Just look at what Hockey Momma bought me on an otherwise routine trip to Lowe’s this afternoon. She loves me…she really loves me. I mean, what else could a Canadian hockey dad ask for? Of course, Father’s Day is now taken care of a few weeks early and it’s all good.
#imahockeydad
The Hockey Gods were working overtime the other night as I and thousands of others witnessed a couple of truly unbelievable sports moments in the NHL and OHL playoffs.
For me the night started kinda slow. In an odd circumstance, I found myself sitting alone (well almost alone save for good ole man’s best friend) and switching back and forth between two games: the Boston Bruins vs. the Toronto Maple Leafs in the first round of the NHL Eastern Conference playoffs and my hometown Barrie Colts vs. the London Knights in the OHL Finals; and yes, both playing game 7s. One more game 7 was also in progress between the Rangers and Caps, but my ability and willingness to focus across three channels was limited at best. My unfamiliar solitude was due to:
So poochie and I enjoyed each other’s company and cheered or booed as the four teams in our two primary games worked their way through their first periods with 1-1 results in each. Game 7s are generally pretty tight contests as neither team is willing to play a wide open game or risk making mistakes; mistakes which could mean vacations at their favourite golf courses.
However, towards the end of the first period in the NHL affair, I answered my ringing phone and was greeted by the desperate voice of one of Hockey Momma’s co-workers. On my way home from work earlier in the day, I was forced to take a detour as my primary route was closed due to a downed hydro pole. It seems the crippled pole was now responsible for power outages in the homes of hundreds or perhaps thousands of rabid hockey fans all around me. The first strike by the Hockey Gods perhaps? Regardless, I naturally offered to share my den and television; the only problem being my new viewing mates were all Leafs fans – then again this never mattered before so why should it now. Shortly after this family of Leaf-lover arrived, they were followed by a Bruins fan to even up the vibe in the house. And just like that, I was hosting a min-playoff party, conveniently equipped by Enterprise Rent-a-Car, a sponsor of the NHL and all of its teams, I might add (more on that below).
Shortly after my impromptu party mates arrival, both games started to get interesting as the bad guys from my humble perspective each scored goals to give them 2-1 leads, which they would take into their respective third periods. Third periods we shant soon forget.
In London, the Colts, missing three of their top forwards, continue to battle tooth and nail squaring the score at 2-2 with just under three minutes left in the third. This Game 7 was most assuredly going to overtime as the clock ticked under one minute then under 30 seconds. But then on a literally last second drive to the net, the puck inexplicably found its way up, over and behind the Colts keeper, who swung at it wildly and knocked it away from the net. The on-ice official waved no-goal, but with 1.1 seconds left on the clock, there would be a video review. Fingers were firmly crossed and quick prayers were issued to the aforementioned Hockey Gods. However, video from an overhead camera told a sad story as we saw the puck float through the air and over the goal line. We waited and hoped our eyes deceived us and the TV commentators. No such luck and the Knights completed a comeback from 3-1 in the series to win the OHL Championship in the absolutely last possible moment of regulation time. Maybe the Colts would have completed the comeback in the game had the buzzer sounded one second sooner or maybe not. One Game 7 ended in despair.
Meanwhile, back in Boston, more inexplicable action ensued as the Leafs proceeded to open up 3-1 and then 4-1 leads with only 15 minutes left in the third. Could it be that the upstart Leafs would serve up a major upset in the first round and send the Bruins packing, much to my dismay? Hockey Momma had returned from her meeting and the Devil from her recital by now. The Boy’s bar safety appeared secure. On TV, you could see some of the less-faithful Bruins fans themselves leaving the building. The Bruins would score with just over 10 minutes left in the game, but a two goal deficit was surely too big to overcome; even for the hardluck Leafs whose ineptitude dates back to the year before I was born. With it being 9:30 on a school night, our friends having younger kids, the game in hand and power apparently restored to their home, the Leaf fans decided to take their leave. As they walked out, I quipped “We’ll have to get together to watch the Leafs play the Rangers in the next round (also to besponsored by Enterprise Rent-a-Car as part of a NHL Playoff giveaway contest).” The Rangers and King Henrik Lundqvist, in the other game 7 were embarrassing the Caps 5-0 in their own rink.
Then the Hockey Gods flexed their muscles and changed the course of history in Boston. The veteran Bruins woke up somewhere around the 15 minute mark of the third, putting sustained pressure on the less experienced Leafs who were trying desperately to hold on to their tenuous two-goal lead. The Bruins, as per standard procedure, pulled their goalie with about two minutes left. A shot from the point with 1:22 on the clock found its way by the Bruins towering defenceman, Zdeno Chara, who installed himself as an immovable fixture in front of the Toronto goal and also by the Leafs’ defenceless keeper. A mere 16 seconds later the Bruins would bury the most incredible Game 7 tying goal in history. With momentum decidedly and understandably on their side, the Bostons (with a few missing fans who were no doubt banging their heads against walls somewhere) completed the biggest comeback ever with a now-anticipated goal in OT; leaving Leafs fans everywhere standing, sitting or lying drop-jawed and numb as the realization of another playoff failure struck them like a bolt of lightning hurled at them by you know who. At my house, we erupted from the couch in awestruck amazement and at Buffalo Wild Wing, da Boy, my progeny, ran and high-fived the few other Boston fans in the joint at the risk of physical peril.
Once the jubilation subsided, I admittedly found myself feeling a touch of sympathy for the Leaf fans, many of whom are my close friends; who sat expectantly in front of their TVs on the verge of heart attacks or who crammed themselves among thousands just outside the Air Canada Centre in Toronto; only to be let down yet again. This morning the feeling returned as I read a great article in Deadspin about the risks of raising your child as a Leafs fan entitled “This Is How Hockey Hurts“. Perhaps I should send the link to my viewing mates, who still have a chance to reprogram their young Leaf fan. Everyone says you need to lose, before you can win, but this was one helluva way to lose. I think a lot of people would have preferred they succumbed to the Big Bad Bruins in Game 6. Or maybe not. I can’t really say, not being a Leaf fan. I can tell you, I’d take a Game 7, win or lose, as a Jets fan.
Just like that, in a matter of a few hours, I’ve yet two more fantastic and not-so-fantastic memories of playoff hockey. Some of those young OHLers were distraught last night, but have plenty to look forward to. Tis the nature of the game. Real-life drama played out in real-time at breakneck speed right before your eyes. And hell, this was only Round One. The rest of the playoffs have a tough act to follow. Chances are we’ll be there watching at the edge of our seats; I type while watching the Kings and Sharks finish their first game of Round Two at 9pm PST – midnight where I’m sitting.
#imahockeydad
Disclosure: Enterprise Rent-A-Car and the NHL provided me with a gift package to host my watch party as a thank you for writing this post. However, the views and opinions expressed here are purely my own.
Find out about my own #imahockeydad giveaway at http://www.imahockeydad.com/2013/05/11/nhl-playoff-hockey-is-back-giveaway, which is open to entries until the end of Round 2 of the NHL playoffs.
p.s. Just found this link from the NHL to a video montage of 17 overtime game-winning goals from Round 1, which by the way, was a record – Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2WjExV_pBo
This is hockey….this is Canada….I wanna do this.
#imhockeydad
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2WjExV_pBo
This is hockey….this is Canada….I wanna do this.
#imhockeydad
The Devil and her Shark teammates rolled into the Nation’s capital this past weekend for our provincial championships with high hopes based on a successful regular season, but likewise some trepidation following an unflattering early exit from their league playoffs. Adding to the concern was the fact the girls had not played a meaningful game since qualifying for this provincial tournament over a month ago. There were a bunch of practices, an exhibition game against one of their provincial opponents and a fun parents/siblings vs. the Sharks game, but nothing to prepare them again for real competition. But they had played some great hockey earlier in the year and perhaps they could regain their icy mojo.
So we packed up the van for the second time in a few weeks, made a traditional pit stop at Timmies to load up on caffeine and Timbits and then hit the road for 4+ hour scenic drive on a long overdue warm spring morning.
This hockey trip started off on a pretty good foot as I found out before I left I had lucked into some tickets for a game between Canada and Finland at the World Women’s Hockey Championships, which were also being held in Ottawa over the weekend courtesy of a fortuitous tweet from Club Hockey Canada. My other life as an online marketing geek was coming in handy. We had wanted to go to the game and were offered tickets a few weeks prior, but found the prices a little dear with the games being played nearly an hour from our hotel. But free tickets were gladly welcomed. When we arrived at our hotel I was pleasantly surprised to not find just a couple, but in fact, 8 tickets to the game being played on our second night in town.
After a quick check-in, we headed to the rink for the Devil’s first game. Another bonus to this tournament was its location as all of our sides games would be played at the alma mater of both Hockey Momma and yours truly.
Returning to the scene of our “glory days” would surely resurrect some misty remembrances in both of us. As it turns out, the hockey rink our girls would be playing in did not even exist when we went to school there some 20+ years ago (as liver spots begin to burst onto my hands and my aging neck starts to stiffen). Indeed, driving onto the campus brought back a flood of memories of both a clear and somewhat foggy variety. The Devil would have to endure our recollections of “when we were here” for three straight days.
But back to game one, where the Sharks would face a team they should be able to handle based on their comparative records. Unfortunately, our side came out a little flat (which is not recommended in a short round robin schedule)….for two periods and would trail by a score of 2-0 heading into the third. They would pick up steam and the Devil would pick up a goal to cut the lead to one, but this would be all they could muster. In the final minute a great shot would ring off the post and the Devil would launch a shot which found its way between the opposing keepers pads, but not quite across the line. Game one would end 2-1 in the wrong direction forcing a must win or at least tie in the next contest. A curfew was set by the coach and all players were expected to come to the rink bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Of course, as with any away tournament, the hotel always has a central role to play in the weekend plot. In this case, the hotel’s role was one of antagonist as the Inn did not offer the Comfort it’s name suggested. The first offense being a quite loud buzzing noise coming from somewhere in or around our room. A fellow hockey dad/HVAC specialist would later help the night manager discover and temporarily correct said buzzing by slamming his fist on an electrical panel. Crude, but effective. Strike two came in the form of a much less than comfortable pull-out sofa, which I was quickly directed to by the Devil and her mother when we first entered our luxurious accommodations. Suffice it to say, I was certainly glad for being short in stature on this particular occasion. A larger man would have had a even more restless sleep than I; even with the assistance of a few hockey dad libations. The third and final nail in the two-storey motel’s coffin was a distinct lack of hot water for showers when we woke up the first morning. Apparently, this hotel did not anticipate having more than three people wanting to maintain their personal hygiene within the same one hour period. There have been a couple of occasions on hockey trips where a cold shower was warranted, but this was not one of them. This was not a good start to the team’s second tournament day.
Game two would, of course, be against stiffer competition meaning the Sharks would need to step up their effort from the previous match. Maybe the cold showers would serve to wake up those who braved them. Indeed they did skate harder for the balance of this important game. However, for a second consecutive game they would have a tough time finding the back of the net, while the solid opponents managed to bulge the twine three times. Hopes of advancing to the next round were all too quickly dashed. Game three would simply be played for pride and perhaps a chance to spoil another team’s chances (which is sometimes a small consolation).
With the gravity of game three lessened, the curfew was lifted and the Devil chose four teammates to join us at the Team Canada hockey game. Our one extra ticket went to an equally fortunate Canada (Joe from Oakville, an apparent superfan and friend of former Team Canada member Jennifer Botterill, decked out in a Team Canada jersey) who was flabbergasted when I handed it to him just before he was about to line up to buy one. A good hockey deed I am hoping doesn’t go unnoticed and gains me some favour with the Hockey Gods at some point down the road. The Provincial Championships and World Women’s Championships being in the same city at the same time was no coincidence as it seemed players from nearly every team in the province were at the Friday night match at Scotiabank Place. 
In fact, our little group was part of something historic as the crowd of 18,103 represented the largest ever to attend a women’s hockey game. A great sign for the sport moving forward. The relatively young crowd was vibrant and electric, cheering the Canadians on to an unsurprising 8-0 drubbing of the overmatched Finns. It was a great experience for our young ladies and I am indebted to Club Hockey Canada for making it happen. The unfortunate postscript being a 3-2 Canadian loss to their nemesis from the USA in the Gold Medal game a few days later. Yup, even the best in the world have their off games when expectations are high.
Not too many were early to bed in advance of game three, but we were still hopeful their pride would kick in and allow them to pull out a victory to end their season on a relatively positive note. We had beaten the same team 4-2 in an exhibition game only a week earlier, so we all knew our girls could play with them. Yet, our opponents in this game had a little more to play for as a win would secure them a spot in the next round. The match was tightly contested with a scrammbly marker registered by the bad guys mid-way through the second period. As had become par for the tournament, the Sharks offence sputtered though they had several chances turned away by a hot goaltender who made some great saves. As the game and season wound down under 90 seconds, the coach pulled his goalie in favour of an extra attacker. Shortly thereafter a puck was innocently lifted out of the opponent’s end, propped up on its edge and curled its way into the Sharks unprotected net. Make the final score of the final game in the 2012-2013 season 2-0.
Following the match, no one seemed too dismayed as their ultimate tournament fate had been realized the previous afternoon. Out in the parking lot an end of season team photo was snapped. Congratulations were given on an overall positive season. Cards and parting gifts were handed out. For one player, #18 who coincidentally turned 18 on this very day, this final game marked an end to her minor hockey career complete with the emotion we experienced with the Boy a couple of weeks back. She was presented with a jersey signed by all the players and a few appeared to have something irritating their eyes. Players, coaching staff and parents shook hands. Thankyou’s, goodbyes and good lucks were exchanged. Because, don’t ya know, the beginning of the tryouts for next season are less than a week away when friends and teammates will become rivals and competitors. I, in fact, know all too well as the joy and stress of a head coaching gig are calling my name.
The trip ended with a quick campus walk to rekindle a few more memories and then long overdue visits with a couple of close friends Momma and I had not seen in far, far too long (like we needed more reminders of how quickly time flies). As usual, a hockey tournament provided the backdrop for a much larger and significantly richer life experience to all of our personal benefits.
Next up: Tryouts aka The Coach’s Week from Hell. Stayed tuned for what is sure to be an interesting ride.
#imahockeydad
A true part of our Canadian fabric shuffled off this mortal coil earlier today, but his words and music will no doubt live on in hockey rinks around the world for years to come. Stompin’ Tom Connors’ iconic “The Hockey Song” has been played before, during and after minor, recreational and professional games for as long as any of us can remember.
My own little memory goes back to when the Boy and the Devil were a few years younger. At the start of each season I religiously created a pre-game pump up CD and every one of those new-age hockey mixed tapes started with The Hockey Song. To this day, when either play teams with pre or in-game music, the classic tune invariably and eventually rings through the rafters.
Before he died, the fine Canadian musical gentleman penned a final letter to his fans, speaking volumes to his love of Canada, its people and culture. Thanks Stompin’ Tom for providing the soundtrack to so many past and future hockey memories, which sit close to the heart of our northern nation!
#imahockeydad
In fairly stark contrast to my last entry, I am going to take less pleasure in recounting the Devil’s second round playoff series.
However, before that series started the Sharks made their way a few hours north for a “tune-up” tournament. A three-team tournament with two of the teams classified at a level above our girls. None of us were quite sure what to expect. We knew our ladies had competed at the highest level in their own division for a good part of the season, though not so much at the tail end or in their first round playoff series having barely survived to see round two. This mini-tourney could be a potentially good or bad thing. For the first two periods of the first game it felt like the latter. The girls were out-skated and out-battled for pretty much every puck. A conservative shot clock dually managed by the scorekeeper indicated only a couple of shots on net having been registered. It seemingly took until the third period for the girls to realize they could skate with this team or maybe some just needed to work off the rust of a 3+ hour drive. Either way, the game would end with ours on the wrong side of a 2-0 score, much of the credit for which could be attributed to solid goaltending.
We would see how the rest of the team would respond the following morning when they would take on the home squad. Game two felt closer, similarly had some strong goaltending, but lacked scoring punch from the visitors and ended 3-0 for the home side.
The Sharks would only have a couple of hours to recover and prepare for a rematch with their game one opponent. Advancing to the Finals of this tourney was a longshot with an 0-2 record to start, so I think we all just hoped for at least a better effort since they now knew they could compete. What we got was a complete turnaround and a mark of revenge as the girls brought their A game (pun fully intended) against dumbfounded opponents. This time around our girls were the aggressors, out-skating and out-battling their latest rivals on their way to a 2-1 victory. They would need help from the keeper again, particularly down the stretch, but they were full measure for the win and pretty pleased with themselves.
Being a mini-tourney, they actually had a slim chance to move on to the Finals with a four-goal win. They would get to sleep on it and take on their hosts again in the morning. They would sleep and parents would do “hockey-parents-at-overnight-tournament” things, which I will leave at that.
Suffice it to say, the morning came earlier and more abruptly than anyone wanted it to. We got to the rink only to find out we could have slept a little longer as someone forgot to tell the rink rat to open the joint on time. After an hour delay, game four got underway and the Sharks battled hard again. They weren’t able to secure the multi-goal victory they needed, but represented themselves well in a 0-0 draw. With an overall strong showing in the Near North, we returned home with the next playoffs series just around the corner.
Two nights later our ladies, second-place finishers from the regular season, would face-off at home against number three. During the regular season, the Sharks were able to win three times in three tries, though everyone knew their opponents were not a team to be taken lightly. Nor were they, as our side came out strong in the first match of this four-point series. They held the balance of play for much of the game and had several scoring chances. Unfortunately, all but one of those remained chances and not goals. The visitors were able to find the back of the net twice making game two a must win on the road. Post-game, I heard someone question if perhaps the girls were still a little tired from having played four games over three days during the weekend just past. Maybe a little emotionally if not physically fatigued. Regardless, they would need to come back fresh to avoid elimination.
I hoped lightning would strike twice for my kids as we coincidentally and almost fatefully returned to the scene of the Boy’s team’s successful series two capper only one day prior. Surely the girls would be able to summon the strength and bounces to pull their series even at one game apiece. Again, early on they were the stronger team recording several chances (there’s that word again) to score. Their four-goal per game pace from the early regular season was not being sustained. They entered the third period 2-1, but it still felt like a comeback was within reach. They just needed to bury a few of the opportunities they were generating. The game would indeed be knotted at two about halfway through the final frame giving everyone on our side of the glass a little hope. Hope only to be dashed a few minutes later as one of the bad guys found some open ice and fired a shot past our keeper. The same keeper was pulled from her goal with under 90 seconds left in favour of an extra attacker. But the empty net drew the attention of one more home marker. And just like that the playoff run was over. It almost didn’t seem real and certainly not fair based on the regular season success the girls had enjoyed. The only silver lining was finding out one of the Devil’s mates was credited with her first goal of the season; something she and her hockey dad had been waiting far too long for. Yet, I’m sure this was a weak consolation in light of the surprisingly quick playoff exit.
The team does have an opportunity to exact a measure of vindication with provincial playdowns still underway. They’ll need to put their disappointment behind them and focus anew on their secondary goal.
I am hopeful of being able to report more playoff highs than lows in the coming weeks for the Boy and the Devil, though either way games will be won or lost and lessons will no doubt be learned.
#imahockeydad
Is Canada’s Hockey Obsession Getting Out of Hand?
Lawrence Martin challenges the notion that Canada=Hockey and quite rightly methinks….though it does take up a fair chunk of my time.
#imahockeydad
I am self-admittedly not the most politically correct person. I’ve been known to do my fair share of chirping when engaged in sports battle. I do understand trash talk is part of many sports and I realize my 17 year-old Boy and yes, even the Devil at 15, have probably said some nasty, not-for-prime-time things on the ice in the heat of the moment. I’ve seen them both draw penalties based on what appears to be something they said. Over the last several years we’ve seen and heard about plenty of cases of objectionable conduct in hockey, among other sports. However, this weekend the Boy’s team, and specifically a teammate, experienced something in a tournament game, which can simply be described as line crossing. Gladly they weren’t the ones doing the crossing and presumably wouldn’t be . I will clearly state I was not in attendance either on the ice or even in the building, so this is being relayed from a third-person perspective. The incident, or incidents, apparently occurred during the third and must-win game against a group of American boys during the team’s participation in the International Silver Stick tourney; a 54-year old institution who’s self-stated motto is “Citizenship and International Goodwill through Silver Stick® Hockey”. During this game, one of the Boy’s teammates, whose skin is dark-coloured was repeatedly berated with racial epithets; along the lines of “f*#%ing Arab” or something thereabouts. This is not the first time he’s been a target as he’s been the Boy’s teammate for several years. He’s actually been called a “dirty Mexican” as well, which he quickly answered with a goal followed by an emphatic celebration in front of the opposing bench. A little funny in that he’s neither of Arab or Mexican descent; still not funny in its objectionable intent.
I believe this particular boy will readily admit he is a fine trash talker in his own right. However, this group of opponents were reportedly relentless in their taunts, which could be heard on the bench. Unfortunately, the barbs went unchecked by on-ice officials who were made aware on more than one occasion by the team’s coaching staff. The same staff were advised to stop complaining. The slurs continued unabated. As the final buzzer rang, the understandably frustrated target found himself trapped in the opponents end after the coach did not hold his bench as per standard post-game protocol. The boy, now outnumbered, decided to take matters into his own hands by applying a cross-check to the head of an oncoming taunter; an action which did not escape the attention of the refs who quickly awarded him a major penalty and three-game suspension. Anyone who watches hockey knows refs are always able to catch the retaliator. After the game, the coaching staff pleaded with the tournament officials to consider the circumstances surrounding the boy’s actions. Their objections to the suspension fell on deaf ears in stark contrast to the verse following the same officials’ motto on silverstick.org “We believe those words, and with the help of our Board of Directors, Tournament Directors and volunteers, we diligently work to bring those words to life with each of our Tournaments.” Again, I wasn’t there, but it seems diligence fell a bit short.
The Boy’s team, by the way, lost the game and were eliminated from playoff contention, which I realize will paint much of what I’ve written here as sour grapes. My intention however, rather than simply bemoaning a loss, is to illuminate a decidedly negative situation and hopefully encourage the Boy, the Devil, their respective teammates and anyone else willing to listen to stay far clear of lines not meant to be crossed. To hopefully reinforce the importance of showing respect on and off the ice; a notion at the heart of all sports and life in general. A more important lesson than winning or losing methinks.
I’m not naive enough to think something like this won’t happen again or that my admonitions will have any sort of lasting effect, but I figured it was enough of a story worth telling. Trust me, I would much rather be spinning stories about the game of hockey and not a bunch of negative stuff better kept on the periphery.
#imahockeydad
Hockey Night in Canada’s 60th Season feature “Footsteps” narrated by Dave Bidini @hockeyesque is sure to give every cold-blooded Canadian hockey fan goosebumps. I certainly got a heavy dose of ‘em.
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