NHL Awards: All that Glitters isn't the Stanley Cup

The NHL Awards took place tonight in Vegas. The Twitterverse was abuzz with the winners. Many of my friends were there to cover the event. I missed the entire broadcast.

And I didn't care.

I didn't care that I missed a number of good looking hockey players walking the red carpet in Armani, Hugo Boss and other designers I don't know. (Don't get on me because I wrote "good looking." We all know there are some lookers in the league. Even if you don't want to admit that aloud.)

I didn't care that I missed host Jay Mohr poke fun at the Edmonton Oilers and goodness knows what/who else.

I didn't care that I missed half-baked presenters and awkward acceptance speeches.

I didn't care that I don't know award winners aside from Lidstrom, Kesler & Disco Dan Bylsma.

Is something wrong with me? Or do more hockey fans feel the same way I do, even if they don't want to admit it aloud?

My interest ended after the Bruins won the Cup. To me, that's the only award that really matters (NOT to take away from players' individual achievements).

So what DO I care about?

Ask me on Sunday, after the NHL Draft has ended.

Sunday Puckpourri: Prospects and Flyers and Bears, oh my!

There's a lot going on right now in the hockey world, but on the other hand, we're heading into the final laps of the race for glory that signifies the end to another season. 2460 regular season games have been played. 83 playoffs games are in the books.


Photo courtesy: Associated Press

The Philadelphia Flyers and Chicago Blackhawks just wrapped up a high-scoring Game 1 last night, with Chicago prevailing, 6-5. Game 2 gets underway Monday night at 8pm Eastern. There's a bunch of Game 1 coverage, including video clips of interviews, on the NHL's website: www.nhl.com.


Calder Cup Underdogs: Texas Stars (photo: Texas Stars Hockey)

The Calder Cup race is also down to the final two teams: the reigning champion Hershey Bears and the Texas Stars, who join the 2002 Chicago Wolves and Bridgeport Sound Tigers in reaching the Calder Cup finals in their first season. According to the AHL's website: "Texas won a pair of Game 7’s on the road – just the fifth time in AHL history that feat has been accomplished. The Stars, who initially fell into a 2-0 series hole, also became the 21st AHL team to win a best-of-7 series after dropping the first two games." Not even the return of leading scorer P.K. Subban, who had a tremendous showing for the Canadiens in the playoffs before Montreal folded to Philadelphia, could help Hamilton overcome the upstart Stars. You can read more about Texas' amazing comeback by clicking here.


Defending Calder Cup champs: Hershey Bears (Photo: Hershey Bears)

The Hershey Bears were their dominating selves, knocking off the Bridgeport Sound Tigers in 5 games, sweeping the Albany River Rats in the second round, then dispatching the Manchester Monarchs in 6 hard-fought games in the Eastern Conference Finals. Game 1 of the Calder Cup Finals gets underway on Thursday, June 3. According to the AHL's website, you can listen to all the games live on XM Radio. For more information, check out www.theahl.com. I'm cheering for the upstart Texas Stars. They've shown grit all season long. I hope they have what it takes to pull off a Calder Cup victory.


Neuvirth & Bernier: Two stellar goaltenders (Photo: Hershey Bears)

Now, to the prospects.  The NHL invited 100 18-year-olds to take part in a pre-draft combine, undergoing a battery of physical and psychological tests, as well as one on one interviews with NHL GM's and other team officials. All eyes are, of course, on Tyler Seguin and Taylor Hall. Hall drew attention by not taking part in the physical tests. He's apparently healing from a number of injuries suffered in post-season play culminating in helping his Windsor Spitfires win the Memorial Cup in Brandon last weekend. Seguin took part in all aspects of the Combine and was reportedly impressive on all counts. I'm still looking for updates on T-Birds goalie Calvin Pickard and Silvertips goalie Kent Simpson. The best Combine coverage I could find was up at TSN's website. Here's the link: http://www.tsn.ca/draftcentre/

That's it for now. I'm off to prepare for today's radio show. But that's another story.

Confession Time

Thursday morning. 3:45 am.

My news anchor, Brad, enters the newsroom. Usually, he says “Good Morning.” Not this time. He strides up to me and says loudly, “Rematch!” Brad’s from Detroit and a rabid Red Wings fan. I am a rabid Pittsburgh Penguins fan. I hold up my hand for a high five and he slaps it. “Let’s have a great series!” we agree, and he continues to his desk as I turn my attention back to proofreading scripts for the newscast.

But as I sat there, I felt a little guilty. I just identified myself as a “rabid” Penguins fan. But I have a confession to make. Several short months ago, I wasn’t so rabid. In fact, I doubted very much that the Pens would even have an outside shot at the post season. They were in 10^th place. They weren’t gelling as a team. The lines seemed out of sync. Even pairing Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin together didn’t really yield the results everyone hoped they would. Okay, so Malkin and Crosby were the scoring leaders for most of the season. But that exalted statistic didn’t do much for the team itself. They would win one, lose 3. Win 2, lose 4. They’d win 6-0, then lose by the same margin. They’d blow 3 to 4 point leads and lose in overtime, or a shootout. Friends who are diehard Pens fans stuck with them, though. “Just wait,” they insisted, “they’ll turn things around.” Even my friend Doug, who is a New York Rangers fan, tried to boost my spirits. “It’s only December,” he reminded me. “There’s a lot of time left in the season.”

But I didn’t agree. By Christmas, I had lost most of my faith in the team. Oh, I still loved them as much as I ever did, but I had resigned myself to the fact that the Pens would be one of those teams who went to the Stanley Cup Finals one year, only to finish out of the running the next year. I told myself the Pens had lost too many key players, like Ryan Malone, who I considered to be the “swagger” of the Pens. Like Gary Roberts, who I considered to be the hard-nosed, grizzled veteran. Like Mark Recchi, who I considered to be the legacy of the team. Like Marian Hossa, who only joined the Pens in the post season run, but who fit in so well, it seemed as though he’d always been part of the black and gold. My husband kept telling me to calm down, that the Pens would make some decisions come trade time that would give the team the boost it needed. But to be brutally honest, I did not believe him. And listening to Coach Michel Therrien did not make me feel any better. He gave press conferences but he never SAID ANYTHING. The only thing I remember about any of his press conferences was “Call me Mike.” Huh??

Then, the Pens gave all of us the best Valentine’s Day present. On February 15, they fired Therrien and called Dan Bylsma up from the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins to man the helm of this decidedly listing ship. And something happened.

The Penguins started winning.

They won 18 of the next 25 games. They lost 7, including 4 in overtime. The Pens added a couple of key players at the trade deadline: feisty sharp shooter Chris Kunitz and solid veteran Bill Guerin. Other players stepped up: Maxime Talbot, Matt Cooke, Kris Letang. Sergei Gonchar came back. Malkin continued his tear up the scoring charts, with Sid right behind him. And the Pens steadily moved up the ranks. By the time the regular season wound down, they were 2^nd in the Atlantic Division and had secured a solid playoff spot. And it seemed that the Pens just got stronger with every game, even ones they lost. And they looked like they were HAVING FUN OUT THERE!

What happened? I think that “Disco Dan” Bylsma injected some personality into the team. Was it his age? At 38, he’s the youngest head coach right now in the NHL. (Therrien is 46). And even though he doesn’t have a lot of head coaching experience (He was in his first season as the top guy for WBS), he seemed to “connect” with the guys. They fed off his energy and he fed off theirs. And it seemed to propel them; first, as they met the Philadelphia Flyers and won in 6 games. Then, the much-anticipated 2^nd round match up with Alexander Ovechkin and the Washington Capitals. This series went to 7 thrilling games, but the Pens kept their cool and prevailed. The Carolina Hurricanes came next, fresh off an upset of the Boston Bruins and hungry for their own return to the Stanley Cup Finals. But the Pens persevered here, too and swept the ‘Canes in 4 games to clinch the Eastern Conference Championship.

In the West, the defending Stanley Cup Champion Detroit Red Wings were also steadily blasting through the competition. They swept the Columbus Blue Jackets in 4 games. They battled the Anaheim Ducks in 7 games, then dispatched a tough young Chicago Blackhawks team in 5 games.

My faith wobbled in December, but as the Pens started believing in themselves and playing better, my faith grew stronger. I still feel a stab of guilt that I doubted, and once my friends who are Penguins fans read this, they may think less of me. But confession is good for the soul, isn’t it?

My husband did say “I told you so.” He told me that Guerin especially would be good for the team. He was absolutely right. So, I won’t begrudge Stu his moment in the sun.

This morning. 3:15.

My friend Rex sneaks over to Brad’s desk and tapes a Pittsburgh Penguins banner to Brad’s computer monitor. Then we get to work. 3:45 am. Brad comes striding into the newsroom. “Good Morning!” he booms. “Happy Friday!” we reply. We chat for a few seconds about the stories on tap for the newscast, then he makes his way to his desk. A few seconds of silence, then a booming laugh.

“Su! I think you need to come get this!” he calls out, and I rush over to rescue my beloved pennant. It’s now proudly affixed to the wall by my desk. Brad and I have a “friendly” wager. He thinks the Red Wings will win it in 6, like last year. I think the Pens will pull out an exciting upset in 7 games. The loser buys the winner breakfast in the cafeteria.

It’s a bet I can handle, no matter who wins the Cup.

Crying in Hockey

We’ve all heard the saying “There’s no crying in baseball.”  Tom Hanks made that abundantly clear in one of many unforgettable scenes in “A League of Their Own.”  There’s. No. Crying. In. Baseball. Period. 

If that’s the case with a sport where contact is mostly incidental (barring hitting someone with a pitch, sliding into them or engaging in a good, bench-clearing brawl), then crying is definitely outlawed in the rough and tumble sport of hockey.  There’s just one problem with that. 

Someone forgot to tell me.

I am emotional by nature.  I cried when Bambi’s mother was killed.  I cried when Racer X saved Speed’s life in one cartoon episode and just when I thought he would reveal himself to be Speed’s brother, he walked off into the sunset instead.  I cry at Folgers’ coffee commercials.  I could go on, but you get the picture.

When I started liking hockey back in the 80’s, I saw the game differently. It was pure, superficial entertainment, like a bar brawl on skates.  When I got to college in the 90's and became our school’s national anthem singer, I started learning the nuances of the game, taught to me by hockey players who became friends, and friends who loved hockey.  I grew to love hockey and the UAH Chargers so much, a loss would leave me devastated, and not just for myself.  My heart went out to my friends who gave it their all out there on the ice, only to fall short.  Of course, no team could win EVERY game all the time, but I never said I was rational about this.  I cried after every loss, but in private.  The players would not know just what a wimp their national anthem singer was.

That was several years ago.  And I can say that I am now even more emotional about hockey than I was in school.  Last year, my beloved Penguins took it to 6 games in the Stanley Cup finals, only to lose on home ice to a very talented Red Wings team. I spent hours after that loss curled up in my bed, weeping my heart out.  The looks on the faces of the guys, who fell short after coming so far, remain fresh in my mind’s eye.  And if I think about it too much, I will fall apart all over again.

This year, I confess that things got even worse.  Why?  I added two more teams to my “favorites” list: the Everett Silvertips and Seattle Thunderbirds.  I went to games, interviewed players and somewhere along the road, forgot to remain unbiased.  Sitting up in the media section at ShoWare Center, I cried every time they lost.  It’s a good thing that area up there is pretty dark, although I think one of the WHL people saw me wiping my eyes once.  I cried when the Silvertips lost their final home game of the regular season to Chilliwack.  The 'Tips had already made the playoffs, but that didn't matter.  And I wept when both the Silvertips and T-Birds were knocked out in the first round of the playoffs by Tri City and Spokane.  My heart went out to these kids, because they are kids, no matter how mature they sound or act.  They played their best, but their opponents played just a little better.  I cried for their heartbreak and then I cried for the players who would be moving on because they had reached the WHL age limit.  I had gone to games in years past, but the teams had been at arm's length then. I didn’t keep up with who was going and who was staying.  

This year, things were different.  I knew I would miss Taylor Ellington, Graham Poteur, and Daniel Bartek making great hits and plays at Comcast Arena.  It would hurt to not see Chris Cloud, Devon LeBlanc, Greg Scott, Jim O’Brien and Thomas Hickey in T-Birds blue, ruling the ice at ShoWare Center.  I’m happy for the guys who moved onto the AHL, one step closer to fulfilling their NHL dreams: Taylor with the Manitoba Moose, Jimmy with the Binghamton Senators, Greg with the Toronto Marlies and Thomas with the Manchester Monarchs.  As a fan of these guys, I now have new teams to learn about and cheer for. I hope that Graham, Daniel, Chris and Devon find new opportunities to continue their hockey careers as well so I can expand my horizons even more. But that doesn’t change the fact that I miss them, along with a host of Everett and Seattle fans.

This brings me to today.  My favorite team is once again in the hunt for the Stanley Cup.  The Pens opened second round action today against a very strong and determined Caps team.  When Varlamov somehow denied Crosby what looked like an easy goal, I knew in my gut that it would come back to haunt the Pens. And it did.  My guys lost 3-2, and as the clock ran out, the tears came.  Jeez. It’s only Game 1! If the Penguins actually make it to the Finals, I may have to be committed because I’m sure to have a nervous breakdown!

Back when I was crying about the T-Birds' and ‘Tips' seasons ending in the first round of the WHL playoffs, my friend Shawn tried to make me feel better about being so emotional.  After all, I am a sports writer.  I edit a hockey page at a TV station website. I should not cry!  The newspaper reporters who covered the games with me surely did not cry after each loss.  Shawn, being the good friend he is, pointed out that he doubted any sports writer who had covered Ray Bourke for as long as they did, could remain stoic when, after 22 seasons, he finally won the Cup with the Avalanche in 2001.  I remember watching that game and seeing Joe Sakic hand the Cup to Bourke on what would turn out to be his final night as an NHL player.

But of course, that’s not nearly the same.  That was a momentous occasion more than two decades in the making.  It’s OKAY to cry at times like that.  What I do is much more trivial and has me thinking hard about giving up hockey as a sport to watch.  I mean, really.  I cannot be taken seriously if I dissolve into weepy tears over games that I should be IMPARTIAL about.  I should not care so much about the players. I should just do my job and go home and be done with it.  But in my heart of hearts, I know I can’t do it.  I am emotional. I’ve always been emotional. (Remember Bambi?) On the other hand, I love hockey.  I love watching the game, from the Pee Wee level to the Big Show itself. 

So, where does that leave me?

Well, I guess I could undergo surgery to plug my tear ducts up.  Or, not go to T-Birds or Silvertips games next season and just report the scores like most everyone else. Or, I could go and hope no one sees me wiping my eyes after a particularly difficult loss.  I still have a few months to decide. But do me this favor if you think you see me crying at a hockey game: please don’t laugh. Or at least, have the decency to turn away first.  

'Cause I know there’s no crying in hockey.  But someone forgot to tell that to my heart.

Redemption

Before I go any further, let me say most emphatically, that I am a Pittsburgh Penguins fan, and a rabid one at that. The Pens’ loss in the Stanley Cup Finals still pains me so much that I cry if I dwell on it too much. Having said that, I wanted to share something that’s been percolating inside my brain for weeks. And if you already know the story, please move on, by all means. Like I said, this has been percolating in my brain and I need to get it out.

I call this blog "Redemption", but it's about so much more than that. It's about healing. It's about friendship. And it's about the glory of second chances.

It’s about Darren McCarty of the Red Wings. Any Detroit fan (and probably many NHL fans) know his story. I’m not going to go into details because that’s not really what makes this story so special. What really reaches out to me, is how teammate Kris Draper refused to give up on McCarty. From the accounts that I’ve seen and read, Kris reached out to Darren when others would have turned away. Darren had truly hit rock bottom. No wife. No kids. No house. No Red Wings memorabilia. They were all gone- either from frustration (wife and kids) or from bankruptcy (everything else). A once-stellar player who had helped lead his team to Stanley Cup Victories in 1997, 1998 and 2002 was truly a shadow of his former self.

The accounts that I’ve read say that Kris offered to help Darren get on track- that Darren worked out with Kris at Kris’ training facility. That Kris helped Darren get into rehab for a fourth (and final?) time. With encouragement and support, Darren started to pull his life back together. His wife came back with the kids. He got a gig playing minor league hockey - on a team owned by Draper. He seemed to be regaining his confidence and self respect. And then, the story got even better.

Darren asked Red Wings GM Ken Holland to give him another chance. Holland could have said what many other GM’s would have said: “Forget it. You blew your chance.” He didn’t. Ken Holland gave Darren McCarty that second chance. So, in November 2007, McCarthy suited up again as a Red Wing.

And had a season to remember.

Detroit had an amazing run. The post season was even better, culminating in a thrilling, 6-game Finals against my Penguins to win the Cup. And even as my heart broke for my favorite team, when I saw Darren McCarty lift that Cup over his head, I broke down and sobbed. I know what it’s taken for him to get to that glorious moment on the ice in Mellon Arena on June 4, 2008. I, too, have a story of redemption. I, too, have friends who have helped me on the road to healing. And I, too, have been given a second chance. I also know that I’m not the only one with such a story.

So, let’s go back to that moment: McCarty raising the Cup. It’s about so much more than winning a game, so much more than a uniform, or maybe even a team.

It’s about reclaiming your LIFE.

And what a life it is!

Black and Gold Tears

The tears came last night.
They started as the buzzer ended, and the final score flashed: 3-2.
The Penguins' quest for the Stanley Cup had come to a heartbreaking end, 6 games in.
Players hunched on the ice.
They sat in stunned silence on the bench, before getting up and congratulating the Red Wings on their victory- classy even in the face of despair.
And my heart broke for them.

The tears flowed again as I watched the locker room post.
Some players were so choked up, they couldn't talk.
Some put on a brave face to answer questions they didn't even want to *think* about.
And their leader, just 20 years old, tried gamely to talk, even as his voice quivered and his eyes welled up again and again.

I, personally, did not lose the Stanley Cup.
I never set foot on the ice.
I think the team played their hearts and their guts out and don't fault them for anything.

So why do I feel as bad as Crosby, Malkin, Malone, Fleury, Talbot and the rest?
Have I become the type of fan that takes the team's loss as personally as the players do?

The tears flowed this morning as I read several wrap-up articles, lauding the young Penguins and painting a bright outlook for the future of these amazing guys.

And as I looked at my tears, I saw that they had turned BLACK and GOLD.