His role expansion came naturally as the organization recognized his value beyond the broadcast booth.
Abisalih handles media relations, community relations, team travel, promotional scheduling, and has built what might be the most comprehensive historical archive in minor league hockey. His obsession with record-keeping began when he arrived and found the team’s historical documentation in shambles.
The record-keeping was abysmal, so I have pretty much combed through thousands of box scores to make sure that that is accurate and correct.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, when the hockey world shut down and uncertainty reigned, Abisalih used the time to digitize and organize decades of team photos. Working with intern Daniel O’Leary, they created a comprehensive digital archive where every player who ever suited up for Wheeling has their own folder.
This attention to detail extends to his game preparation. Before every broadcast, Abisalih creates what he calls his “one sheet guide,” a comprehensive breakdown of potential storylines, player milestones, statistical trends, and historical context. The game’s cool, but I love the preparation side of it.
One of the most remarkable aspects of Abisalih’s career has been his ability to build genuine relationships across the hockey world. The bonds between ECHL broadcasters transcend the competitive nature of the sport itself.
Despite the competitive nature of professional sports, ECHL broadcasters have formed what amounts to a traveling brotherhood. This friendship transcends team rivalries. DJ and Shane from Fort Wayne regularly go to dinner before games, despite the Nailers and Comets being divisional rivals. Nailers and comets are not the best of friends. If the fans hate the other team, I completely understand… But you know what, Shane and I are best friends.
These relationships have led to some of the broadcast booth’s more lighthearted moments. The tradition of counting icings during Sunday games in Wheeling started as a joke between broadcasters and has become a league-wide phenomenon. It’s that where yes, the game means something, yes, it’s important, but at the same time, we’re not so zoned in 24/7 that we can take a step back and we can actually have fun.
Thirteen years of broadcasting have given Abisalih a front-row seat to some of hockey’s most dramatic moments. The ability to maintain composure and entertainment value regardless of what unfolds on the ice separates good broadcasters from great ones.
He’s called comeback victories that seemed impossible, devastating defeats that stung for weeks, and everything in between. His voice was there for what he calls probably the greatest comeback I’ve seen, a 2015 game against Cincinnati where the Nailers were down 5-2 with five minutes left and somehow won 7-5.
Who comes back from three goals down with five minutes left… he recalls. So you’re even kind of talking about the next game… and all of a sudden, five three and five four came in pretty quick succession.
But perhaps more challenging than the dramatic comebacks are the blowouts, games that become unwatchable for fans but must remain engaging for radio listeners. If the listener is there and you’re down 7-1, they probably don’t want to hear a lot more about the game. They are pretty well knowing that this game is over, so how are you going to captivate my attention so that I don’t shut it off?”
The solution, Abisalih has learned, is storytelling. When the game becomes secondary, the broadcaster becomes a historian, entertainer, and companion all rolled into one. It’s during these moments that his preparation shines, having stories ready, statistics memorized, and the ability to make even a lopsided defeat somehow compelling.
While his broadcasting skills are what initially brought Abisalih to Wheeling, it’s his community work that has made him indispensable. The work extends far beyond calling games and into the fabric of the community itself.
The weekly Power Hour show at the 19th Hole has become a Wheeling institution, giving fans intimate access to players in a relaxed setting. To be able to have it on a non-game day where it gives you something for the fans to look forward to in the middle of the week, and it gives you that ability to make those in-person connections.
But perhaps his most meaningful community work centers around the annual Inclusion on Ice event, a partnership with Augusta Levy Learning Center and Easter Seals that promotes all abilities on the ice. Abisalih speaks with particular pride about watching players like Taylor connect with attendees, relationships that continue long after the event ends.
Taylor Gauthier I wish I knew the young girl’s name. I don’t, but I immediately made a connection with a young girl in a wheelchair and pushed her around the ice in the wheelchair, he recalls. But the relationship didn’t stop there. It then continued to the games where Taylor would know when that girl was at the games.
These moments represent the deeper impact of Abisalih’s work beyond the broadcast booth. A goaltender giving his number one star puck to a young fan in a wheelchair, players learning names and faces of regular attendees, and the gradual building of a true community around the team, this is where his true legacy lies.
One of the unique challenges Abisalih faces is maintaining broadcast objectivity while being emotionally invested in the team’s success. Personal relationships within the organization can make this balance even more delicate.
This became particularly challenging during Derek Army’s tenure as head coach, when a friendship dating back to high school sometimes blurred professional lines.
Derek and I have a friendship that goes all the way back to high school. I knew him as a freshman at Scarborough High School because I had just graduated the year before. But that also made it a little bit challenging because Derek, an emotional guy, sometimes he would be behind the bench, and if I saw him going at it with the referee, then I was like, well, that’s my guy. I gotta stand up for him!
Despite hockey consuming much of his year, Abisalih has built a rich life in Wheeling. The challenge of maintaining personal relationships while living the nomadic life of a minor league hockey broadcaster requires understanding partners.
His relationship with partner Mindy began in 2017, and together they’ve navigated the unique challenges of a hockey schedule. Mindy and I talked when we first started dating, and it was okay, you know I understand that this is what I’m getting into, you are going to have community events on a weekend in the summer, potentially… or during the season, you’re not going to have much time off.
During the pandemic, Abisalih discovered a passion for cooking, transforming from someone who would have burned the place down to an enthusiastic home chef. Using meal kit services as training wheels, he developed skills that now provide a therapeutic counterpoint to the intensity of hockey season.
It’s kind of that therapeutic thing, too, where it’s a nice way to end the day. Get in my own world, prep the meal. I put the red socks game on, and just like it’s a nice way to transition from the workday to the home life.
Perhaps no aspect of minor league hockey is as grueling as travel, and Abisalih has logged countless hours on team buses crisscrossing the eastern United States. The reality of life on the road reveals the less glamorous side of professional hockey.
His detailed description of life on the sleeper bus reveals the hierarchy, the cramped quarters, and the constant motion that becomes a second home.
There are three basic sections to the sleeper bus. Coaches usually get couches, trainer gets a bed, equipment guys get a bed, and I have staking claim on the table seat because I like to use it for where I do my work.
The longer trips, some as many as 14 hours or more, require leaving the night before and sleeping on the bus. But these long rides also create bonds. When the Nailers won the Eastern Conference championship in South Carolina, the celebration continued all the way home, complete with a police escort into Wheeling.
We just won the conference, and that was the one where we got to have the police escort. That was fun to navigate to, and then I told the bus driver, Hey, when we get here. I want you to pull off this spot. And that’s when all the police cars and bikes, and everything started to line up.
As Abisalih approaches his mid-thirties, the question of “what’s next” naturally arises. The tension between ambition and contentment defines many successful minor league careers.
While he’s established himself as one of the premier broadcasters in the ECHL, the dream of moving up to the American Hockey League or even the NHL remains alive. His one-game opportunity with the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins offered a tantalizing glimpse of what that next level might hold.
Ultimately, the goal is to move up. I would love to someday get that opportunity in the AHL and ultimately the NHL, but it has to be the right fit first and foremost. I don’t want to go to a team in the AHL where it’s felt like the broadcasting is basically just treated as the cherry on top.
But any move would have to make sense for his family and his values. Geographic considerations matter. California markets are financially challenging, and Abisalih has learned that not every opportunity is worth pursuing. More importantly, he’s found something in Wheeling that many broadcasters never achieve, a genuine connection with a community and a role that extends far beyond just calling games.
I embrace what I have here. I absolutely love the relationships I have with people… I kind of feel like I’m one of the kings of the castle here, just because of how long I’ve spent here, because of how much I’ve gone out of my way to connect with people.
DJ Abisalih recently called his 1,000th game with the team on November 30, 2024, a milestone that places him in rarefied air among minor league broadcasters. The number represents more than just longevity in a business known for its transient nature.
But numbers only tell part of the story. The real measure of his impact can be found in those relationships in the community that he’s helped foster, and the standard he’s set for what it means to be the voice of a hockey team.
His meticulous record-keeping means future generations will have a complete picture of Wheeling hockey history. His community work has created bonds that extend far beyond the arena. His broadcasting has provided the soundtrack to countless memories for fans throughout the Ohio Valley.
There’s nothing better every year than when we have our league meetings… We stayed up till about two in the morning this year, just shooting the breeze outside and enjoying each other’s company. For me, that is one of the greatest things in the world.
So, as the 2025 season approaches and the gas pedal gets pressed once again, DJ Abisalih is looking forward to adding to the archives of thirteen years in Wheeling. The transformation from desperate job seeker to the longest-tenured broadcaster in team history is more than just a career success story.
The scared young broadcaster who drove thirteen hours straight from Maine is gone, replaced by a confident professional who has become as much a part of the Nailers’ identity as the team logo itself.
At the end of the day, I just hope I’m still doing this. I still hope I am a professional hockey broadcaster because I absolutely love it… There’s nothing that beats it, and it’s not only the games… It’s the other parts of what comes with being a broadcaster that I absolutely love.
In professional sports, where change is constant and loyalty is rare, Abisalih has found something precious: a place where his voice matters, where his work has meaning, and where every game night offers the possibility of witnessing something magical. For a kid from Maine who just wanted to call hockey games, he’s built something that looks remarkably like home.