I will never claim to be psychic. I cannot see into the future, but it doesn't require a clairvoyant to see that the NHL will start its fourth lockout in a matter of hours. I have to admit, this is a bit depressing. I love the sport of hockey. I might have come late in life to this deep, heartfelt appreciation, but it is with me now. I take the first Pens game of the season off from work. I rearranged my schedule to watch the Kings win the Stanley Cup. I buy temporary tattoos to wear when I'm really in need of a pick me up. There is no reasoning with it, it is love, plain and simple, and that love is about to be tested.
Among other things that I love with the same sort of passion: the New Orleans Saints, equestrian sports, and the Tour de France. I'll admit to being able to branch out when it comes to equestrian. I am a primarily English rider who specializes in dressage, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate pole bending. Heck, I took my 16.3 Thoroughbred mare to a gaming show and we placed in everything except key hole, where she dumped me in living terror of just what might be hiding in the middle of those poles. As for cycling, despite the doping scandals that continue to rock it, I haven't given up hope. I still love watching the sheer grit that is required to make it through. I admire the talent of a mountain climber, and the heart of a domestique. I have taken to following the sport on a broader stage for the simple reason of lockouts.
When the NFL went into a lockout last year, I couldn't quite accept it. Then I went to Europe for two months and became fascinated by more than my narrow little world. It wasn't until September arrived that I began to feel the depression start to sink in. True, the lockout was ended before the season really began (preseason will forever be epitomized for me by that NFL network commercial: "I don't care that it's preseason, the Raiders are 4-0!" "Yeah Raiders!") but it still left a sour taste in my mouth. Add that on to the fact that the team of my football loving heart lost to the 49ers, with me screaming for two straight minutes: "Defense, don't give up the big play over the center!" to no avail. Then there was the Super Bowl. NY Giants fan I will never, ever be and as my dad is a Pats fan, so, too, am I. As if things couldn't get any worse, the Saints had Bountygate fall on their heads in the midst of playing some craven game of chicken with the heart and soul of their team, my favorite player in the sport: Drew Brees. The season kicked off last week. I missed the game. I even missed the Saints lose to the freaking Washington Redskins. Monday night, I was working and had no desire to rearrange my schedule for either game. This Thursday, it came as a surprise that there was a game at all. This Sunday? Who knows, but the passion is all but gone.
And so this is where I sit with hockey. If they push this bunch of horseradish (love this new phrase I found yesterday. Sorry to whoever coined it, I don't remember where I read it) on into the season, I'm afraid my love and devotion will be tested. I am genuinely concerned I will come away as jaded and apathetic as I am about football. I hope it isn't so, but that doesn't stop the fear, and the only way to keep the fear from being a reality? To have a season, and quickly.
BlytheLea
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
The Elephant in the Room
The elephant in the room rides a bicycle.
Okay, so I admit to some naivety when it comes to sports. I firmly believe in Innocent Until Proven Guilty. Books based on here say or testimonials to athletes caught lying just don't could for real, beyond a reasonable doubt, proof. So call me a child, left in my imaginary world, or call me any of the names being thrown about in the internet right about now. Until I see the proof, I will continue to view Lance Armstrong as a great athlete who has done truly remarkable things with his life and his fame. My family has seen two members suffer through cancer. One survived, the other did not. We still believe in the message of LiveStrong, and we always will. End of discussion.
In regards to the sporting world in general, PEDs are something that athletes will continue to abuse. So long as we demand they be better than we are, they will seek to be just that, even when their bodies can no longer answer the call. No sport is immune. The scandals of baseball are well documented, so, too, cycling. Football has its fair share of finger pointing and suspensions. Besides Bountygate, New Orleans was hit by the diuretic outbreak in the form of half the starting defensive line. And then there was that here say article in Sports Illustrated about a dangerous doctor and his connection to the Washington Capitals. No sport is safe. No athlete is safe, but so long as we refuse to admit any sort of human weakness in our athletes, they will strive to cheat the system. It has become a way of life. There might be those out there clamoring for everyone to "come clean", but that will no more happen than these sudden turnabouts are merely conscience driven. I may be naive, but I am not stupid, and neither is the general population.
So, what then becomes the solution? We need to accept weakness. We need to learn to accept failure. No one can be perfect day in and day out. Get used to it. So the mountains of the Tour de France made Alberto Contador bonk. There will be another day for him without his beef. So 82 games in a season is brutal. There comes a point when the fourth line becomes invaluable to a hockey team. And a loss is not the end of the world. Learn to accept failure, take it with the success, and maybe, just maybe, we will start to see cleaner sports.
BlytheLea L.E.
Okay, so I admit to some naivety when it comes to sports. I firmly believe in Innocent Until Proven Guilty. Books based on here say or testimonials to athletes caught lying just don't could for real, beyond a reasonable doubt, proof. So call me a child, left in my imaginary world, or call me any of the names being thrown about in the internet right about now. Until I see the proof, I will continue to view Lance Armstrong as a great athlete who has done truly remarkable things with his life and his fame. My family has seen two members suffer through cancer. One survived, the other did not. We still believe in the message of LiveStrong, and we always will. End of discussion.
In regards to the sporting world in general, PEDs are something that athletes will continue to abuse. So long as we demand they be better than we are, they will seek to be just that, even when their bodies can no longer answer the call. No sport is immune. The scandals of baseball are well documented, so, too, cycling. Football has its fair share of finger pointing and suspensions. Besides Bountygate, New Orleans was hit by the diuretic outbreak in the form of half the starting defensive line. And then there was that here say article in Sports Illustrated about a dangerous doctor and his connection to the Washington Capitals. No sport is safe. No athlete is safe, but so long as we refuse to admit any sort of human weakness in our athletes, they will strive to cheat the system. It has become a way of life. There might be those out there clamoring for everyone to "come clean", but that will no more happen than these sudden turnabouts are merely conscience driven. I may be naive, but I am not stupid, and neither is the general population.
So, what then becomes the solution? We need to accept weakness. We need to learn to accept failure. No one can be perfect day in and day out. Get used to it. So the mountains of the Tour de France made Alberto Contador bonk. There will be another day for him without his beef. So 82 games in a season is brutal. There comes a point when the fourth line becomes invaluable to a hockey team. And a loss is not the end of the world. Learn to accept failure, take it with the success, and maybe, just maybe, we will start to see cleaner sports.
BlytheLea L.E.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Love is a Funny Thing
As an NHL lockout seems to grow in its inevitibility, I am forced to take stock on just what this might mean. I don't mean that in regards to hockey in general. There are the obvious issues. After all, the lockout means no money for anyone, owners, players, coaches, ice crews, trainers, etc, etc. No, while I will admit to having considered the farther reaching aspects of what this lockout could mean to the budding hockey world in general, right about now I am locked in on selfish reasons only.
I'll admit, I was not always the die hard fan I am today. I once considered reading through the fine print in the Seattle newspaper to find the Penguins games as keeping touch. Granted, they sucked back then, and a win was a painful rarity. I distinctly recall the last lock out, but not for the obvious reasons. I remember what happened in 2005 for what came after: Sidney Crosby. When you have a free subscription to Sports Illustrated, it is hard not to catch the bigger issues, and Sid the Kid was one. I began to slowly follow a little more, but living in the middle of nowhere with no satelite or cable, I was reduced to newspapers and dial up internet. It didn't mean much, but as time went on, it ceased to be enough. Luckily, we gained satelite in that time, and I began to watch a game or two. then that moment occured in my life that changed everything: my best friend's wedding. Now, most people would not consider their best friend's wedding as something to make a die hard hockey fan out of anyone, but it did just that for me. Reduced to wearing an orange dress with a pink sash amongst total strangers, I was desperate for something to take my mind off things. That something was hockey. The year? 2009.
I had been building to becoming a full fledged hockey nut over the long course of about five years, but it came into full bloom as Sid, Geno, Flower, and Max worked their way to that fateful Stanley Cup Final. I had watched them lose the year before, I had watched as they struggled to find their stride, but now I was watching as though my very life depended on it. In a way, it kind of did. I made a deal that if they could come from behind, being at a 0-2 defecit to the Red Wings in the Final, that I would suck it up, grin and bear it, and otherwise not complain about the dress, the reception, or the strangers. I chewed my nails off as the Pens rallied to win Games 3 and 4, was luckily busy elsewhere with wedding plans for the disasterous Game 5, and cheered until I was hoarse for Jordan Staal in Game 6. Then came Game 7. Unable to take it, both the leave from work and the stress, I went to my job. It was a busy day, and for a few blissful minutes I was too busy to realize that the Pens fate and my happiness was being decided. Then I checked, almost too rattled to read, but they had done it, they had won! That night, I watched highlights until one in the morning, basking in the happiness of Max's goals, Flower's last minute saves, Scudederi's amazing defense, and Geno's joy as he launched himself onto a pile of teammates with tears in his eyes. I'll never forget that day, those playoffs, or those players. Even if Scuds went to LA, even if Max did the unthinkable and became a Flyer. That team will stay with me, as it will with many Pens fans. They were my salvation, and what got me trhough.
Now, the obvious question arises of what this has to do with anything now, three and a half years later. As the lockout looms, it would seem not much, but for every true fan, there is a similar moment in their life, when they look at the Pens and think, they're MY team. True, Geno has agreed to play at his home town of Magnitogorsk should (when) the lockout happens. Rumor has it Sid is interested too. What a trip that would be if they played together. It would be enough to make me want to save up for a plane ticket, a hotel room, and a travel visa, just to make my way on trains that only run every other day in and out of the Pittsburgh of Russia to watch my favorite players play their favorite sport. If only the KHL teams offered package deals to frustrated NHL fans. Imagine, the WHL and AHL are bound to increase tickets sales this year. We fans are desperate, and if the NHL cannot deliver, well, we'll simply have to find another way. That is what hockey is to those of us who are more than bandwagon fans. We don't care if our team wins or loses, though we much prefer the wins. We just want to see them play, and that, above all else, is what will get us through the coming months. Our sense of optimism will have us chekcing the news every morning and again every night. For a league that is concerned for their players in regards to the Olympics, it seems a wanton waste to let them leave the country now just so they can continue to play. The NHL and NHLPA might say it's about finding common ground, but let's be honest, it's about the money, and that is something most fans have a hard time relating to. The difference between 57% and 43% might be astronomical to both sides, but to us, it's a number we will never see in our bank accounds. So, as I am forced to consider funneling my hard earned money into a plane ticket to Russia, I have to stop and wonder, just how many games at home would that be? Just imagine the money Magnitogorsk could make if they had Sid and Geno. Regardless of the number, its more than the Pens are looking to make right now, and that is a tradgedy.
I'll admit, I was not always the die hard fan I am today. I once considered reading through the fine print in the Seattle newspaper to find the Penguins games as keeping touch. Granted, they sucked back then, and a win was a painful rarity. I distinctly recall the last lock out, but not for the obvious reasons. I remember what happened in 2005 for what came after: Sidney Crosby. When you have a free subscription to Sports Illustrated, it is hard not to catch the bigger issues, and Sid the Kid was one. I began to slowly follow a little more, but living in the middle of nowhere with no satelite or cable, I was reduced to newspapers and dial up internet. It didn't mean much, but as time went on, it ceased to be enough. Luckily, we gained satelite in that time, and I began to watch a game or two. then that moment occured in my life that changed everything: my best friend's wedding. Now, most people would not consider their best friend's wedding as something to make a die hard hockey fan out of anyone, but it did just that for me. Reduced to wearing an orange dress with a pink sash amongst total strangers, I was desperate for something to take my mind off things. That something was hockey. The year? 2009.
I had been building to becoming a full fledged hockey nut over the long course of about five years, but it came into full bloom as Sid, Geno, Flower, and Max worked their way to that fateful Stanley Cup Final. I had watched them lose the year before, I had watched as they struggled to find their stride, but now I was watching as though my very life depended on it. In a way, it kind of did. I made a deal that if they could come from behind, being at a 0-2 defecit to the Red Wings in the Final, that I would suck it up, grin and bear it, and otherwise not complain about the dress, the reception, or the strangers. I chewed my nails off as the Pens rallied to win Games 3 and 4, was luckily busy elsewhere with wedding plans for the disasterous Game 5, and cheered until I was hoarse for Jordan Staal in Game 6. Then came Game 7. Unable to take it, both the leave from work and the stress, I went to my job. It was a busy day, and for a few blissful minutes I was too busy to realize that the Pens fate and my happiness was being decided. Then I checked, almost too rattled to read, but they had done it, they had won! That night, I watched highlights until one in the morning, basking in the happiness of Max's goals, Flower's last minute saves, Scudederi's amazing defense, and Geno's joy as he launched himself onto a pile of teammates with tears in his eyes. I'll never forget that day, those playoffs, or those players. Even if Scuds went to LA, even if Max did the unthinkable and became a Flyer. That team will stay with me, as it will with many Pens fans. They were my salvation, and what got me trhough.
Now, the obvious question arises of what this has to do with anything now, three and a half years later. As the lockout looms, it would seem not much, but for every true fan, there is a similar moment in their life, when they look at the Pens and think, they're MY team. True, Geno has agreed to play at his home town of Magnitogorsk should (when) the lockout happens. Rumor has it Sid is interested too. What a trip that would be if they played together. It would be enough to make me want to save up for a plane ticket, a hotel room, and a travel visa, just to make my way on trains that only run every other day in and out of the Pittsburgh of Russia to watch my favorite players play their favorite sport. If only the KHL teams offered package deals to frustrated NHL fans. Imagine, the WHL and AHL are bound to increase tickets sales this year. We fans are desperate, and if the NHL cannot deliver, well, we'll simply have to find another way. That is what hockey is to those of us who are more than bandwagon fans. We don't care if our team wins or loses, though we much prefer the wins. We just want to see them play, and that, above all else, is what will get us through the coming months. Our sense of optimism will have us chekcing the news every morning and again every night. For a league that is concerned for their players in regards to the Olympics, it seems a wanton waste to let them leave the country now just so they can continue to play. The NHL and NHLPA might say it's about finding common ground, but let's be honest, it's about the money, and that is something most fans have a hard time relating to. The difference between 57% and 43% might be astronomical to both sides, but to us, it's a number we will never see in our bank accounds. So, as I am forced to consider funneling my hard earned money into a plane ticket to Russia, I have to stop and wonder, just how many games at home would that be? Just imagine the money Magnitogorsk could make if they had Sid and Geno. Regardless of the number, its more than the Pens are looking to make right now, and that is a tradgedy.
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