So as we sit here on the eve of an announcement on the Ilya Kovalchuk contract hearing, I figure now is as good a time as any to come out of hibernation to share my thoughts. Now had I been keeping up all summer long like a good little blogster should, you’d have known that the first thing out of my mouth when I heard about the deal was, “I bet you dollars to donuts that Bettman is going to find a way to nullify this contract.”
OK, that was actually the second thing out of my mouth, right after “I swear to God Lou’s gotta be connected.” But the Bettman comment makes for better copy. And it won’t get me whacked. So let’s go with that.
Do I think Kovalchuk is going to be playing at age 44, as the contract presupposes? Of course not! Everyone understands that the Devils employed some creative accounting to fit this deal within the salary cap. Hell, GM Lou Lamoriello basically admitted as much, as reported in the web’s second-best Devils blog, Tom Gulitti’s Fire and Ice. But the contract is completely in line with the league rules as specified in the Collective Bargaining Agreement.
The problem, as it usually is with this screwy league and the egomaniacal idiots who run it, is that the rules are stupid and are applied on a case-by-case basis at the whim of the Napoleonic little twerp in the President’s seat.
According to the rules, a team’s annual payroll is not equal to how much money they give their players in a given year. (Huh?) Instead, they use the average annual salary over the life of the contract. So smart GMs have taken advantage of this by offering contracts that are so front-loaded they make Dolly Parton look like Kate Moss. (A Dolly Parton reference? Wow, I’m dating myself. I knew I shouldn’t have gone to my 25-year high school reunion last night!)
The Blackhawks employed the same thinking just last year when they signed Marian Hossa. And the league said, “that’s OK, Blackhawks, because we like you.” The Devils are another story. Call me a crybaby, but what other team has had rules put in place that specifically target their players? (See: the infernal trapezoid, a.k.a. “No Marty Zone”) So, there was no doubt in my mind that the league would step in, just as there’s no doubt in my mind that, by this time tomorrow, we’ll be hearing about how the “independent” arbitrator has ruled in the League’s favor.
This never gets old
Few moments in Devils history have made me as proud to be a fan than this one. It’s as poignant today as it was a decade and a half ago, when it happened, and probably has a lot to do with the League’s hatred of Jersey’s Team.
To set the scene, the Devils owner at the time, Dr. John McMullen, was threatening to move the team to Nashville if he didn’t get a new arena built. (A crappy thing to do in the midst of our first Cup run…but McMullen’s dead now, so I won’t bash him at the moment.) So what does the weasel Bettman do? Comes out and says, “well, there’s already 4 teams within 100 miles, so it would be better if the Devils moved into a new market.” I’m paraphrasing, of course. The actual quote, I think, was “Money money money money money money money.”
ESPN — who later dropped the league from its programming because they hated dealing with this smarmy little creep — did this interview in the second intermission of the final game of the season, about an hour before we hoisted Stanley. And Devils fans let the world know what we knew then, and everyone else knows now. Say it with me now as you click this link: “Bettman sucks!!!”
Thanks to the guy who posted this video clip on Facebook’s “The Fire Gary Bettman Movement” page. If you have the means, I highly suggest joining.
Well that didn’t take long. Another Devils playoff run has come and gone in the blink of an eye.
How short was this one? About 5 minutes long.
Five minutes. That’s all it took. Because 5 minutes into Game 1, Ilya Kovalchuk–the Devils flashy new offensive juggernaut–found himself in the slot with a wide open shot. Standing between him and paydirt was Brian Boucher–the Flyers’ Goalie By Default, the guy who got the job only because the team’s #1 got hurt, his waiver-wire replacement got hurt, and the other 2 nobodies they played were even worse. They guy who, 10 years ago, sparked the Devils’ second Cup run by blowing a 3-1 series lead.
Five minutes into Game 1, Kovy ripped one his lasers. Boucher robbed him with the glove. And the die was cast.
From that point on, it seemed the only guys trying to help the Devils win were the referees. That was easily the worse officiating I’ve seen in 30 years as a hockey fan–and the bad calls went against the Flyers, I’d say, by a 2-1 margin. But the only thing worse than the officiating was the Devils power play. The Flyers took advantage of their gifts, the Devils did not. End of series. End of story.
One final note: Marty is old. It’s time to face facts. By no means am I trying to blame this series on him–everyone is to blame, including us fans who let the “BOOOOOSH!” of the 3,000 Flyers fans at The Rock drown out any enthusiasm the 14,000 of us may have had. And Marty still shows flashes of brilliance, as evidenced Tuesday night with that glove save over the 2-pad stack. But he is just too old to consistently bail this team out time and time again, as he’s done for the past 16 years.
Can we still with a Cup with him? Absolutely! But not until we face the fact that he is not 24 years old anymore and can no longer win series by himself.
Hmmm, ya think a big, bruising defenseman to clear the crease would help?
I’m not just talking about the final outcome in last night’s Game 2–Devils 5, Flyers 3. Great as it felt at the end of the night, what has me waxing nostalgic is what happened between the opening puck-drop and Kovy’s empty netter: The Philthy Flyers once again showed why they are oh-so-deserving of that nickname.
It started when Carcillo purposely skated into Kovalchuk’s elbow to draw a penalty. Now I don’t like to pass judgement on people based on their looks, but can you honestly tell me that if you saw this guy late at night on a street corner–say, 9th and Passyunk, home of Pat’s Steaks–you wouldn’t cross the street and go to Geno’s? Of course you would! This guy just LOOKS like a thug, and plays like one too. Parise’s shorty on the ensuing power play tasted sweeter than “One wit, Whiz.”
The d—–baggery continued with Boucher grinding Parise’s head into the ice with his blocker, and Richards and a henchman doing likewise moments later–in full view of the refs, who declined to make a call. (Couldn’t you just see a little Bettman on one of Furlatt’s shoulders and Colin Campbell on the other, both saying, “No penalties on orange! We can’t let the Devils win. They’re boring. They didn’t move to Nashville when I told them to. They don’t make us money. Boo Devils. Yay money!”)
Later, Richards “challenged” Kovalchuk, pretending to drop the gloves to draw another cheap penalty–the ultimate insult to The Code that makes this game so great. And when Arron Asham, who can’t even spell his own name right, took a whack at Marty’s glove while the puck was in the air, he was probably thinking “I either get a goal or break his fingers. It’s a win-win.”
Through it all, as the anger continued to boil within me, I thought, “Hey! The anger is continuing to boil within me!”
Hatred. Desperation. Good guys vs bad guys. THIS is Devils-Flyers. THIS is playoff hockey. THIS is what we live for!
Deflections:
Someone should start a Facebook fan page
dedicated to Brian Engblom’s hair.
Oh, to be a fly in the room…
I would love to know what was said, and by whom, during the first intermission. (Someone on Facebook suggested Scott Stevens was threatening to lace ‘em up. Nice!) Whatever it was, I saw a different Devils team in the second period–specifically, right after killing Greener’s penalty. Marty made some huge stops, and Colin White finally started putting people on their butts.
That’s Devils hockey, folks, in case you forgot. That’s what got us 3 Cups: clutch goaltending, and big, tough defensemen making life miserable for opposing forwards. I’ve crowed about this ad nauseum, but if our defense doesn’t start clearing the crease with regularity, we’re not going very far again this year.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t keep this up for 60 minutes. Seeing Skoula standing idly by moments before Giroux deflected in the second Flyer goal brought back bad memories of Niclas Have-A-Goal. And seeing Pronger have a picnic in front of Brodeur before scoring his goal, with no other red sweaters even in the camera shot, was just disgraceful.
Jacques can screw with the forward lines all he wants…actually, no, he needs to stop that. But that’s a topic for another post. Back to my point:
Jacques can screw with the forward lines all he wants, but the best change he can make Sunday night would be putting Mark Fraser in the lineup. The post-injury Whitey can only do so much, Salvador seems to have lost some of his snarl (injury? age? sleepy? groggy? try a 5-Hour Energy). All year long, Fraser has shown toughness, smart decision making, and a willingness to stand up for his teammates that seems to come and go with the current group. Yeah, yeah, I know–Jacques likes experience on the blueline in the playoffs. So dress 7 defensemen so you have both Mottau’s experience and Fraser’s physicality to call upon as necessary. (No offense, but Matt Corrente? Shows you how inconsequential the 12th forward spot is. Hell, that was MY role in the beer leagues, so I know.)
The Devils traveled a familiar road to lock up their division and the #2 seed in the East. Playing “Marty bar the door,” they finished the season in full lockdown mode, allowing a total of 7 goals in their last 7 games.
Their first-round opponent secured their spot in a somewhat less conventional fashion.
In case you missed it, the battle for the last playoff spot in the East came down to the season finale between the Rangers and Flyers–winner goes to the playoffs, loser goes to the golf course. Regulation time ended with the teams tied 1-1. The overtime was scoreless. And then Gary Bettman’s worst nightmare came true.
A shootout would determine a playoff spot.
Yes, a shootout.
After 40 players left everything they’ve got on the ice for 65 minutes–nay, for 81 games!–the sum total of their season’s work would come down to an individual skills competition, the likes of which used to provide between-periods fluff (Honk if you remember “Showdown!”).
Then Fate really stuck it to Bettman. With the Flyers’ win, the League’s darling Rangers got hosed by one of the League’s own stupid gimmicks.
If there’s a silver lining in all this, I hope its that this travesty finally sparks the long-overdue “distinct kicking motion” that sends that weasel, his shootouts, his effin’ trapezoid, and all the rest of his artificial crap to the curb.
Deflections:
Don’tcha think Jeff Finger should change his number to 11?
Then whenever he makes a big hit, the announcers can say “Oooh! That’s a Paralyzer!”
In case you needed more proof that Martin est la meilleure jamais…
The Devils wrapped up their 5th Jennings Trophy (fewest goals allowed on the season) tonight. That ties them with the Montreal Canadiens for the most all-time.
Let me repeat that: The Devils have won the Jennings 5 times in their 28-year existence. The only team to match that feat has been playing for 101 years.
(La meilleure jamais? That’s “the best ever,” by the way. But since we’re talking about Marty, you probably already knew that.)
With regular writer Nick Casale on vacation this week, IMWT welcomes guest bloggers Glas Haffull and Hal Fempty.
Glas Hafful: Well, Jacques Lemaire is nothing if not a man of his word. He said he would get Vladimir Zharkov back in the lineup, and tonight the Russian rookie played for the second game in a row. Jacques even gave him a chance to skate with Kovalchuk and Zajac. Isn’t that nice?
Hal Fempty: Are you insane? More importantly, is Lemaire? What in God’s name is Zharkov — who has exactly ZERO goals in his career — doing on the top line? I mean, Lemaire’s line juggling has paid off at times this year, but this time he’s really jumped the shark.
GH: Jumped the … what?
HF: Jumped the shark! Hit rock bottom! Completely lost it! You know, like that Web site that points out when a previously good TV show turns to crap? Named after the Happy Days episode where Fonzie jumped over the killer shark on waterskis.
GH: No, no, don’t you see? Jacques knows what to expect from his top 6 forwards. And now that we’ve clinched a playoff berth, he’s just trying to find out what he has in the rest of the guys.
HF: What he has is 4 losses in the last 6 games…all to crappy teams that are out of, or just barely in, the playoffs themselves. We need to win some hockey games and build some momentum heading into the second season! Oh, and there’s that small matter of first place in the division being up for grabs?
GH: Chillax, Hal. Which would you rather have, first place in the division, or a nice long playoff run? When the playoffs start, I’m sure we’ll see ZZ Pops back together, and then Elias centering Kovalchuk and Zubrus…
HF: Ooooh, Zubrus back in the top 6. That’s comforting…NOT! About the only thing Jacques did right tonight was dropping that bum to the 4th line. Why doesn’t he just put Clarkson on the wing with Kovy and Patty? I mean, Rolston proved he couldn’t cut it with those guys.
GH: Now hold on a second here. What’s with all the Rolly hatin’ in Devildom? The guy’s got 19 goals this year. That’s not bad for a 37 year old.
HF: A 37 year old who’s making $5 mil a year! At that salary, you’ve gotta be putting up 30, 35 goals. He’s washed up, just like Niedermayer and Pandolfo. About the only member of the New Jersey Geriatric Society who’s shown me anything this year is McAmmond. Why they insist on keeping him on the 4th line is beyond me.
GH: I agree with you there. McAmmond, Rolston, and Clarkson or Zubrus would be a killer 3rd line. They’re all responsible defensively, and are skilled offensively to boot. They can give you that secondary scoring that’s so critical in the playoffs.
HF: Secondary scoring? How about some primary scoring! I don’t know if you noticed, but that was a goose-egg on our side of the ledger tonight against the Bruins. And we only managed 1 against the Flyers’ 47th string goalie in the last game.
GH: Hey! Brian Boucher’s a proven NHL veteran. And he’s from Woonsocket, RI. You have to say “Woonsocket, RI” every chance you get, you know.
HF: Next time a Devil gives up a shot on goal to try and make an oh-so-unselfish pass, I’m gonna kick him in the woonsocket! It’s like they’re all so preoccupied with making friends with their new linemates, no one wants to shoot the puck anymore! That’s why they’re not scoring, and that’s why they’re not winning.
I’ll take the heat for the Devils loss against the Rangers tonight. A game we had in the bag with less than half a minute to go. A game that would have clinched a playoff berth for us while all but eliminating the hated Ranjerks.
See, I broke the cardinal rule every sports fan knows: Never, EVER change your seat when your team is winning. So what did I do as the final minute wound down? Lifted my belligerent butt off the couch and walked toward the TV. Had to get real close, you know, because a 42″ hi-def monitor is really hard to see from 7 feet away.
So I got up and I moved to a spot that put my face about 10 inches from the screen. The very spot where said face watched in disbelief when Jussi Jokkinen tied Game 7 of last year’s first-round playoff series with 1:20 left. The very same spot where that very same face turned ashen as Erik Staal stole our first-round triumph with 31.7 seconds to go in that game. The spot that I hereby deem The Forbidden Zone for anyone watching a Devils game at my house from this day forward.
Deflections:
To Andrew Peters, I offer this recently unearthed (Herb) Brooksism:
You should take 2 weeks off, then retire.
But seriously now, folks…
These last-minute goals against are really starting to get on my nerves. And the reason for them is clear: we desperately need a big, nasty, stonewalling, stud of a defenseman who can stake a claim to the front of the crease and decree, with all the stoicism of John Cleese’s Black Knight defying Graham Chapman’s King Arthur: “None. Shall. Pass.”
Now I don’t want to get off on a rant here, because I already exhausted this topic (scroll down to Don’t it Make My Blueline Blue, 2/2/10). But if someone doesn’t step into this role pronto–Salvador, Whitey, Marc Fraser, for crissakes–we are once again going to be at a serious disadvantage when those inevitable nail-biters come around in the playoffs.
It’s a recurring theme around here: I’ve been to the last 2 Devils home games since my last post, and I swear I saw 2 different teams. And it’s not just because they wore their throwback red & green uniforms for one of those games. (More on that later.)
On Wednesday, St. Patrick’s Day, it was classic Devils, as they played a sound defensive game and took advantage of their opponent’s mistakes (of which Pittsburgh uncharacteristically made several). The Rock was rocking, with chants of “You can’t beat us!” punctuating the fact that were in the process of sweeping the season series against the defending champs.
Saturday, St. Louis blew into town and, true to form, the Devils lowered their game to the level of this non-playoff squad and suffered a 1-0 loss. Sandwiched in between was an equally uninspired loss to the bottom-dwelling Leafs at the Air Canada Centre.
It’s great to see that this team has the firepower to skate with the big boys, as they did Wednesday vs the Pens. But the mark of a true champion is to maintain that same level of excellence night in and night out. If Jacques & Co. don’t figure out a way to consistently dictate play, I’m afraid we may be in for another long off-season.
Deflections:
If Chris Berman did hockey, do you think he’d come up with
Travis “Black Snake” Moen?
Now, about those throwback sweaters…
I love the fact that Lou Lamoriello has steadfastly thumbed his nose at Gary Bettman’s most prominent of revenue-generating gimmicks, the third jersey. And frankly, I felt a bit betrayed when it was announced they’d be wearing the old-school unis on St. Patrick’s Day. Then throw in the fact that what they should have been celebrating was not the team’s humble beginnings, but rather the freshly minted 1-year anniversary of Marty becoming #1 all-time in victories and Patrik Elias becoming the team’s all-time scoring leader. Add it all up, and it just didn’t seem like a good idea.
When I caught my first glimpse of the new/old duds, all I could see was those stupid white tails–the ”fart flap” as my friend Mike calls them. Another one of Bettman’s stellar contributions to the game. “We have to redesign all the uniforms league-wide so Reebok can pay us millions and millions of dollars. And all the fans will have to go out and buy all new jerseys, and we can make even more money. Yay, money! Tradition schmadition!” I don’t know what b.s. reason they tried to proffer for the scalloped jersey design; I do know that, as the Devils skated up ice that night, white tails flapping behind them, they looked like so many agitated deer fleeing a hungry predator.
I will say this: Whether it was the jerseys, the anniversaries, the opponent, or the St. Patrick’s Day revelry, the atmosphere that night was the best of any non-playoff game I’ve ever been to. Some highlights:
Sidney Crosby was bood mercilessly. I was ambivalent about that–glad Devs fans were showing emotion, but a bit turned off by the fact that they were booing a superior athlete and great ambassador for the game. Then Sid got called for a penalty, and began to whine to the ref. And whine. And whine. And whine some more. That’s when I remembered why the “Cindy” haters exist. For the love of God, take it like a man and go to the box already! Later, as I’m walking to my car after the game, I hear this guy yelling “wahh! wahh! wahh!” I followed his gaze, and sure enough, the object of his derision was another fan sporting a black and gold 87 sweater. Brilliant!
The flower wilted.Marc-Andre Fleury took an early shower after the 4th Devils goal. Have we planted a seed of doubt in his head that may germinate come playoff time?
We didn’t suck in the second period! ‘Nuff said.
One of the loudest and longest ovations came when the team recognized an Iraqi war veteran on the Jumbotron. They’ve done this every game I’ve been to this year, and it never fails to elicit a long, heartfelt standing ovation. Nicely done Devils, bravo Devils fans, and God Bless Our Troops.
Deflections:
I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking that “Roman Hamrlik” sounds like some Italian wrestler’s finishing move.
Can’t you just hear Mean Gene now: “Oh no! I think Carelli’s gonna go for
the Roman Hammer Lick! And it’s goodnight, S.D. Jones.”
Highlights from the St. Louis game
There was only 1: this epic battle between former Devils (and still fan favorite) Cam Janssen, and our own PL3. Two minutes and 34 seconds of sheer entertainment. Cam Janssen vs Pierre-Luc Letourneau-Leblond
Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect that.
After incredible wins against our top rival and the defending champions, the Devils squared off against the lowly Islanders and played like…well, the lowly Islanders. Only worse. So on a night when they could have–SHOULD have–grabbed back a share of first place, they slog through a 4-2 loss to one of the worst teams in the league.
It’s absolutely amazing how the Devils continue to play down to the level of their competition when facing the league’s weaker teams. Even more amazing is the fact that this phenomenon has continued year after year, coach after coach, and no one has figured out how to stop it.
I really wish I had something profoundly insightful to say here. Or at least something dripping with the diabolically clever humor you’ve come to expect in this space. But I’m really just sitting here scratching my head on this one. So instead I’ll say something diabolically clever on another topic:
Deflections:
If Chris Berman did hockey, do you think he’d come up with
Curtis “Glengarry” Glencross?
Stand-up Guys
OK, enough complaining. On to the good stuff, because there was plenty of it the past couple of days.
One of the most encouraging things about Friday’s win against the Penguins was the way the Devils stood up for each other physically. When Craig Adams nailed Martin Skoula with a hit from behind on an icing call, Bryce Salvador was right in his face, with David Clarkson next in line. When Chris Kunitz started hacking at Kovalchuk, Jamie Langenbrunner drove him through the boards…literally, as the door to the bench burst open. And when Mike Rupp took liberties with with Marty Brodeur, slapping at his ex-teammate’s glove after the puck was covered, Devils were lining up to take him to task for it.
THAT’s the kind of intensity we need to bring game after game, night after night, if we’re going to re-establish ourselves as one of the league’s elite teams.
Deflections:
Am I the only one who, upon hearing the name of Senators defenseman
Brian Lee, feels the uncontrollable urge to say “ch”?
Koval-schmuck?
Sorry Ilya. I just had to say it.
It’s not like I’m ready to label the Kovalchuk trade a bust just yet. And I’m certainly not about to start booing the guy, because he is clearly giving 110% out there. In fact, if anything, he’s pressing too much, and I’ll take that any day over a player giving less than full effort (as I was telling Vladimir Malakhov just the other day). But if we’re going to make any kind of noise in the playoffs, we’re going to need Kovy to be the game-changing force he is capable of being.
He’s shown flashes of it, for sure. Tonight’s third-period goal was a case in point. But before you could say “Pierre-Luc Letourneau-Leblond,” a very tired Kovalchuk committed a defensive miscue that resulted in Sean Bergenheim’s game-clinching shorty.
So here’s my 3-part plan to get Kovalchuk going and get the Devils to the finals:
1. Get him off the point on the power play. Sure, he can bring it like nobody’s business, but we have 2 other guys in Rolston and Langenbrunner who also have wicked slapshots–and are more reliable defensively. Another good option is Andy Greene, who is looking more and more Rafalski-esque every day.
2. Keep him on a line with Elias. Great move, putting the ultra-creative Czech at center on Kovalchuk’s line. Why didn’t someone think of that sooner? Oh yeah, someone did…scroll down to my 2/4 post.
3. Knock off this “come off the ice whenever you feel like it” business. I think telling Kovalchuk to stay out for entire power plays is adding to the pressure that’s so obviously weighing him down. The Devils are not the Thrashers, and he does not have to carry this team all by himself. He is just one piece of the puzzle–but until Jacques Lemaire starts treating him as such, he’s going to continue to grip that stick just a little too tight.
Following the model that brought the team’s lone Stanley Cup of the past 70 years, the New York Rangers have acquired several key members of the Montreal Canadiens’ 1956-1960 dynasty.
Becoming Broadway Blueshirts just in time for the 2009-2010 playoff push are forwards Maurice “Rocket” Richard, Jean Beliveau, Dickie Moore, and Bernie “Boom Boom” Geffrion. Jean-Guy Talbot and the iconic Doug Harvey will anchor the defense, while 5-time Vezina winner Jacques Plante will join the inconsistent Henrik Lundqvist in goal.
“We’ve always been a team that’s just a guy or two away from the big prize,” noted head coach John Tortorella. “It’s great to see that Slats is committed to putting those final pieces in place,” he said, referring to general manager Glen Sather.
Sather, whose 1980s Edmonton Oilers juggernaut was reconstructed in New York just in time to secure the 1993-1994 Cup, recently commented on the acquisitions.
“F#%k it,” said Sather. “I’ve paid my dues in this league. Now it’s my turn to coast along on someone else’s hard work.”
When pressed further by reporters, the architect of the league’s last legitimate dynasty continued, “Messier, Anderson, Lowe, Graves, Beukeboom, MacTavish, Tikkanen…it takes a lot of hard work to assemble all that talent. Just ask Neil Smith.
“Hell, it took him another coupla years to finally land Gretz and Kurri, which just goes to show.”
The most notable of the new Rangers, Richard revolutionized the offensive game before his death in 2000. The Rocket set the standard for goal scoring when became the first NHLer to net 50 goals in a single season and 500 for a career. He also captained Les Habitants to 4 Stanley Cup wins while contributing to 4 others.
“Eight Cups. Wow. Not even Moose can say that,” said Sather in reference to Mark Messier, who won 5 Cups with Sather in Edmonton, and captained the Rangeoilers to their 1994 championship. His orgasmic spasms on Garden ice over a decade and a half ago remain the most enduring image of the Rangers’ Cup celebration.
The Plante move raised some eyebrows among Ranger faithful for 3 key reasons: Current goaltender Lundqvist is considered one of the cornerstones of the franchise; Plante’s outspoken nature and a divisive personality have made him a cancer in the locker room; and the fact that he actually succumbed to cancer in 1986. So why the move?
“Hank has been good at times, real good,” said Tortorella of his current netminder. “Other times, let’s face it, he’s been pretty bad. It’s that inconsistency that keeps him just a notch below the Plantes and Brodeurs of the world,” the coach noted. “Oh crap, did I say that out loud?” he added, casting a covetous eye westward toward the New Jersey Devils’ all-world netminder. “You can edit that out, can’t ya?”
The other new Rangers include Talbot and Harvey, seasoned blueliners who are expected to mentor young Ranger defensemen like Dan Girardi, Matt Gilroy and Michael Del Zotto. Beliveau, Moore, and Geffrion helped carry the championship torch from the Richard/Plante years into the Guy Lafleur/Larry Robinson/Ken Dryden era. Rangers brass hopes they can fill a similar role on Broadway, as they continue to act as though their decade-and-a-half old championship is still fresh. Of course, compared to the 54-year drought that preceded it, it is.
“If you had to pick another team to try and reconstruct when your own feeble attempts at scouting, drafting, and developing home-grown talent fail year after year, you could do a lot worse than the Canadiens of the 1950’s,” said noted hockey historian and unabashed Ranger-ass kisser Stan Fischler. “This is a team that could have hoisted Lord Stanley’s grail 8 consecutive times, were it not for the league’s decision to suspend Richard for the 1955 playoffs.
“Richard had an altercation near the end of the season where he punched a linesman 2 times during a game,” Fischler explained. “So league president Clarence Campbell had no choice but to suspend him for the playoffs. That decision touched off the famous Richard Riots in Montreal, and cost the team the 54-55 Cup,”
“Punching an official…twice! Ya gotta love that grit,” said Sather, beaming like a proud papa. “You just can’t teach that. Of course, with all the money this team has, combined with the League’s desire to have a strong team in the Big Apple, we don’t have to teach anything.”
The preceding is a work of fiction, intended solely for entertainment value. All quotes have been fabricated by me, and while the historical facts are accurate, the Rangers have not in fact reached the level of desparation implied herein…yet.
What an absolutely fantastic 2 weeks of hockey we just witnessed! Of course, things in Vancouver didn’t end exactly the way those of us in the US wanted. But as hockey fans in general, and Devils fans in particular, here are 3 things we have to be thankful for.
The Bronze Medal: Hockey remains Canada’s game
I know…that sounds strange. Maybe even un-American. And definitely out of character for someone who spent last Monday reminding anyone within earshot that it was the 30th Anniversary of the Miracle on Ice. But hear me out.
A T-shirt I bought in Toronto probably sums it up best: “Canada is Hockey. Hockey is Canada.” And Sidney Crosby is both. Humble. Unassuming. Down-to-earth. Polite. As much as Gary Bettman does not want to admit it, THAT is what hockey is all about. So when The Kid potted the Gold Medal-winning goal for Canada, my disappointment was tempered by a strange feeling that all is as it should be.
Look, everyone knows how Bettman’s ex-boss David Stern took the NBA to new heights by hyping its best players as larger-than-life, rock star-like cult heroes. And we see the NHL’s attempts to do the same with its superstars. But it’s not going to work, because by and large, hockey players are not basketball players. As much as I love watching Alex Ovechkin between whistles, his over-the-top goal celebrations and off-ice publicity grabs are not good for the game.
Sidney Crosby. Jarome Iginla. Ryan Miller. Wayne Gretzky. Men who exude class, humility, and dignity. Hockey players.
Congratulations, Team Canada, and thank you!
Deflections:
“Hayley Wickenheiser” is the coolest hockey name
since “Zarley Zalapsky.”
The Silver Medal: Zach Parise shines on the international stage
Flashback: October 5, 2005. The Devils/Penguins game on Opening Day of the 2005-2006 season marks the NHL debut of a couple of youngsters we’d heard some good things about. Zach had a point that night, Sid did not. And while I confess I just had to check my Devils Media Guide to dig up the date and the final score (5-1 Devs win), I will never forget the chant I and 19,039 others bounced off the Meadowlands walls that night: “Parise’s better!(clap clap clapclapclap) Parise’s better! (clap clap clapclapclap).”
The chant was tongue in cheek, of course. But the thought behind it was right on the money: Devils fans now had our own superstar in the making.
Fast-forward 4 and a half years. On a night when Sid’s star just soared to epic proportions, with his game-tying goal in the waning seconds Zach Parise also etched his name into the tableau of international hockey history. And he did it with a hard-working, never-say-die goal that was oh-so Parise-esque.
Congratulations, Zach, and thank you!
Deflections:
Am I the only one who, upon hearing Brooks Orpik’s name,
flashes back to that DB Sweeney flick about the hockey-player-turned-figure skater? (”Toepick!”)
The Gold Medal: Marty gets a much-needed rest…and a chip on his shoulder
I said it before he got pulled and and I’ll say it again: as much as I love the guy, seeing Martin Brodeur on the bench just warmed my little Devils fan heart. Two reasons:
First–and he can deny it all he wants–Marty does need to rest at some point during the season. And having it happen now, just before the stretch run, is perfect timing. So thank you, Mike Babcock, for doing what Jacques Lemaire has not had the guts to do.
Second, and more importantly, Marty now needs to show the world that he is still at the top of his game. I ask you, Devils’s Legion: is there anyone as unbeatable as Martin Brodeur with a chip in his shoulder? Think about how well he plays in the next start after a sub-par game. Now multiply that times 10, and that’s the kind of netminding I expect from Marty as we drive for Cup #4.
