by Sean McIndoe
Third period: Frustrated Bruins players learn that their advanced scouting report on Canucks backup goalie Cory Schneider simply says, “Try to get a penalty shot and make his groin disintegrate so Luongo has to go back in.”
Game five: Canucks 1, Bruins 0
First period: While sitting in his living room enjoying the series on TV, Tomas Kaberle gets the nagging feeling that he was supposed to be somewhere this month.
Second period: After demanding during a fiery intermission speech that the slumping Sedin brothers “look yourselves in the mirror” coach Alain Vigneault realizes that the dressing room doesn't actually have a mirror and the two brothers are just sitting across from each other staring creepily.
Third period: Roberto Luongo points out that Maxim Lapierre could never have scored that winning goal against him, in the sense that they're teammates.
Game six: Bruins 5, Canucks 2
First period: Bruins fans are widely criticized for mocking Mason Raymond as he lies on the ice with a fractured vertebra. But in fairness it's the first time they've accused an opponent of faking a broken back in, like, two months.
Second period: As he sits on the bench, an embarrassed Luongo begins to realize that the start times listed for the road games in this series are probably in Eastern time.
Third period: Bartenders in Boston start to wonder why customers keep trying to pay for drinks with bloody strips of green spandex.
Game seven: Bruins 4, Canucks 0
First period: The Bruins score the opening goal, but after a brief discussion NHL officials decide that they might as well go ahead and play the rest of the game anyway.
Second period: As the Bruins build an insurmountable lead, devastated Canuck players console themselves with the knowledge that at least they can still drive home in their luxury sports cars that they parked on the streets outside the arena.
Third period: As the closing seconds tick down, Ryan Kesler thinks ahead to which winner-take-all championship game in Vancouver he'd like to lose next.
Chapter 21
Know Your Sports: The NHL vs. Soccer
Hockey fans typically experience severe withdrawal after the end of the NHL season. But this year, rather than sitting around all summer waiting on the occasional trade news and counting down the days to training camp, why not try something new?
For example, hockey and soccer are at least somewhat similar. Both are popular around the world, both involve trying to score into an opponent's net, and both combine the brilliance of individual stars with the strategy of intricate team systems.
But while hockey fans would no doubt appreciate the spectacle of the world's most popular sport, many don't understand it. Despite the similarities between the two sports there are also several differences, many of which are subtle and could prove confusing for novice fans.
That's why I put a call out to my various international bureaus, and we put together this guide to help hockey fans follow the “beautiful game.”
Soccer: If you see a guy wearing flamboyant clothing who is struggling to communicate with you in English, he is likely a die-hard fan who has traveled from an exotic foreign land to attend the game.
Hockey: If you see a guy wearing flamboyant clothing who is struggling to communicate with you in English, he is likely Don Cherry.
Soccer: The sport is commonly called “football,” although Americans often refer to it as “soccer.”
Hockey: The sport is commonly called “hockey,” although Americans often refer to it as “something to watch if there's no baseball, football, basketball, golf, NASCAR, poker, MMA, fishing, or bowling on TV.”
Soccer: “Injury time” refers to the additional playing time added to the end of each half at the discretion of the referee.
Hockey: “Injury time” refers to lowering your head for a second when Raffi Torres is on the ice.
Soccer: Watching a game can be almost unbearable thanks to the vuvuzela, a South African noise-making horn that produces a horribly annoying noise that drones on nonstop for the entire game, leaving you fighting the urge to hurl the remote through your TV screen.
Hockey: Pierre McGuire.
Soccer: The games can start as early as 7:30 a.m., due to differences in international time zones.
Hockey: The games can start as early as 7:30 a.m., due to NBC not wanting to preempt any important infomercials or horse racing pre-game shows later that afternoon.
Soccer: In 1986, the “hand of God” sent Argentina into the World Cup semifinals at Mexico City.
Hockey: In 1993, the “hand of God” sent Marty McSorley's eyeball into the fifteenth row at Maple Leaf Gardens.
Soccer: A player will occasionally be granted a “penalty kick,” presenting him with so much open net to shoot at that he's virtually guaranteed to score as long as he doesn't miss the net or hit the post.
Hockey: The equivalent is known as “shooting against Roberto Luongo in the playoffs.”
Soccer: In an embarrassing display that any self-respecting sports fan would feel nauseated by, players will often react to even the slightest contact by pretending to be injured while rolling around pathetically on the grass.
Hockey: Completely different. The game is played on ice instead of grass.
Soccer: Riot police must often use tear gas, armored vehicles, and water cannons to subdue reckless perpetrators of violence known as “hooligans.”
Hockey: Riot police must often use tear gas, armored vehicles, and water cannons to subdue reckless perpetrators of violence known as “the Boston Bruins.”
Soccer: If you notice a player wearing a different jersey than his teammates, it's because he is the goalie.
Hockey: If you notice a player wearing a different jersey than his teammates, it's because he arrived five minutes late and his team had already done another jersey redesign.
Soccer: When a game is played under standard rules but won't have any actual impact on the final standings or eventual champion, it is known as a “friendly.”
Hockey: When a game is played under standard rules but won't have any actual impact on the final standings or eventual champion, it is known as a “Maple Leafs regular season game after mid-November.”
Chapter 22
Behind the Scenes at an NHL/NHLPA Collective Bargaining Session
Scene: Summer, 2012. A large boardroom in a New York hotel. It's a fancy room, with oak-paneled walls, cathedral-style windows, and an ornate rotating fan spinning overhead. A handwritten sign taped to the door reads: “NHL/NHLPA Super-Secret Bargaining Session.” On one side of the room sit various NHL players; on the other, several owners and team executives. Commissioner Gary Bettman and NHLPA head Donald Fehr share a podium at the front of the room.
Bettman: Can I have everyone's attention? I think it's time we get started.
Everyone settles into their seats and the room falls silent.
Bettman: OK, as we all know the current collective bargaining agreement is set to expire in September. Now, last time we had to negotiate a new CBA was back in 2004 and, it … uh … didn't go so well.
Grumbles in the audience.
Bettman: But that was then and this is now! And Donald and I both believe we can get a deal done if we can all get on the same page early.
Donald Fehr: I completely agree, Gary. We're here in the spirit of full cooperation, so let's roll up our sleeves and get to work!
Bettman: Great. OK, you know what, I'm having trouble seeing everyone. I think it would make more sense if maybe we moved that row of chairs over a bit so that we could all …
An angry murmur immediately spreads through the players.
Bettman: What? What did I say?
Brendan Shanahan (stepping forward): Uh, moving things around like that could be considered realignment. You need the players' permission first.
Bettman: Oh for …
The players quickly huddle up around Donald Fehr.
Bettman: It was a simple common-sense suggestion.
>
The players return from their huddle.
Fehr: We think everything is just fine the way it is now.
Bettman (sighing): No, it's not “just fine.” Look, we have all the Winnipeg guys sitting out in the hallway. That doesn't even make sense.
Winnipeg players (muffled, from the hallway): Sure it does!
Fehr: Look, Gary, why don't you and the owners just move on to explaining your main issue with the current CBA?
Bettman: OK, sure. Basically, we need a system that will protect owners from runaway salary inflation that could potentially damage their team's viability.
Shanahan: Uh, Gary …
Bettman: Hold on, Brendan. Like I was saying, we need the players to help us create a system where overall spending is tightly controlled, and where we all—
Shanahan: Gary?
Bettman: Not now, I'm on a roll. The players need to understand that the current system makes it simply impossible for the owners to have any control over the …
Bettman pauses.
Bettman: Is something burning?
Shanahan nudges Bettman and directs his attention to the owners' side of the room, where a large bonfire is now burning on the floor.
Bettman: Is that … is that a big pile of money?
Owners: No!
Bettman stares disapprovingly.
Owners (sheepishly): Yes.
Bettman (under his breath): Guys, we've talked about this. Why did you light a big pile of money on fire?
Sabres' owner Terry Pegula approaches, wearing a welding mask and holding a blowtorch.
Pegula: I don't know. All this talk of fiscal responsibility was getting kind of boring, so we all decided it would be fun to start setting our money on fire.
Bettman: All of you?
Pegula: Yeah. Well, except for the New Jersey guys. They're not having much luck.
Everyone looks over at the members of the Devils ownership group, who are unsuccessfully waving a lit match under a nickel.
Bettman: Wonderful.
Fehr: You see, Gary, this is the point we keep trying to make. The owners always want the players to make more concessions and agree to more restrictive rules, when all you guys need to do is just show some discipline and have each team stay within its means.
Bettman: It's not always that simple, Donald.
Fehr: It's not? Hey Olli, could you introduce yourself?
Olli Jokinen: Hi, my name is Olli Jokinen. I'm a borderline top-six forward who has never really lived up to expectations. I'm scheduled to be an unrestricted free agent this summer, so I'll be—
Jokinen is interrupted by the owners, who immediately start squealing and throwing wadded-up bills at him.
Fehr: See?
Bettman: OK, that's one example.
Fehr: Pavel?
Pavel Kubina: Hi, I'm a defenseman in his mid-thirties whose best years are well behind him. I was a healthy scratch in the playoffs, and I'll also be an unrestricted free agent if nobody—
Kubina is interrupted when a dump truck backs into the room and buries him under a pile of money.
Shea Weber: Wow, this is amazing!
Weber excitedly rushes to the front of the room.
Weber: Hi, everyone! I'm arguably the best defenseman in the entire league, and I'm still in my prime. I'll be a restricted free agent, so I can sign an offer sheet with absolutely anyone!
The room falls silent. A tumbleweed blows by.
Weber: OH, COME ON!
Bettman (drumming his fingers innocently): Gosh, what an odd coincidence how that keeps happening.
Fehr: Yes, very odd.
Bettman: While we're at it, the owners are also demanding that we do something about long-term contracts. These front-loaded contracts for double-digit years have to end.
Fehr: What exactly is the issue with those deals?
Bettman: They circumvent the spirit of the salary cap, and what's worse, they upset competitive balance.
Paul Holmgrem (leaping to his feet): Yeah! The Flyers were stuck with both Mike Richards and Jeff Carter on long-term deals, and we had to trade them both so we could finally try to contend for a championship!
Bettman: Um, Paul …
Holmgrem: I mean, how could you ever win anything when you're stuck with two guys like that?
Everyone stares at him uncomfortably.
Holmgrem (eventually): I've been in the bathroom for three months. Did I miss anything?
Bettman: Um … we'll get you caught up later.
Holmgrem: Cool. By the way, the men's room is out of toilet paper.
Pegula (producing a roll of thousand-dollar bills): I'll take care of it.
Fehr: Sorry, Gary, no deal. The players have to look out for their best interests.
Bettman: Well, Donald, the owners need to look out for our best interests.
Bettman and Fehr go nose-to-nose.
Fehr: Players!
Bettman: Owners!
Shanahan: Hey, does anyone else get the weird feeling that we're forgetting somebody in all of this?
Fehr: Players!
Bettman: Owners!
Shanahan: I just can't quite put my finger on it …
There's a sudden crash as the large rotating fan plummets to the floor in the center of the room.
Shanahan: Wow, that fan is just completely devastated!
Shanahan realizes that nobody else even noticed.
Shanahan: Um, guys?
The players are busy frolicking in the dump truck full of money. The owners are feeding the contents of their wallets into a shredder to see who can make the biggest pile. Bettman and Fehr, now wearing war paint, are circling each other menacingly.
Shanahan: Hmmm …
Shanahan stares at the fan. Or, to put it more accurately, the ex-fan.
Shanahan: Oh well, I'm sure it's not all that important.
Chapter 23
Other Complaints about Brendan Shanahan
Brendan Shanahan may have the most thankless job in hockey. After an initial honeymoon period that faded quickly, the NHL's senior vice-president of player safety and hockey operations spent most of his first year on the job coming under heavy fire over his rulings on player discipline.
Don Cherry was one of the first to pile on the new sheriff, but he was hardly alone. Shanahan had plenty of critics in the media, reports indicated that some general managers were uncomfortable with his rulings, and plenty of fans voiced their concerns.
At the very least, you might assume that Shanahan's discipline decisions are the only area where he is feeling the heat. But you'd be wrong. According to my top-secret sources, the hockey world has a long list of issues and grievances with Shanahan that date back to the early days of his career.
Here's a sample of some of the hockey world's other complaints about Brendan Shanahan.
In a cruel practical joke, spent his entire rookie year with the Devils whispering moronic coaching strategies into the ear of sleeping roommate John MacLean.
Completely screwed up his shoot-out attempt at the Nagano Olympics when he failed to be Wayne Gretzky.
Has been an NHL VP for almost two years now and has spent lots of time with Gary Bettman, yet has apparently still not taken him aside and convinced him to stop doing that “get overly defensive and make the whole press conference uncomfortable” thing.
Whenever I get a penalty I don't agree with and then do the secret signal where I tug on my ear three times in the penalty box, the referee still has a job the next day. (Submitted by Gregory Campbell.)
People are always going on and on about him having the second-most career goals by a left-winger, as if somebody's politics should be part of the story.
He was supposed to be this noble tough guy who'd always stick up for a teammate, but when Claude Lemieux drilled Kris Draper into the boards from behind all he did was make excuses about how he “wasn't on the ice” and “didn't see the hit” and “was actually playing for the Hartford Whalers that year.”
> He signed a very fair and reasonable contract with Glen Sather and the New York Rangers as an unrestricted free agent in 2006, so he's obviously the world's worst negotiator.
Whenever you walk up to him and say, “Hey, nice belt, but I would have thought you'd be more into suspenders!” and then punch him playfully on the shoulder and laugh hysterically, he just stares at you like you're some kind of idiot.
Oh sure, those videos he makes to explain his suspension decisions are nice, but how about dialing back the enthusiasm a little there, Mr. Electricity! (Submitted by Sidney Crosby.)
He was traded straight up for both a young Chris Pronger and a young Scott Stevens at different points in his career, so who's really causing the head injuries around here, Brendan?