Close those eyes. Go ahead. Close them.

Just listen.

Thwack! A stick smacking the ice.

Fump! The puck meeting the goaltender's pads.

Fweeeeeet! A referee spotting offsides.

Hear that?

To some, these are sacred sounds. They are sounds that were sorely missed last year when Roanoke lost its hockey team.

But not to you. To you, they are merely hockey sounds. Not bad sounds, certainly, but not sounds you long for, either.

You are the casual fan. The average citizen. When hockey is hot in the Roanoke Valley, like it was in the mid-90s, you check it out at your convenience. When hockey is not hot, you typically stay away.

You are the target. You are the target of the Roanoke Valley Vipers ownership, which is trying -- and so far, failing -- to figure out the best way to lure you. You are the target of season ticket holders, who know they need you if their sport will survive in the valley. You are the target of the Roanoke Civic Center, which doesn't want to go back to soliciting a thousand monster truck rallies just to fill event dates.

You are the key to it all.

You are here on a Saturday night in December because there's no college football or NASCAR or must-see college hoops on television and, frankly, you needed something to do. The game is tight, you've got a hot dog and soda in hand, and with your eyes closed, you're beginning to remember that you kind of liked all these sounds.

But now open those eyes. Look around. Check out all those empty seats at the cavernous civic center. There are fewer than 1,400 of you here, and more than half are season ticket holders. You seem to recall the Express averaging nearly 3,000, even in the franchise's darkest times.

You are no business mogul, no sports marketing expert. But this much you know: Hockey's return to the valley is off to a rough start.

And you're not so sure you care.

Stakes are high

Maggie Drewry wants you to know how much she misses you. The 61-year-old hockey fan from Roanoke has her heart broken every time she looks around the arena at all the empty seats.

"I cannot tell you how devastating it is," Drewry said. "In fact, I called coach [Jim] Wiley after one of those dismal Wednesday night games and apologized. I said, 'I am so sorry that these players have to see this.' "

She does not blame you. She blames the ownership of the United Hockey League franchise, Ken and Kristen Dixon. She says the Ohio couple misunderstood how much effort it would take to get people like you into the building.

Drewry has done everything she could think of to help. She presented Kristen Dixon with a document outlining 13 specific moves that she thought would help boost attendance, from handing out bumper stickers to getting former Express players involved to using price strategies to attract children.

"And I'll tell you exactly what she did with it once I walked out of the office." Drewry said. "She put it in the trash can. I know she did, because not one thing on there has been done."

Drewry, a legal assistant, bought two season tickets this year even though she lives alone and sometimes doesn't fill the extra seat. It's part of the way she supports the franchise, and she's been doing it for years. She bought three season tickets for the final few years of the Express, but the increase in ticket prices this year forced her to cut back.

She thinks the price increase has something to do with Roanoke's 1,516 attendance average, lowest in the UHL. Maybe it has something to do with why you don't come. If that's the case, she said, it wouldn't bother her one bit if the owners slashed prices for everybody else and kept hers where they are.

Drewry remains optimistic that the attendance will turn around, but she knows the stakes are high for the area's hockey fans.

"This is going to be the nail in the coffin for hockey in Roanoke if it doesn't work this time," she said. "Because if this doesn't make it, I don't see it ever coming back."

Product loyalty

Jamie Hodson would like to see you more often, but he understands. The 25-year-old Vipers goaltender has been around. He knows minor league hockey can be a tough sell, and not just in Roanoke.

"In Greensboro [N.C.] we struggled for fans too, and we had good teams," Hodson said. "Forty wins each season, and we still had to fight to get four or five thousand fans in a rink.

"So we sure hope there's going to be more fans here, but at the same time, we're not blaming them right now, because we need to show them why they need to be here."

He's talking primarily about the team's record. Heading into Wednesday's game at Danbury, Conn., the Vipers (7-10) were in the midst of a seven-game losing streak. Hodson thinks winning is the first step toward bringing you here regularly.

But he knows there are other steps. He knows the team needs to make itself more visible in the community, something that took awhile to get going because of the team's hasty formation.

But it's getting better. Hodson works with teenagers on Monday nights at the YMCA. Some of his teammates have visited senior citizens homes. Others have spoken at school assemblies, something Hodson is scheduled to do in the coming weeks.

"If we start winning here and start carrying our load off the ice," he said, "things will come together."

Goals re-evaluated

Ken Dixon wants you to know he is trying. If you have suggestions on how to get you to come, he's all ears. Just send him an e-mail. He'll respond.

If you want to talk to him in person, though, that might be a problem. He lives in Canton, Ohio, and he runs his telecommunications business there while operating the Vipers by phone and through his wife's visits to Roanoke. He thinks the front-office staff in town -- with whom he is in constant telephone contact -- is more than capable of running the team well.

That said, there had to be changes. An experimental front-office structure, where each person was in charge of a specific aspect of the business, was scrapped last week. Dixon promoted Tim Callahan to general manager, hoping to establish a clear leader for day-to-day operations.

Every goal the Dixons set coming in here has been re-evaluated. He wanted 1,200-1,500 season tickets sold this season; the Vipers have sold fewer than 800. He wanted to average at least 3,700 a night; the Vipers, though still not in the prime of hockey season, have fallen incredibly short. He wanted to draw at least as well as the Express did in its final season; the Vipers are doing much worse.

"To say I'm disappointed is an understatement," Dixon said.

But he is not a quitter -- especially not when he has a three-year lease with the Civic Center. He said he is spending $11,000 a month on newspaper, radio and television advertising and will continue to develop new marketing strategies.

He thinks the ticket prices -- $8 to $22.50, including the $2 facilities surcharge -- are reasonable. He's not opposed to holding a "Pack the House" night, but he is wary of lowering prices too much and "devaluing the product."

"I don't know how much lower you could possibly go and still expect to feed the animal here," Dixon said. "Because we don't have affiliates with the NHL to pay our bills or our players' salaries. It's Ken and Kristen that do this, and we rely on the gate and our corporate sponsors and the town. Hopefully they want to enjoy hockey and support the team."

Despite the early signs, he is confident that people like you eventually will come back. It's just a matter of hitting on the right marketing strategy, and so far it hasn't happened.

Example: Last week, two Vipers employees were sent to a school function. They handed out 500 vouchers to children. Each voucher was good for one free child ticket at the game last Friday or Saturday, provided the child was with a paying adult.

Only nine vouchers were used.

"I can tell you that 90 percent of the people who continue to come buy tickets are the same people over and over again," Dixon said. "So it's a frustrating thing. We're working hard. We're visiting every business in town we can. We're doing as many public appearances as we can. We've made quite a few player appearances, and we're upping that.

"It's an ongoing battle, and we're willing to fight it."

The beat goes on

You're a little weary now. Sure, you're flattered by all these pleas for your presence, but you don't really care how the sausage is made. You just came to see a hockey game.

The Vipers lose 4-3 in a shootout against the league's last-place team. Down in the office, coach Wiley talks to a reporter about the team's struggles. Outside the locker room, Hodson answers a different reporter's questions about the crowd.

You leave the arena quietly and head back to your home, back to your normal life.

Better remember those sounds, you think. There's really no telling the next time you'll be back...