Why are so many former targets working as talking heads on hockey broadcasts? I'm a former, not nearly as accomplished, target. We know bugger all about forwards, defencemen, systems, shooting or coaching strategies. The only thing we're good at is explaining why a goal wasn't our fault. Maybe that's it. Former goalies explain the play from a fairly lay perspective. This is also why they are terrible colour analysts. There isn't any analysis. They just repeat what the play-by-play guy said in a different way. It's fucking distracting. Most broadcast teams have a play-by-play person and de facto play-by-play person who won't shut up and let the game breathe. And old timey goalies don't keep up on contemporary goaltending technique, like the importance of post play. Goaltending techniques are significantly advanced from the days when goalies only needed two things: courage, and a good pain tolerance. Read a little InGoal magazine and add something of interest to the broadcast. (To be fair, McLennan and Biron are pretty good on panels. Otherwise, not a great group of broadcasters).
I don't watch Niemi that closely. But he loses his net a lot. He was at least six inches too far to his left on Toffoli's goal. Maybe he was having a bad night (obviously), but these aren't mistakes I see often from NHL starters. Suddenly the Kings look like the team everyone feared to face in the first round. Can they make the full 0-3 comeback? I doubt it. But the Sharks must feel a little historical weight pressing on them now.
Ridiculous pass from MacKinnon on the Av's tying goal. Prepare yourselves for hyperbole about the lad for a couple more days. Although that pass was insane. No exaggeration needed.
It was strange how Gustavsson's pad rolled on Lucic's goal. I don't know if that was a small equipment malfunction, or if his pads are laced in an unorthodox way. It is really difficult to make a modern pad behave like that. They are designed to automatically roll to an edge and give a proper butterfly position. Thankfully the Red Wings are gone. No more talk of the genius of their coach, or organizational structure. These things are true but I get tired of the same stories over and over. I get that the media needs to tell similar stories, because language is too complex to understand without pre-determined frames. But do we have to tell the 'same' stories? It's getting to the point of fucking cliche.
The Pens looked good. So did Fleury. I hope he has a nice run. We love the stories of redemption too. I think the hockey world would embrace a story of fighting to overcome these early mistakes. Although that team still panics around their net. I don't know if it is a nervousness that starts from Fleury, but they lose all their defensive assignments when there is a loose puck. That can't happen if you expect to win the Cup again.
We're marching towards the second round, when things become more pressurized and less interesting. I don't know if it is the rush of so many games that makes the first round the best. I don't know if it is the stark difference in intensity that we are used to by round two. I just know the first round is the best two weeks in sports for me.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Quick Stanley Cup Playoff Thoughts: Day 10
Toews: still dangerous on a breakaway.
Miller: still loves to lose in overtime to Canadians. (Note: I'm the 3412th person to make this joke, or some version).
Mason is better than Emery. This should not be news to anyone.
Teemu brings the good karma, if not any offensive output.
Philly is bipolar. Maybe not totally, but at least bipolar 2.
People seem to like the Stars. I have no idea why.
Justin Bourne was tweeting about compiling a "Total Asshole But Great at Hockey" Hall of Fame. This is a good idea. Although, it should be called "The Magnificent Bastard" Hall of Fame and Gordie Howe should be the inaugural inductee. (Note: this is for on-ice asshattery only).
Even quicker, and later, post this time. Will do better tomorrow...er...today. (He says into a near total vacuum--Helloooo, helloooo).
Miller: still loves to lose in overtime to Canadians. (Note: I'm the 3412th person to make this joke, or some version).
Mason is better than Emery. This should not be news to anyone.
Teemu brings the good karma, if not any offensive output.
Philly is bipolar. Maybe not totally, but at least bipolar 2.
People seem to like the Stars. I have no idea why.
Justin Bourne was tweeting about compiling a "Total Asshole But Great at Hockey" Hall of Fame. This is a good idea. Although, it should be called "The Magnificent Bastard" Hall of Fame and Gordie Howe should be the inaugural inductee. (Note: this is for on-ice asshattery only).
Even quicker, and later, post this time. Will do better tomorrow...er...today. (He says into a near total vacuum--Helloooo, helloooo).
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Bad Poetry Thursday: "Never Behind in Smoke"
I struggle with the persistent whispering
that I am just here to watch, like I always have.
Will the fulfillment of youthful promises,
born from optimism and ignorance keep me warm
without the skin smell like summer wind
of my lover in my arms, in our bed.
The world of my youth grows
hazy to match the world of now, because:
hazy to match the world of now, because:
Never behind in smoke, I let dreams cascade like electric poison.
The tips of needles against my brain pan assures me I'm alive,
the blood droplets from the needles remind me
I have a heart to bleed, and dreams to seed
and nowhere / no one to urge my needs.
The points against my brain pan needle me alive,
bloody platelets of DNA track my heartfelt folly
and the dreams I seed run nowhere.
There is no one here but my urgent need to death.
The night grows old, my back curves towards the keyboard,
The night grows old, my back curves towards the keyboard,
my eyes toward the screen.
If I get close enough will I see you on the other side,
there to make my path less lonely,
there to make my path less lonely,
bare the brunt of the chip on my shoulder
for a little bit like you have so often.
for a little bit like you have so often.
No, I suppose it is the weight
of my own ego dropping on me,
of my own ego dropping on me,
reflecting itself in secret in the artificial glow
I pretend I did not create in you.
My mind races, inevitably towards
its own understandable and undeniable end,
its own understandable and undeniable end,
and I walk slowly behind
picking up the fragments of the life I am living
on the wisps of gasoline
and artificial flowers.
In the end I remember what I said before,
In the end I remember what I said before,
nothing of importance
and
nothing of substance.
nothing of substance.
I am the keeper of a lonely dreamscape
who will never
appreciate the touch of life I've had.
Quick Stanley Cup Playoff Thoughts: Day 9
Tip the slow wrist shot from point wide of the net and bounce it off an unsuspecting Red Wings defenceman--classic Iggy. Okay, no. But a goal. Huzzah. And one game closer to taking out the goodie two-shoe team from Detroit.
I think it was nice of San Jose to give a return blowout as a gift, and moral victory, to the LA Kings. I guess professional hockey players, many of whom are Stanley Cup winners, don't like to be embarrassed too many games in a row. LA won't come back, but I'm glad to see a spark of life from them. And, it was nice to see a spark of life from that incredible waste of world-class talent Gaborik.
I guess MacKinnon can be stopped again. Twelve shots. That is embarrassing. I can't wait for all the wannabe stats people to talk about regression and how they saw this coming. Perhaps take one course in statistics and learn about sample size and the numbers it takes to predict things before you claim you saw this coming.
I think I'm done with the first round. The teams I'm, sort of, pulling for are on the brink of going through. The exciting and close series I don't care about. I'll still watch and still come up with inane commentary but let's get on with this.
I think it was nice of San Jose to give a return blowout as a gift, and moral victory, to the LA Kings. I guess professional hockey players, many of whom are Stanley Cup winners, don't like to be embarrassed too many games in a row. LA won't come back, but I'm glad to see a spark of life from them. And, it was nice to see a spark of life from that incredible waste of world-class talent Gaborik.
I guess MacKinnon can be stopped again. Twelve shots. That is embarrassing. I can't wait for all the wannabe stats people to talk about regression and how they saw this coming. Perhaps take one course in statistics and learn about sample size and the numbers it takes to predict things before you claim you saw this coming.
I think I'm done with the first round. The teams I'm, sort of, pulling for are on the brink of going through. The exciting and close series I don't care about. I'll still watch and still come up with inane commentary but let's get on with this.
Quick Stanley Cup Playoff Thoughts: Day 8
Is it bad hockey karma to bench Teemu during his last Stanley Cup run? Who knows. It's hard to track the effectiveness of the absurd. It did not, however, seem to help. And it isn't helping Gabby look like a better playoff coach.
Speaking of easy media narratives, that may or may not be true, how about that Fleury kid. It's too bad. He seems like a good guy, with all the physical tools, who is beloved by teammates and picks the absolute worst moments to commit major gaffes. Every goalie does this. We all remember Patrick Roy's, "look at me" moment when he dropped the puck on a save while showing off. That didn't effect Roy's legacy. But Fleury had this story primed for us coming into the league. He misplayed the puck in the World Junior Championships and gave Russia the Gold. (I think it was Russia, might have been the U.S.). That type of priming matters in the media. There are only a certain amount of acceptable story lines at any time. Right now, the good goalie who can't take the pressure is a well-established and easy yarn to spin. I think he gets one more chance, with a short leash and instructions to stay in the net.
Blues / Blackhawks is a pretty great series. I can't love it. I can't muster an emotional attachment to either side. I do appreciate it. It has most of the things I love in hockey. It rides the edge of disaster and injurious play--with one notable jump over the line. It has great systems and the skill and will to exploit the inevitable gaps in those systems. It has, at times, great goaltending. And it has players emerging as playoff warriors that are too often dismissed as interchangeable role players--Bickell take a step forward and wave to the crowd.
I've been right about one goaltending prediction. I said we'd see Hiller in this series. I don't know if he'll get the next start but he is only a symptom of a bigger problem. Anaheim's defencemen are not great. And their team defence can't make up for this. They aren't Pittsburgh bad at defence, but they rely on great forwards. When those forwards start getting injured they are in huge trouble.
And apparently Sid has lost 5 to 7 km/h of top speed. That ain't good. He relies on hustle and outside drives to the net. If he can't go at top speed, he is too small to protect the puck as well and becomes less of a threat. Granted, being the best forward in the world means you can be less of a threat and still a considerable asset. But the Pens are looking sunk. Once my other goaltending prediction comes true and we see Vokoun in the net maybe the Pens will settle down. Or, maybe they'll get bounced and we'll see another year of Crosby and Malkin's primes wasted by poor coaching, unfortunate goaltending and a cap system that causes all organizations to regress to the mean.
Speaking of easy media narratives, that may or may not be true, how about that Fleury kid. It's too bad. He seems like a good guy, with all the physical tools, who is beloved by teammates and picks the absolute worst moments to commit major gaffes. Every goalie does this. We all remember Patrick Roy's, "look at me" moment when he dropped the puck on a save while showing off. That didn't effect Roy's legacy. But Fleury had this story primed for us coming into the league. He misplayed the puck in the World Junior Championships and gave Russia the Gold. (I think it was Russia, might have been the U.S.). That type of priming matters in the media. There are only a certain amount of acceptable story lines at any time. Right now, the good goalie who can't take the pressure is a well-established and easy yarn to spin. I think he gets one more chance, with a short leash and instructions to stay in the net.
Blues / Blackhawks is a pretty great series. I can't love it. I can't muster an emotional attachment to either side. I do appreciate it. It has most of the things I love in hockey. It rides the edge of disaster and injurious play--with one notable jump over the line. It has great systems and the skill and will to exploit the inevitable gaps in those systems. It has, at times, great goaltending. And it has players emerging as playoff warriors that are too often dismissed as interchangeable role players--Bickell take a step forward and wave to the crowd.
I've been right about one goaltending prediction. I said we'd see Hiller in this series. I don't know if he'll get the next start but he is only a symptom of a bigger problem. Anaheim's defencemen are not great. And their team defence can't make up for this. They aren't Pittsburgh bad at defence, but they rely on great forwards. When those forwards start getting injured they are in huge trouble.
And apparently Sid has lost 5 to 7 km/h of top speed. That ain't good. He relies on hustle and outside drives to the net. If he can't go at top speed, he is too small to protect the puck as well and becomes less of a threat. Granted, being the best forward in the world means you can be less of a threat and still a considerable asset. But the Pens are looking sunk. Once my other goaltending prediction comes true and we see Vokoun in the net maybe the Pens will settle down. Or, maybe they'll get bounced and we'll see another year of Crosby and Malkin's primes wasted by poor coaching, unfortunate goaltending and a cap system that causes all organizations to regress to the mean.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Quick Stanley Cup Playoff Thoughts: Day 7
San Jose are actual Cup contenders. Actually, read that with a sharp rise in intonation at the end, as if it were a question: "San Jose are actual Cup contenders"? This goes against all truth in hockey. Then again, I'm sure they've looked good in round one before. Maybe we're collectively overestimating the Kings. It wouldn't be the first time a Cup winner, or contender, was given the benefit of the doubt years after their successes. (Hello beloved, and hated, Vancouver Canucks). If the Sharks can do it, let it be a Sharks / Bruins final. Either Joe or Iggy will win a Cup. I'm okay with both possibilities.
Speaking of Iggy, Boston wins again. I don't particularly like Boston but, as I said before, I loathe Detroit. I'll be happy when they're gone. Tuukka Rask is playing great. Chara is a creature of fairy tale lore. I mean O.G. (Original Grimm) fairy tales, not Disney. Lucic is a maniac and must be a nightmare to play against. It must be easier, at least a little, if the rats are like Lapierre or Marchand. In theory, you can pummel them if they stick you one too many times. There aren't a lot of guys that want to fight Milan. Plus, Chara is around to trample villagers and eat all your cattle and sheep if you try.
A couple media people were asking where Gustav Nyquist is? He's exactly the same place Zetterberg and Datsyuk were for their first few playoff appearances--the corner of overwhelmed and under-performing. Most players have trouble understanding the extra effort it takes to excel in the playoffs. (I say, as if I have a fucking clue). Even the all-time great teams usually fail on their first trip up the mountain. As the media loves to remind us, the Stanley Cup playoffs are really fucking hard.
The Rangers are looking good. If only Vancouver could get a coach with Vigneault's......oh, right. (Okay, that's enough whining about my godforsaken team). Philly needs Mason back, or a cure for brain damage and a refreshed Chris Pronger. Ray Emery isn't taking this porous defence too far. I'm not sure Mason is either. I miss Pronger. With all due respect to Lidstrom, he may have been the best defenceman of his generation.
Montreal sweeps. I think we all saw this coming. Maybe not all of us. Maybe no one. I wish they had put in the Latvian kid earlier. He might be something special. Or, he might be a decent backup with one legendary Olympics to tell his grandkids about. Either way, I love Latvian goalies, be they tiny like Irbe or large like Gudlevskis.
Random, and unrelated thought: Driftwood Brewery in Victoria, British Columbia is absolutely fantastic. If you ever find yourself in Vic you should go there.
Speaking of Iggy, Boston wins again. I don't particularly like Boston but, as I said before, I loathe Detroit. I'll be happy when they're gone. Tuukka Rask is playing great. Chara is a creature of fairy tale lore. I mean O.G. (Original Grimm) fairy tales, not Disney. Lucic is a maniac and must be a nightmare to play against. It must be easier, at least a little, if the rats are like Lapierre or Marchand. In theory, you can pummel them if they stick you one too many times. There aren't a lot of guys that want to fight Milan. Plus, Chara is around to trample villagers and eat all your cattle and sheep if you try.
A couple media people were asking where Gustav Nyquist is? He's exactly the same place Zetterberg and Datsyuk were for their first few playoff appearances--the corner of overwhelmed and under-performing. Most players have trouble understanding the extra effort it takes to excel in the playoffs. (I say, as if I have a fucking clue). Even the all-time great teams usually fail on their first trip up the mountain. As the media loves to remind us, the Stanley Cup playoffs are really fucking hard.
The Rangers are looking good. If only Vancouver could get a coach with Vigneault's......oh, right. (Okay, that's enough whining about my godforsaken team). Philly needs Mason back, or a cure for brain damage and a refreshed Chris Pronger. Ray Emery isn't taking this porous defence too far. I'm not sure Mason is either. I miss Pronger. With all due respect to Lidstrom, he may have been the best defenceman of his generation.
Montreal sweeps. I think we all saw this coming. Maybe not all of us. Maybe no one. I wish they had put in the Latvian kid earlier. He might be something special. Or, he might be a decent backup with one legendary Olympics to tell his grandkids about. Either way, I love Latvian goalies, be they tiny like Irbe or large like Gudlevskis.
Random, and unrelated thought: Driftwood Brewery in Victoria, British Columbia is absolutely fantastic. If you ever find yourself in Vic you should go there.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Quick Stanley Cup Playoff Thoughts: Day 6
Pittsburgh--still bad at defence, still good at offence.
Can anyone stop MacKinnon!?! Can anyone stop this arcade-mode 18 year old superstar!!!! Yes, apparently they can. I'm not taking a piss. He's been unbelievable. I just enjoy the inevitable response by the reactionary forces of the sporting world when too much of the media tells the same story. I'm sure this is all confirmation bias, but there seems a direct correlation between something's media coverage tipping point and the inevitable and quick end of that thing. I'm reminded of the all the talk about Peyton Manning's legacy and the overwhelming notion that he was about to prove he was the greatest quarterback of all time. The media couldn't get enough. And then he flopped. It seems to happen all the time. That's the evil genius of confirmation bias, and why things like stats and analytics matter. Since I don't do this for a living, or care enough to do statistical analysis of something so trivial, I'm going to enjoy my biases.
Wow, Minny won a game. I guess I'll take back my suggestions that Bryz is the current day Patrick Lalime, or Dan Cloutier. I'm sorry, Darcy who? Never mind.
Chicago and St. Louis continue to soften each other up for their next opponent. Good. I like the NHL better when St. Louis is a consistent disappointment and Chicago doesn't win.
Cookie. Oh Matty, why? I'm sure it was a flash decision to get any piece of someone you can, as they skate by. But you are going away for a long time. Image rehab starts next fall, again.
Anaheim, that's what happens when you don't try and Dallas does. Plus Lehtonen was great. If that guy could stay healthy, eh? Let's try and show up next time Anaheim. Do it for number 8. I don't want you to win the Cup. I'd like to see Iggy get his. But Teemu deserves more than a first round exit from a bunch of kids in Texas.
Can anyone stop MacKinnon!?! Can anyone stop this arcade-mode 18 year old superstar!!!! Yes, apparently they can. I'm not taking a piss. He's been unbelievable. I just enjoy the inevitable response by the reactionary forces of the sporting world when too much of the media tells the same story. I'm sure this is all confirmation bias, but there seems a direct correlation between something's media coverage tipping point and the inevitable and quick end of that thing. I'm reminded of the all the talk about Peyton Manning's legacy and the overwhelming notion that he was about to prove he was the greatest quarterback of all time. The media couldn't get enough. And then he flopped. It seems to happen all the time. That's the evil genius of confirmation bias, and why things like stats and analytics matter. Since I don't do this for a living, or care enough to do statistical analysis of something so trivial, I'm going to enjoy my biases.
Wow, Minny won a game. I guess I'll take back my suggestions that Bryz is the current day Patrick Lalime, or Dan Cloutier. I'm sorry, Darcy who? Never mind.
Chicago and St. Louis continue to soften each other up for their next opponent. Good. I like the NHL better when St. Louis is a consistent disappointment and Chicago doesn't win.
Cookie. Oh Matty, why? I'm sure it was a flash decision to get any piece of someone you can, as they skate by. But you are going away for a long time. Image rehab starts next fall, again.
Anaheim, that's what happens when you don't try and Dallas does. Plus Lehtonen was great. If that guy could stay healthy, eh? Let's try and show up next time Anaheim. Do it for number 8. I don't want you to win the Cup. I'd like to see Iggy get his. But Teemu deserves more than a first round exit from a bunch of kids in Texas.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Quick Stanley Cup Playoff Thoughts: Day 5
Yes. It was the right call. It may be a stupid rule. The rule's phrasing may change the spirit of the thing. It can be argued in common-sense terms, or in terms of 'what is right' that it should have counted. It can't be argued that the wrong call was made, according to the rule as written. Let's move on.
I guess Stamkos's brain damaged head isn't as good at hockey as Kariya's brain damaged head. Luckily Steven is young and will have more opportunity to damage his noodle and play immediately after. Are we actually surprised that a bunch of kids ignore advice and don't think in terms of safety and the long term effects that concussions can have? If they listened to odds they would be bankers and lawyers and home town rec league hockey heroes. (I know. I know. It's the teams job to step in. That's definitely not going to happen).
P.J. Stock has all the intelligence and class of Don Cherry's HNIC persona, without the underlying actual intelligence, charisma or knowledge of the game.
I knew San Jose couldn't score at will on LA twice in the same series.....oops. It's hard to imagine the Kings can come back from this. Of course, I think that every time a team wins the first two games. They routinely come back from two down to win the series. And the score of a game isn't that indicative of the future. The difference between a 3-2 game and a 7-2 game isn't as great as you'd think. But it sure feels different. Usually, it's luck, bad bounces and a confluence of events. Sometimes it's a sign of dominance. Often, it's the sign of physics conspiring to bounce the puck the wrong way a few extra times.
Boston--that's better. And, go Iggy!
Philly and Rangers. Hard to care. Neither team gets past the second round.
I guess Stamkos's brain damaged head isn't as good at hockey as Kariya's brain damaged head. Luckily Steven is young and will have more opportunity to damage his noodle and play immediately after. Are we actually surprised that a bunch of kids ignore advice and don't think in terms of safety and the long term effects that concussions can have? If they listened to odds they would be bankers and lawyers and home town rec league hockey heroes. (I know. I know. It's the teams job to step in. That's definitely not going to happen).
P.J. Stock has all the intelligence and class of Don Cherry's HNIC persona, without the underlying actual intelligence, charisma or knowledge of the game.
I knew San Jose couldn't score at will on LA twice in the same series.....oops. It's hard to imagine the Kings can come back from this. Of course, I think that every time a team wins the first two games. They routinely come back from two down to win the series. And the score of a game isn't that indicative of the future. The difference between a 3-2 game and a 7-2 game isn't as great as you'd think. But it sure feels different. Usually, it's luck, bad bounces and a confluence of events. Sometimes it's a sign of dominance. Often, it's the sign of physics conspiring to bounce the puck the wrong way a few extra times.
Boston--that's better. And, go Iggy!
Philly and Rangers. Hard to care. Neither team gets past the second round.
Quick Stanley Cup Playoff Thoughts: Day 4
I love everything about early starts on a Saturday. I love watching several games of hockey, starting at noon and being done with enough time to enjoy the evening. It's the opposite of living in Ottawa as a Canucks' fan the year they played Dallas and most games went deep into overtime and into the wee hours of the morning. I don't miss that. I love these early games. Unfortunately, I love them more in theory now. Being a modern, paranoid and first-time parent I'm not letting my kids watch t.v. until they are at least two. I'm about ninety percent certain it will make no difference, but I read something somewhere that said it was bad and it felt right. Plus, t.v. during the day is kind of terrible. Although we do sneak an occasional peak at the scores and few seconds of play.
Chicago: two tough losses and getting cheap and vicious. Luckily no one on the team will fight, because we'd hate to have violence in hockey.
St. Louis: two great wins and it seems lucky, not destined. If I was a fan, maybe I'd be getting excited. I don't think this is the start of their fairy tale. Can Miller win overtime after overtime on the way to a Cup and Conn Smythe? No. He might take out Chicago, before a hobbled Blues teams loses in the second round.
Minny: Bryz, out. He's looking more and more like Patrick Lalime, or Dan Cloutier. (Which is unfair, and neither are as bad as remembered. But, it's the story that will be told).
Colarado: It's going to be hard to get MacKinnon in the middle rounds of my fantasy draft next year. I thought this team was poised for a second round sweep. Maybe not. Although, I can't imagine them going deep. (Stellar analysis so far, eh? I did say these were quick thoughts).
The Pens: Pittsburgh needs to retool their team. They remind me of a minor hockey team with a couple of superstars and a bunch of below-average players. They seem great, because you focus on the stars. Then they lose tournament after tournament because 4 okay lines beats 1 great and 3 sub-par lines most days.
Lumbus: I don't know why rooting for CBJ is a thing, but GO BLUE JACKETS.......I guess. The only thing that strikes me as interesting about CBJ is watching another Vancouver Canuck prospect cast-off, R.J. Umberger, put in workmanlike and effective minutes for them. Vancouver does not draft well enough to give up on so many tops picks. (Michael Grabner, how are you? Bryan Allen, looking good with the Ducks). Ugh. The Canucks stink.
Chicago: two tough losses and getting cheap and vicious. Luckily no one on the team will fight, because we'd hate to have violence in hockey.
St. Louis: two great wins and it seems lucky, not destined. If I was a fan, maybe I'd be getting excited. I don't think this is the start of their fairy tale. Can Miller win overtime after overtime on the way to a Cup and Conn Smythe? No. He might take out Chicago, before a hobbled Blues teams loses in the second round.
Minny: Bryz, out. He's looking more and more like Patrick Lalime, or Dan Cloutier. (Which is unfair, and neither are as bad as remembered. But, it's the story that will be told).
Colarado: It's going to be hard to get MacKinnon in the middle rounds of my fantasy draft next year. I thought this team was poised for a second round sweep. Maybe not. Although, I can't imagine them going deep. (Stellar analysis so far, eh? I did say these were quick thoughts).
The Pens: Pittsburgh needs to retool their team. They remind me of a minor hockey team with a couple of superstars and a bunch of below-average players. They seem great, because you focus on the stars. Then they lose tournament after tournament because 4 okay lines beats 1 great and 3 sub-par lines most days.
Lumbus: I don't know why rooting for CBJ is a thing, but GO BLUE JACKETS.......I guess. The only thing that strikes me as interesting about CBJ is watching another Vancouver Canuck prospect cast-off, R.J. Umberger, put in workmanlike and effective minutes for them. Vancouver does not draft well enough to give up on so many tops picks. (Michael Grabner, how are you? Bryan Allen, looking good with the Ducks). Ugh. The Canucks stink.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Quick Stanley Cup Playoff thoughts: Day 3
I don't have the energy to give a fuck about the Dallas Stars. I've never had the energy. I didn't care when they won the Cup. I didn't care when they were the North Stars. I don't give a fuck about Mike Modano, or Brett Hull. I just can't care. I'm glad they'll be gone soon. Although, I'll always fondly remember the frequency with which Jon Casey tried to poke check players, and miss. No goalie has ever been so happy to try something he was so bad at. (Hasek handling the puck doesn't count, because he was just bored and crazy).
Montreal, as I've heard once or twice, is Canada's only remaining team. Talk about not giving a fuck. My team is out--as in, never made it. I don't have a backup team. I sometimes cheer a Canadian team when my team is done. But not always. It's not a rule. I cheered for Calgary and Edmonton when they made their runs. I did not cheer for Ottawa during theirs. And I've lived in that city. I cheer for players, once my collection of laundry is put away for the year. This year I might cheer for Boston. (Good luck winning now that you have a little Canuck's lifer stink on the bandwagon).
Lucic loves to stick guys in the nuts. I don't have a massive problem with this. It's dirty and hurts, but the pain goes away quick. You can't really wind up and swing at a dude's package. It mostly hurts the ego.....and the testicles. I'd rather see a nut shot than a slash to an exposed wrist. Those slashes routinely take out players. I've only ever known a slap shot to the family jewels to be an issue. Still, idiot move. Lucic may not be amongst the great minds of his generation.
That said, I loathe Detroit. Yes, they're good. Yes, they 'do it the right way'. Yes, it's a shame Babcock hasn't won a Jack Adams. Yes, yes, yes. I hate the media's gushing, orgasmic love for anything Detroit. I also hate the whitewashing of their history. No, they don't have any tough guys right now. But McCarthy, Probert, Kocur, and perhaps the greatest Wing of all-time and one of the dirtiest players of his era Mr. Hockey. Why is Detroit good, always? They draft great. That's it. That's the whole story. Personal pet peeve, not important but fuck you Detroit. Actually, fuck you lazy media narratives about Detroit. Motor City, we're good.
Tampa's back end is too big--make jokes here.
Corey Perry is, in the tradition of Chris Pronger, a magnificent bastard.
Montreal, as I've heard once or twice, is Canada's only remaining team. Talk about not giving a fuck. My team is out--as in, never made it. I don't have a backup team. I sometimes cheer a Canadian team when my team is done. But not always. It's not a rule. I cheered for Calgary and Edmonton when they made their runs. I did not cheer for Ottawa during theirs. And I've lived in that city. I cheer for players, once my collection of laundry is put away for the year. This year I might cheer for Boston. (Good luck winning now that you have a little Canuck's lifer stink on the bandwagon).
Lucic loves to stick guys in the nuts. I don't have a massive problem with this. It's dirty and hurts, but the pain goes away quick. You can't really wind up and swing at a dude's package. It mostly hurts the ego.....and the testicles. I'd rather see a nut shot than a slash to an exposed wrist. Those slashes routinely take out players. I've only ever known a slap shot to the family jewels to be an issue. Still, idiot move. Lucic may not be amongst the great minds of his generation.
That said, I loathe Detroit. Yes, they're good. Yes, they 'do it the right way'. Yes, it's a shame Babcock hasn't won a Jack Adams. Yes, yes, yes. I hate the media's gushing, orgasmic love for anything Detroit. I also hate the whitewashing of their history. No, they don't have any tough guys right now. But McCarthy, Probert, Kocur, and perhaps the greatest Wing of all-time and one of the dirtiest players of his era Mr. Hockey. Why is Detroit good, always? They draft great. That's it. That's the whole story. Personal pet peeve, not important but fuck you Detroit. Actually, fuck you lazy media narratives about Detroit. Motor City, we're good.
Tampa's back end is too big--make jokes here.
Corey Perry is, in the tradition of Chris Pronger, a magnificent bastard.
Quick Stanley Cup playoff thoughts: Day 2
Speaking of Quick, yikes. Although, the chances San Jose repeats those perfect plays and this kind of blowout are small. Maybe Quick's D-men will try and cut off a pass or two next game.
It is nice to see some scoring. I'm not against low scoring games. It's just nice to see ample scoring chances. I'm still shocked that St. Louis and Chicago went so deep into overtime. That was not a locked down defensive battle. Isn't 'locked down' a great way to sound like you are saying something of substance, when you are really engaging in the laziest of hockey clichés?
How are Minnesota or Colorado supposed to compete with San Jose / LA / Chicago / St. Louis? Flipping back and forth between games was a preview of a second round sweep. (Note: I'll definitely be wrong on this. But it felt that way).
Bryzgalov finds a way to lose in the playoffs again. That's massively unfair, but still true. It wasn't his fault, but it must become a tangible burden eventually--even for spaceman Bryz.
Why haven't the Bruins / Wings played yet? I might have to adopt the B's for this Cup run. This hurts, being a Canucks fan, but GO IGGY!!!!
Is Brad Richards the modern day Luc Robitaille? Most of his skill set is pretty mediocre, except for the part where he scores lots and lots of goals. (Luc, you are welcome for implying your skating was as good as 'mediocre').
How did a team under Coach V give up so few shots?
The Stanley Cup playoffs have two--count them, one, two---players from Port McNeill. Willie Mitchell and Clayton Stoner are from this northern Vancouver Island town of 2500 people. This isn't that remarkable I guess, just a shout-out to my old hood.
It is nice to see some scoring. I'm not against low scoring games. It's just nice to see ample scoring chances. I'm still shocked that St. Louis and Chicago went so deep into overtime. That was not a locked down defensive battle. Isn't 'locked down' a great way to sound like you are saying something of substance, when you are really engaging in the laziest of hockey clichés?
How are Minnesota or Colorado supposed to compete with San Jose / LA / Chicago / St. Louis? Flipping back and forth between games was a preview of a second round sweep. (Note: I'll definitely be wrong on this. But it felt that way).
Bryzgalov finds a way to lose in the playoffs again. That's massively unfair, but still true. It wasn't his fault, but it must become a tangible burden eventually--even for spaceman Bryz.
Why haven't the Bruins / Wings played yet? I might have to adopt the B's for this Cup run. This hurts, being a Canucks fan, but GO IGGY!!!!
Is Brad Richards the modern day Luc Robitaille? Most of his skill set is pretty mediocre, except for the part where he scores lots and lots of goals. (Luc, you are welcome for implying your skating was as good as 'mediocre').
How did a team under Coach V give up so few shots?
The Stanley Cup playoffs have two--count them, one, two---players from Port McNeill. Willie Mitchell and Clayton Stoner are from this northern Vancouver Island town of 2500 people. This isn't that remarkable I guess, just a shout-out to my old hood.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Initial thoughts on the 2014 NHL playoffs
I fucking love the, more properly named, Stanley Cup playoffs.
I don't know of another sport that elevates the game so distinctly for the playoffs. Every year, like daylight savings, I find it shocking. It always surprises me. I don't have the time, or expertise, to write a long post but here are a few thoughts:
Cogliano has ridiculous wheels. No news here, but GD he's fast.
Getzlaf is tough. A few NHLers would still be down, after that shot to the face. Apparently Ryan had somewhere better to be. And I love that he wore a Roughriders shirt in warm up.
Marc-Andre Fleury still needs to settle down a bit in the net. It's not junior anymore. We need you to make all the saves, not just the highlight reel variety.
You can't hope to stop him, you can only contain Dale Weise (especially if you give him several wide-open shots from a dozen feet from your net).
I have never been more wrong than I was about Steven Stamkos. I saw him twice in junior and thought, "not that big a deal". I was DEAD FUCK WRONG.
Jonas Hiller will be in net during the first round.
So will Vokoun, probably.
Daniel Briere likes the playoffs still.
But not as much as me.
I don't know of another sport that elevates the game so distinctly for the playoffs. Every year, like daylight savings, I find it shocking. It always surprises me. I don't have the time, or expertise, to write a long post but here are a few thoughts:
Cogliano has ridiculous wheels. No news here, but GD he's fast.
Getzlaf is tough. A few NHLers would still be down, after that shot to the face. Apparently Ryan had somewhere better to be. And I love that he wore a Roughriders shirt in warm up.
Marc-Andre Fleury still needs to settle down a bit in the net. It's not junior anymore. We need you to make all the saves, not just the highlight reel variety.
You can't hope to stop him, you can only contain Dale Weise (especially if you give him several wide-open shots from a dozen feet from your net).
I have never been more wrong than I was about Steven Stamkos. I saw him twice in junior and thought, "not that big a deal". I was DEAD FUCK WRONG.
Jonas Hiller will be in net during the first round.
So will Vokoun, probably.
Daniel Briere likes the playoffs still.
But not as much as me.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Second annual maudlin goodbye to another Canucks' season and more of my youth
I don't remember my final game of competitive hockey.
I do remember sitting in my coach's carport, drunk and crying while a pot-bellied pig ate my vomit.
I think I played well. I do in my reconstructed memory.
It wasn't the end of my youth. I'd be an immature spaz for many more years. It marked the death of my singular childish dream. And like any self-respecting ghost, it haunts me still. Maybe that's why every year of hockey failure, now lived vicariously through the Canucks, means too much.
Or, maybe I'm still a bit of a spaz.
I didn't watch the Canucks a lot this year. That softened the blow of their futility. It stopped the inevitable fondness and love that comes from time and proximity. I still felt rage and sadness. The trade deadline brought anger and disbelief. I lived my vicarious life through highlights, sports shows, box scores and podcasts. I swam in the mediated vitriol of modern reactionary coverage.
It's not a great way to love.
Luckily, I'm a new Dad too. That balances my anger, sadness and impudent rage. My twins ended any dream, or hope, of being youthful. I don't mean that in a bad way. My boys are incredible ghostbusters. Hockey rarely haunts me now. I look forward to days when we can watch games together. I will saddle them with the burden of being a Canucks fan too. Their love for the game will be forged in a crucible of poor drafting, bad trades and unfulfilled legacies.
I've heard a parent is supposed to protect a child's heart. I guess that's true. I also need to ready them for a world that doesn't care like I do. I'll use hockey as practice for that sometimes cruel space. They will be elated, and hurt. They will feel ecstatic and depressed in the safe confines of our living room yelling at the t.v.
I hope they are haunted by childish memories of a Dad who chose to love them more than his ghostly memories and dreams.
I do remember sitting in my coach's carport, drunk and crying while a pot-bellied pig ate my vomit.
I think I played well. I do in my reconstructed memory.
It wasn't the end of my youth. I'd be an immature spaz for many more years. It marked the death of my singular childish dream. And like any self-respecting ghost, it haunts me still. Maybe that's why every year of hockey failure, now lived vicariously through the Canucks, means too much.
Or, maybe I'm still a bit of a spaz.
I didn't watch the Canucks a lot this year. That softened the blow of their futility. It stopped the inevitable fondness and love that comes from time and proximity. I still felt rage and sadness. The trade deadline brought anger and disbelief. I lived my vicarious life through highlights, sports shows, box scores and podcasts. I swam in the mediated vitriol of modern reactionary coverage.
It's not a great way to love.
Luckily, I'm a new Dad too. That balances my anger, sadness and impudent rage. My twins ended any dream, or hope, of being youthful. I don't mean that in a bad way. My boys are incredible ghostbusters. Hockey rarely haunts me now. I look forward to days when we can watch games together. I will saddle them with the burden of being a Canucks fan too. Their love for the game will be forged in a crucible of poor drafting, bad trades and unfulfilled legacies.
I've heard a parent is supposed to protect a child's heart. I guess that's true. I also need to ready them for a world that doesn't care like I do. I'll use hockey as practice for that sometimes cruel space. They will be elated, and hurt. They will feel ecstatic and depressed in the safe confines of our living room yelling at the t.v.
I hope they are haunted by childish memories of a Dad who chose to love them more than his ghostly memories and dreams.
(For my first annual
eulogy: http://vansunsportsblogs.com/2013/05/14/guest-post-the-canucks-lost-again-a-requiem-for-hockey-dreams/
)
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Happy Birthday Shawna: On love, loving and being loved.
Love is not simple.
I realize this idea runs counter to every romantic comedy ever produced. Love is not inevitable, nor obvious, nor easy.
I love you Shawna. It's the truest thing I know.
At some point, in the hubris of my youth, I convinced myself love must be easy. I thought love was the perfect match of two souls, or histories, or something. It isn't. Love is hard. Love is a choice. Love's decision infiltrates every part of our lives. To be charitable to my younger, idiot self, I wasn't totally wrong. Loving someone makes them part of the whole. I have friends I barely talk to, and never see, who I love dearly. And I don't just mean the memory of them. They are part of me. They always will be. Hell, I have a sister I never see, nor talk to. I still love her. I was right about love in many ways. But, like most childish notions my understanding was too simple.
Love isn't a static state.
You aren't simply 'in love' or 'not in love'. It is practice. It is a process. It's a fucking job. I mean that in the best way. It is the most fulfilling job you will ever have. Of course, those stakes mean it is the hardest job you can imagine. Love, real grownup love, is the thing history is built upon. It is the back story for legends and powerful men and women. But those stories are seldom told in popular culture. Real love stories are the unwritten wives, mothers, and fathers that allow heroes their journey. Real love is the foundation of social reality.
I'm not a great man, nor a legend. (No Fuck). But I see a shadow of those stories told in Shawna's work to love me every day. I'm not a fan of pretending people are perfect. I left black and white thinking in my twenties. I don't like making character into caricature. Shawna isn't perfect. I wouldn't even say she is perfect for me. That's just demonstrably unknowable. I haven't met anywhere close to the four, or so, billion women on the planet. (Not to mention the exceptionally pretty-as-a-girl, men out there---I'm looking your way Orlando Bloom).
But she is mine.
And no, I don't mean in some douche bag possessive way. She is a chosen part of who I am. I have become the person I am in relationship to her. Simply, without her I am not myself. I made that choice many years ago. Sometimes it was easy, sometimes it was hard. That pattern holds. But I never question my love. I work at it every day. Like most jobs, some days I work hard and some days I don't. But it is the act of putting in time and weaving together two lives that is the work of love.
That's how I know Shawna loves me, even when she is sad and not sure if she loves herself. As always, the feeling is not the important bit. Feeling in love is nice. It can be intoxicating. It can be maddening. But it's just a feeling. I've felt like killing people. The key is that I didn't. And the key to love is what we do. Shawna takes care of me, and our boys, every day. She wakes up tired. She feeds them, even after they've bitten her nipples and laughed. She changes them and keeps them clean while they wriggle and writhe and struggle to free themselves. It is hard and mostly unrewarding work. She does it for love. It usually doesn't feel like that. But it lets me go to work, write my dissertation and try and be the person I picture in my head.
That person, real and imagined, doesn't exist without Shawna's love. That person, without the acts of mundane passion and real life building, is only a shadow. I am only myself, past, present and future, in relationship to Shawna.
I chose her many years ago. I choose her again this day. I'll choose her once more tomorrow.
She is mine. I am hers. We are ours. I love you Shawna.
I realize this idea runs counter to every romantic comedy ever produced. Love is not inevitable, nor obvious, nor easy.
I love you Shawna. It's the truest thing I know.
At some point, in the hubris of my youth, I convinced myself love must be easy. I thought love was the perfect match of two souls, or histories, or something. It isn't. Love is hard. Love is a choice. Love's decision infiltrates every part of our lives. To be charitable to my younger, idiot self, I wasn't totally wrong. Loving someone makes them part of the whole. I have friends I barely talk to, and never see, who I love dearly. And I don't just mean the memory of them. They are part of me. They always will be. Hell, I have a sister I never see, nor talk to. I still love her. I was right about love in many ways. But, like most childish notions my understanding was too simple.
Love isn't a static state.
You aren't simply 'in love' or 'not in love'. It is practice. It is a process. It's a fucking job. I mean that in the best way. It is the most fulfilling job you will ever have. Of course, those stakes mean it is the hardest job you can imagine. Love, real grownup love, is the thing history is built upon. It is the back story for legends and powerful men and women. But those stories are seldom told in popular culture. Real love stories are the unwritten wives, mothers, and fathers that allow heroes their journey. Real love is the foundation of social reality.
I'm not a great man, nor a legend. (No Fuck). But I see a shadow of those stories told in Shawna's work to love me every day. I'm not a fan of pretending people are perfect. I left black and white thinking in my twenties. I don't like making character into caricature. Shawna isn't perfect. I wouldn't even say she is perfect for me. That's just demonstrably unknowable. I haven't met anywhere close to the four, or so, billion women on the planet. (Not to mention the exceptionally pretty-as-a-girl, men out there---I'm looking your way Orlando Bloom).
But she is mine.
And no, I don't mean in some douche bag possessive way. She is a chosen part of who I am. I have become the person I am in relationship to her. Simply, without her I am not myself. I made that choice many years ago. Sometimes it was easy, sometimes it was hard. That pattern holds. But I never question my love. I work at it every day. Like most jobs, some days I work hard and some days I don't. But it is the act of putting in time and weaving together two lives that is the work of love.
That's how I know Shawna loves me, even when she is sad and not sure if she loves herself. As always, the feeling is not the important bit. Feeling in love is nice. It can be intoxicating. It can be maddening. But it's just a feeling. I've felt like killing people. The key is that I didn't. And the key to love is what we do. Shawna takes care of me, and our boys, every day. She wakes up tired. She feeds them, even after they've bitten her nipples and laughed. She changes them and keeps them clean while they wriggle and writhe and struggle to free themselves. It is hard and mostly unrewarding work. She does it for love. It usually doesn't feel like that. But it lets me go to work, write my dissertation and try and be the person I picture in my head.
That person, real and imagined, doesn't exist without Shawna's love. That person, without the acts of mundane passion and real life building, is only a shadow. I am only myself, past, present and future, in relationship to Shawna.
I chose her many years ago. I choose her again this day. I'll choose her once more tomorrow.
She is mine. I am hers. We are ours. I love you Shawna.
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