HEY MIKEY, THE HABS LOVE YOU!

Last year the Montreal Canadiens finished last in the Eastern Conference.  The reason:  No player named Mike, or Michel or Mikhail was on the roster for any length of time after Mike Cammalleri was traded away in January.   You can look it up (but don't bother, I already did).   The Habs have a history of  underperforming unless there's a Mike around.  I'm pretty sure that's why they brought back Michel (Mike) Therrien as coach this year.  Yesterday, they brought back Michael Ryder in a trade.   And where are the Habs today?  That's right, first place.   Coincidence?   I don't think so.  Without a "Mike", the Habs don't stand a chance.
     Don't believe me?  The Habs had lots of Mikes when they were making the playoffs over the past decade or so, but back in the late 90s early 2000s, they went three straight years without making the post-season.  That's because there were no Mikes in those years (except for Therrien, who was hired midway through 2000-2001, but by then it was too late.)   Go back a little further, and there was always a Keane or a McPhee or a Lalor on the roster, and they won Stanley Cups in 1993, and before that, 1985.    Then there was a gap of no "Mikes" in the early 80s, and even though the Habs made the post-season, they were bounced in the opening round three years in a row, sans Mikes.     When they were winning Stanley Cups in the 70s, the Habs always had a Michel as a backup goalie.  Larocque, and before him, Plasse.   And in the late 60s early 70s there was always "Mickey" Redmond looming as a potential superstar, the closest thing to a Mike there is.
     You've got to go back to 1967-68 to find a successful Montreal team that DIDN'T have a Mike.   Mind you, there weren't a lot of them back in the 60s on any roster.  Mike Walton was the only other one I can think of.    So, ever since the name "Mike" became popular in the NHL, the Habs have needed at least one in order to have a successful season and playoff run.   Somebody in the front office must've realized it.  Maybe it was Marc Bergevin, the G.M., who lamented the lack of a Mike after Cammy was traded away.  He realized the power of Mike, so he re-hired Therrien, and "voila".   Now, with the re-acquisition of Ryder, who knows what's next?    Will the Habs go after Ribiero, Kommisarek, maybe even "Mike" Grabovski?   Perhaps Mike Richards, Michael Grabner or even Mikko Koivu?   Sounds like a plan.  Statistics don't lie.
   

A CANADIAN OF CONVENIENCE.

For those who believe that all Canadians are created equal, you haven't been paying attention to the sports news.  Oh, when it comes to representing Canada in hockey, we have no problem getting the best of the best.  Mind you, the NHL season is rarely interrupted by a world tournament, which means our best players are usually available.   Not so for basketball, and certainly not for baseball.   This spring, Canada will play in the World Baseball Championships, or WBC.  In 2006, they got in two games before being eliminated by Mexico.   In 2009, they lost their only two games, one of them to Italy.   And this year, they have a weak roster that was supposed to have Toronto-born Russell Martin playing catcher, but he has opted out at the last minute, and that has a lot of folks waving the Canadian flag, accusing Martin of being unpatriotic.
     Let's get one thing straight.  Just because a guy was born in Canada doesn't necessarily mean he'll embrace everything Canadian.  Russell Martin spent more time in France and the United States during his 30 years on this earth than he did in Canada.  The only reason he's desirable to this country is because he can play baseball.   Yes, he has family here, but unlike a Canadian born hockey player who toils for a U.S. team, Martin doesn't come back to Canada and wave the flag during his off-season.   Besides, last November, he said he'd be happy to play for Canada, but he wanted to play shortstop.   We all had a good laugh over that one, but the reality is, Martin CAN play the position and since Canada has no experienced shortstop on it's roster, why not Martin?  
      When it seemed apparent that Baseball Canada wouldn't go for that, and the likelihood that Martin's new team, the Pittsburgh Pirates, didn't like the idea either, Martin removed himself from the Canadian roster, just like he did in 2006, when he initially committed to the WBC, but later opted to go to spring training with the Dodgers instead.   Let's face it, the WBC isn't that big a deal for Martin and dozens of other major leaguers.  It's unlikely that Joey Votto will play for Canada.  Ryan Dempster has already said "no".  Same for pitchers Jeff Francis, Rich Harden and Scott Diamond, all of whom have major league experience.  Catcher George Kottaras declined to play for Canada.  So too did outfielder Jason Bay.  Granted, none of them committed to the team and then changed their minds at a late date, but Russell Martin had already said he wanted to play shortstop.  The fact that he wasn't taken seriously, and  was EXPECTED to put on the tools of ignorance and climb behind the plate illustrates one of the problems facing Baseball Canada.  If G.M. Greg Hamilton KNEW Martin wouldn't catch, why didn't he make alternative arrangements?    And besides, what's wrong with Martin playing short instead of Cale Iorg, who hit below the Mendoza line last year in AAA?
     Martin is a parttime Canadian at best.  He happened to be born here, but doesn't embrace his Canuck roots the way others do.   He just happens to be a major league catcher, and Canada needed a catcher for the WBC, so they penciled Martin in.   If you ask me, Canada Baseball was using Martin, and I guess he didn't want to be used that way.  Squatting behind the plate for a living is one thing.  Squatting behind the plate for a country that you have no feeling for is ridiculous.    Having said that, I expect Martin will get plenty of boos from Canadians who feel he is spitting on the Maple Leaf by refusing to represent his (former) country.    Maybe he should talk to Greg Rusedski or Lennox Lewis.   They know what it's like to be snubbed by their former compatriots.

TAKE A BOW, DANICA.

I'll admit that I'm not a Gearhead, but I do respect any competitor who defies the odds and wins.   In other words, I love a good story.   Danica Patrick is a good story, and even better one now that she became the highest finishing female in a NASCAR Sprint Cup race.  I even watched MOST of the coverage of the Daytona 500 yesterday, something I rarely do.  I wanted to see Danica.   Did I care that Jimmy Johnson won the race?  Jimmy who?   His win was completely overshadowed by the lady who finished 8th, but was running third into the final lap.  I honestly thought she had a chance of WINNING.  I'm sure others did too.
Danica Patrick is a superstar and a wealthy one at that.  She had detractors,  as did many of her trail blazing female predecessors. Babe Didrikson-Zaharias,  Billie Jean King, Shirley "Cha Cha" Muldowney, Julie Krone and countless others who were told to "put an apron on and do women's work".   Danica Patrick was the first woman to win the pole position at Daytona.  She was the first woman to lead a lap at Daytona, and her 8th place finish is the highest of any woman.  Her sponsor, Go Daddy, is thrilled.  The auto racing community is buzzing.   Her name exploded on social media yesterday and it continues today.   Think about it.  She's already finished third at the Indianapolis 500, and is the only woman ever to win an Indy Car race.  Yesterday was only her 11th in the NASCAR Sprint Cup series after racing 59 times in the "Junior Circuit", the NASCAR Nationwide series.  And she's only 30 years old.   Her story just gets better.
      Unfortunately, the concussion story in the NHL is starting to get depressing.  After suffering through the loss of Sidney Crosby (who's still one hard hit away from you-know-what), the Pittsburgh Penguins have lost their other top gun, Evgeni Malkin, with a concussion.    In fact, several of the NHLs young stars are being concussed at an alarming rate.  Jeff Skinner, like Malkin is out indefinitely.  St. Louis rookie sensation Vladamir Tarsenko was concussed the other night.  Calder Trophy winner Gabriel Landeskog  missed 11 games with a concussion, and made his return Saturday against L.A.   That's good news because the Avs have four other players out with concussions, including stud defenseman Erik Johnson.  On the Rangers, Michael Sauer and Darroll Powe are out.  Ryan Carter of the Devils is another.   All with head injuries.  And it's not just the result of a good hard bodycheck (of which there are many).  Malkin's injury was a result of falling hard into the end boards.  The same type of injury ended the career of Hall of Famer Michel Goulet.  I'm worried.  Last year there were an alarming number of concussions.  This year, more of the same.  And it's taking out our best young players.   Something must be done.  But what?

I STILL BELIEVE IN MIRACLES.

33 years ago, on a Friday night in the little town of Lake Plaid N.Y., I was one of 8500 spectators crammed into the Olympic Center to watch the U.S.A. take on Russia in the Olympic Men's Hockey semi-finals.  I know that millions have claimed they were at that game, but they weren't.  I was.  I was there.  I even have the ticket to prove it.  And the memories.
     I was working for CJFM Radio in Montreal at the time.  Lake Placid was an hour and a half from my apartment, and I was down there quite often covering the Olympics and then heading back to do my radio shows.  I had been closely following the Canadian men's team, but they played terribly in this tournament and finished sixth.   Later, players such as Paul MacLean, Randy Gregg, Glenn Anderson and Tim Watters would go on to have stellar NHL careers, but in the Olympics their team was awful.    The Americans, on the other hand, were an up and coming bunch of college kids who appeared to have no chance, despite beating the Czechs and tying the Swedes in the preliminary round.  The day before the Russian game, New York Times columnist Dave Anderson wrote: "Unless the ice melts, or unless the United States team or another team performs a miracle, as did the American squad in 1960, the Russians are expected to easily win the Olympic gold medal for the sixth time in the last seven tournaments."
    The game took place at 5 pm local time, although ABC TV in the U.S. tried to get the Russians to agree to a time change for the game.  ABC wanted it shown in prime time, at 8 pm, but the Russians wouldn't budge.  At 5 pm eastern time, it would be 1 a.m. Saturday morning in Moscow when the puck was dropped, which would allow millions of Russians to see it.    CTV broadcast the game "live", but ABC decided to run it on tape delay at 8 pm on that Friday night.   Millions who saw it on ABC thought the game was being played live, even though it had been over for three hours.
     I was seated in the last row of the arena, a sort-of auxiliary press box.    Looking back, there were not a lot of journalists covering this event.  Nothing like today.   A few TV stations, a few writers were present, but not a lot of Canadians were in tune for this game.   And since Canada had been eliminated, I became a U.S. supporter, as much because of my dislike for the Russians than anything else.  (They were about to invade Afghanistan, which would cause the Americans and others to boycott the 1980 Summer Games in Moscow).   And don't forget, the Russians had been beating up on NHL teams in exhibition games, and had won just about every World Championship and Olympic tournament for a quarter century.  They appeared invincible. 
       I remember a strange buzz in the arena that night, although no one knew we would be witnesses to history.  The Russians came out fast and scored the first goal of the game, but the plucky Americans hung in there, and fans were starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, the Americans wouldn't get blown out (as they had a few weeks earlier at Madison Square Garden, losing 10-3).     With the U.S. trailing 2-1 and the first period about to expire, Vladislav Tretiak misplayed a long shot and allowed Mark Johnson to score on the rebound with ONE SECOND left on the clock.     That made it 2-2 after one, and the buzz got a lot louder.   And then, we were shocked when the Russians came out for the second period and Tretiak was NOT in the net.   Myshkin had taken his place.  What was going on?   The greatest goalie on the planet gets yanked in the Olympic semi-final?  Coach Viktor Tikhonov must be crazy.     And even though Myshkin didn't allow a goal in the second (he only faced two U.S. shots), his team led 3-2 going into the third.
     And then, something amazing happened.   Rather than sitting on their hands, waiting for the inevitable (and perhaps remembering that 10-3 pasting a few weeks earlier), the fans in the Olympic Center began chanting "U.S.A. U.S.A.".   It was the first time I had heard that chant, and the American players responded during a power play as Johnson scored to tie the game 3-3.   The place went even crazier a few minutes later when Mike Eruzione gave the U.S. the lead.    Unbelievable!    The Americans were beating the Soviets in Ice Hockey at the Olympics.  Wild!    The Soviets did not know how to play from behind, and had obviously underestimated the Americans.    They began to shoot wildly, very un-Soviet like.   As the minutes ticked down (excruciatingly slow) we all came to the realization that this could actually happen.   I don't recall sitting down for the final ten minutes of the game.    And in the final minute, down a goal, the Soviets STILL didn't pull their goalie for an extra attacker.  Weird.  
        I never did hear Al Michael's call on ABC (not live, anyway, but I did watch the "tape delay" later on.  Bernie Pascall called the game "live" on CTV, but he didn't have the "Do you believe in miracles?" line that  made Michaels famous.     All I remember is hugging the guy next to me and his girlfriend, standing in the arena for a long time taking it all in, and then realizing that I had to get down to the dressing rooms to do my job.    Bedlam.  Chaos.   The U.S. had beaten the Russians.     But wait, there was still the gold medal game to be played on Sunday.   I interviewed Herb Brooks, the U.S. coach, Eruzione, the captain and  Jim Craig, the shy, reserved goalie.   "Do you think you can win the gold medal on Sunday?" I asked.  "We'd better" said Brooks.    And they did.   They beat Finland 4-2 after trailing 2-1 entering the third period to win the gold medal, but it was anti-climactic.   The Miracle On Ice 33 years ago would go down in history as the greatest sports upset ever.   And it seems like only yesterday.
 

FAREWELL TO A GREAT OWNER AND A PRETTY FAIR COACH.

Los Angeles Lakers owner Dr. Jerry Buss died Monday at the age of 80.  It's unlikely we'll ever see another pro sports owner like him. He might be the best pro sports owner of all time.   He was fabulously wealthy, flamboyant, incredibly loyal and wanted nothing more than to beat the Boston Celtics. That was good enough for Laker fans.   Buss hadn't seen his Lakers underperform this season due to an undisclosed form of cancer.  Last night, however, he was there in spirit as the Lakers beat those hated Celtics at the Staples Center in L.A after a stirring pre-game ceremony to honour their late leader.
     When Buss bought the Lakers in 1979, he was part of the "new breed" of sports owners who were willing to spend the money in order to get a champion. He purchased the Lakers, the L.A. Kings, the Forum, and a large ranch from Jack Kent Cooke for a reported $67 million.  I can't imagine what those properties would be worth today.    In his first draft, he grabbed Ervin "Magic" Johnson, and "Showtime" in Los Angeles was born.  Buss believed that basketball games had to provide an entertainment value that the game only couldn't provide.  Soon, stars like Jack Nicholson and Dyan Cannon were regulars at courtside and in the "Laker Club" at the Forum.    The Laker girls were shapely cheerleaders, similar to the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders.   Soon, the Lakers were becoming "America's Team" with Johnson, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, James Worthy and coach Pat Riley, who wore expensive suits and slicked back hair.   The Lakers won the NBA title in Buss' first season as owner, and then went on to win 4 more titles in the next 8 years.  Not bad at all.  Then, in the 2000s, five more titles under coach Phil Jackson.  In all, ten NBA titles and 16 appearances in the Finals for Buss' Lakers.  Kobe Bryant said it best last night "On Monday, we lost what we know to be the greatest owner in sports, ever," Bryant said. "He was a brilliant, incredible owner, and he was even a better person, with a great heart. His vision has transcended the game; we are all — all — spoiled by his vision, and by his drive to win year after year after year."  The Lakers wore patches with the initials "JB" on them.   Perhaps his vision will spur the Lakers to a playoff spot this year.
       Yesterday, the Buffalo Sabres fired a pretty good coach.  Lindy Ruff didn't win any Stanley Cups in his almost 15 years behind the Sabres bench, but he did compile a winning percentage of .560 in the regular season and .564 in the playoffs.  Only once, prior to this season, did his team fail to reach the .500 mark.   But except for the Brett Hull goal in the 1999 Cup final that saw Dallas beat Buffalo, Ruff never made it to the final and, of course, never won a Stanley Cup.   Nevertheless, just like Kobe Bryant played for only one owner, Jerry Buss, many Buffalo Sabres have only played for one coach.   Ryan Miller, Jason Pominville and Tomas Vanek were all shocked when they found out that Ruff had been fired.  In fact, the Sabres players were on the bus about to head to Toronto yesterday when Ruff poked his head in, and told them he had been fired.  All the players got off the bus, embraced their former coach, wept, and got back on the bus and back to business.  It must've been incredibly difficult for all.
        Ruff was the second-longest tenured coach in pro sports next to Gregg Popovich of the San Antonio Spurs.  Most of the time, he had to deal with an owner that didn't want to spend the money to get  good players.  Only when Terry Pegula bought the team last year did the Sabres start spending money.  Unfortunately, that didn't help the Sabres on the ice, and since Pegula promised the team would be of championship calibre, he had no choice but to let Ruff go.    And if you thought 15 years without a championship was too long to keep a coach, consider that the Utah Jazz kept Jerry Sloan as their head coach for 24 years and won zero titles.   The Chicago Blackhawks had Billy Reay behind the bench for 14 years and never won a Stanley Cup.   In baseball, Connie Mack was the manager of the Philadelphia A's for 53 years, but didn't win a World Series over his final 19 seasons.  Of course, he owned the team, so he wasn't about to fire himself.   As for Lindy Ruff, he won't be unemployed for very long.  He is highly respected around the NHL by players, fans and other coaches.    The same respect and admiration was true for Jerry Buss.   One is gone forever, but the other has many more good years ahead of him.

THE TOUGHEST DECISION A COACH HAS TO MAKE.

In sports, there are starters and there are backups.  Most backups aspire to be starters, but things don't always work out, and many end up being career backups, or second stringers, or utility players as they like to call them in baseball.   In hockey, the only player that dresses but rarely plays is the back-up goalie.  Most teams have a number one starter, but in cases like the Maple Leafs, it's a 2 man game, with the hot hand usually getting the number one job....until he either screws up or gets injured.   
      And so it was that Ben Scrivens went from back-up to starter a few weeks ago when incumbent James Reimer went down with an injury.  Since becoming the starter, Scrivens has been excellent, having recently recorded back to back shutouts.   But, when I mentioned on the air yesterday that Randy Carlyle should NOT play Scrivens against Tampa, my "Sportsline" co-host, Bubba O'Neil lit into me.   Scrivens was hot.  Scrivens was on a roll.  Who else do you want in net against the NHLs top scoring team?   Now, granted, the Leafs back up goalie is Jussi Rynnas, who has started exactly one NHL game in his career.   Since Scrivens had played 2 games in three nights, and was going to play on back to back nights for the first time in HIS career, I felt he deserved a rest instead.  The Leafs didn't need to win the game, so let the back up get his skates wet and save Scrivens for Buffalo.
   By now you know that the Leafs lost 4-2 to Tampa, and Scrivens was pulled in the third period in favor of Rynnas.  Now Carlyle has a dilemma.  Does he go back to Scrivens against Buffalo, or does he start Rynnas?   It's one of the toughest decisions a coach has to make.  You can't burn your starter out, although Marty Brodeur regularly played 70+ games a year.   That meant Jacques Lemaire or Larry Robinson or Pat Burns had to find the right time to plug in the back up.   Suffice to say that guys like Chris Tererri, Mike Dunham, Corey Schwab, Kevin Weekes, Yann Danis, Scott Clemmensen and Johnan Hedberg spent a lot of time sitting at the end of the bench and working the gate for the players. 
     When Pat Burns coached the Maple Leafs, he rode Felix Potvin as his starting goalie for the most part.  For a few seasons, Potvin's backup was Damian Rhodes, a friendly, introspective fellow who seemed to lack confidence.  Burns was reluctant to play Rhodes, but he had to give Potvin the occasional rest.   Once, on a road trip to Dallas, Burns had a tough decision to make.  Play Potvin, who was dog-tired, or go with Rhodes, who was having problems dealing with the health of his father, who was dying of cancer at the time.  While having a smoke outside the airport terminal (Burns used to buy a pack of smokes and then leave it with me until he wanted one), he asked me whether he should play Potvin or Rhodes, saying he didn't think Rhodes' head was in the game.     Eventually, he settled on Rhodes, who played poorly and was eventually traded to Ottawa for Don Beaupre.
      And who is the greatest backup goalie of all time?   Well, Michel (Bunny) Larocque would be a good choice.   He backed up Ken Dryden for most of the 70s, and even though he only won one Stanley Cup, he did win 4 Vezina trophies (shared) and sported a career mark of 160-89 on some of the greatest teams ever.   My choice for greatest backup would be Rollie Melanson of the Islanders, who backed up Billy Smith and won 3 Stanley Cups and a Jennings trophy (shared).  His lifetime mark was 129-106.    Oh, there are plenty more "career" backups to talk about.  Rhodes, for example, was no longer a backup when he went to Ottawa.  He actually shared the number one spot with Ron Tugnutt.   Glenn Healy was a first string goalie for a few years, but ended up sharing duties on the Islanders with Mark Fitzpatrick, and then was a back up to Mike Richter on the Rangers.
     Ben Scrivens seems to have a bright future ahead of him as a goalie.  Whether he becomes a full time starter, a guy who shares playing time or a backup depends on a lot of things.  How much confidence does the coach have in him?  Who is the other goalie on the team?  What are the chances that he or Reimer gets traded anytime soon?    We know that Jussi Rynnas, among others, is asking those questions as well.   Better a back-up than a nobody, I guess.

UPDATE AT 3:23 P.M.   The Buffalo Sabres have fired coach Lindy Ruff.   He was the longest tenured coach in any of the pro sports, having started behind the Sabres bench 1165 games ago.   That was back in 1997.  Since he was hired, 170 coaching changes have taken place in the NHL.    Oh, and by the way, Ruff replaced Ted Nolan as the Sabres coach.  There, don't you feel OLD now?

AN OPEN APOLOGY TO GREG MILLEN.

Years ago, while listening to The Fan radio in Toronto, I heard two hosts discussing the Toronto Argonauts and how much they hated the guy who did their radio play by play.   Since I was the one who did radio play by play for the Argonauts, I paid close attention.   The two hosts, both of whom I knew personally,  were ripping me to shreds ON THE AIR.   I was shocked. I felt like crying.   No matter what they thought of me, a colleague in the same business, they should've kept it to themselves.   Cutting up an athlete who makes millions or a coach who can't win is part of the raison d'etre of a commentator.  Taking pot shots at a contemporary is, to me, unprofessional.  You'd never hear a doctor talking about another M.D. that way, at least not publicly.    
      That day, I promised myself I would NEVER slag another broadcaster.  Not on the air.  Not in print.  Not on Facebook or Twitter (even though they hadn't been invented yet.  But last night I broke that promise and I want to apologize to Maple Leafs color commentator Greg Millen, who teams with Joe Bowen on most TV games.   After Phil Kessel had scored to give the Leafs a 1-0 lead over Florida, they showed 3 or 4 replays of the goal (it was a beauty) and Millen said "Kessel was desperate for a goal.  He REALLY needed that one".    Now, normally I would consider that to be a fair comment for a guy who was slumping,  but Kessel was NOT desperate for a goal.  His scoring slump had long since been broken, the team was playing well and I thought Millen was being overly dramatic.   Since I was engaged on Twitter for most of the game, I felt I HAD to say something, so I typed out a " Huh? What is Millen talking about?" tweet and hit "send".   Big mistake.   While I felt better for getting it off my chest, I started wondering how Millen would feel when he read the tweet.  (I don't know if he has or not).  Then, some of my Twitter followers chimed in that he was having a bad night, or that they would rather hear another commentator alongside Bowen.   Some of it was nasty, and it was all because I broke a promise to myself.
       Fans can criticize players, coaches, managers, other fans and yes, commentators.  But commentators can not stick it to other commentators. Players rarely, if ever, criticize other players.   Even after they're retired, you'd be hard pressed to find a former pro athlete who takes shots at another.  Oh, it happens every so often in tell-all books or even in trash-talking tweets, but there is generally a professional respect for someone in a similar position.  So, even though I never worked with Greg Millen, I consider us to be broadcasting contemporaries, and therefore apologize for making a critical remark about him in public.  Next time, I may type out my complaint, but I definitely won't hit "send".
     Of the 7 NHL games played last night, four of them ended in shutouts.  Ilya Bryzgalov, Mike Smith, Peter Budaj and Ben Scrivens all looked like a combination of Jacques Plante and Marty Brodeur in their primes.  On Saturday February 9th, of the 11 games played, 4 ended in shutouts and four more saw the losing team score just once.    Is the goaltending that much better in the NHL these days?  Or is it that the shooters aren't as good?  Maybe a combination of both.   So far this year, and the season is only 16 games old, 25 goalies have recorded shutouts.  Pekka Rinne and Mike Smith each have three shuouts, which would translate to 9 shutouts in this 48 game season.   Were this a full season, you're talking about 16 shutouts to lead the league.  That's a lot of goose eggs. 
     Last year, there were 176 shutouts over the entire season.  Jonathan Quick of L.A. had 10, or one shutout in every 7 starts.   Brian Elliott of the Blues had 9 shutouts in just 36 starts, or one in 4.   Obviously, the number of shutouts a goalie records has largely to do with the defensive system his team plays.  Marc Andre Fleury of the Penguins had just 3 shutouts last year in 64 starts, or one every 21 games.  This year he has none.  Chalk it up to the Penguins offensive-minded style, which expects Crosby, Malkin and company to outscore their opponents every game. 
      Yes, the game of hockey has changed, but is it for the better?  We crave more scoring, so why aren't we getting it?   Last year Steven Stamkos (60) and Geno Malkin (50) were two of only four players to score 40 or more goals.  By comparison, in the 2005-06 season, the goal scoring leaders were:
Cheechoo (56), Jagr (54), Ovechkin (52), Kovalchuck (52) and Heatley (50).  Six more players that year had over 40 goals.   Where were the good goalies that year?  In the two seasons from '05 to '07, 28 players finished with 90 or more points.   In the past two NHL seasons, just 8 players have topped the 90 point mark.   Maybe it's time we made the nets bigger.   As much as I like shutouts, I like scoring a whole lot more.

HE'S JUST 17.  KNOW WHAT I MEAN?
My 17 year old son came home from shooting hoops around noon.  "Hey Dad, you'd better get down to McMaster, the stands are filling up.  Wiggins is here".  By 12:30 p.m., I had arrived at Burridge Gym to find about a thousand people milling about, waiting to see the next great Canadian athlete.  Andrew Wiggins wasn't scheduled to hit the court until 2 p.m., but the place was filling up fast.  This was crazy.  There hadn't been this kind of a buzz for a teenager around these parts since Justin Bieber hit town.  But Andrew Wiggins is going to be big, maybe bigger that Beebs.  He's got potential written all over him.  He's a YouTube legend.  And he's only 17.  Imagine the possibilities. 
     The opportunity to witness greatness in it's infancy is quite intoxicating.  I saw Secretariat race as a two year old.  I saw Wayne Gretzky play junior hockey.  Nobody knew just how great they would become, but we got an inkling in their formative years.    Wiggins is projected to be a top three pick in the 2014 NBA draft, but first he has to finish high school and then go to university for a year.  He has to grow into his body.  He has to grow up, like most 17 year olds eventually do.   Nevertheless, the thirsty Toronto media wanted to sop up every bit of Andrew Wiggins, and so, en masse, they came to Hamilton, where press passes cost $10 for the right to cover Wiggins' Huntington Prep team take on the United Leadership Academy, which was basically the Sir Alan McNab senior high school team with four "allstars" sprinkled in.  Normally, the working media doesn't pay, but they provide free coverage of the event in exchange.   Not in this case.  There were expenses involved in getting a potential superstar to come to your town.  You want to cover the event, you pay US for the privilege.  That's OK, we can expense it.
      An hour before tip off, the first three rows of the "media section" were full.  Cathal Kelly of the Toronto Star, Steve Buffery of the Sun, Bruce Arthur and Eric Koreen,of the National Post, Rachel Brady of the Globe and Mail were among the journalists in attendance, heavy hitters all.   From the Fifth Estate, Michael Grange and Arash Madani of Sportsnet, Matthew Scianitti of TSN, Holly McKenzie of The Score and others from basketball websites, bloggers, radio stations and of course, my very own CHCH TV.  As tip off neared, people started sitting in the aisles and hanging from the windows that overlooked the court.  Others stood shoulder to shoulder on the sidelines.  Burridge Gym has a capacity of about 2300 seats.  There probably 3000 people in the house.  The Fire Marshal would not have approved.   During warmups, all eyes were on Wiggins.  He yawned, he stretched, he dunked a few times in the layup line and looked like any other 17 year old might.  A bit bemused, a bit bored and itching to get going.
     After the cast of "Godspell" performed the National Anthems (and nobody could remember the Star Spangled Banner ever being played at Burridge), the game was on and it was evident that we were witnessing something special.   Wiggins scored 11 points in the opening six minutes, and there was talk along press row that he might drop a "Wilt Chamberlain" on his opponents.  But you never know with a 17 year old, and hopes for a dominating and devastating individual performance were dashed when Wiggins became incredibly unselfish.  The nerve of him.  He finished the half with 19 points, but deferred to his teammates on several occasions when he could've easily taken the shot.
    The second half was more of the same.  A dunk by Wiggins.  A layup.  A sloppy pass.  A blocked shot.  An assist to teammate and best friend Xavier Rathan-Mayes (who outscored Wiggins 27 to 25) another rebound and another block before heading to the bench with 1:45 to go in the third.  Wiggins was basically getting by on incredible athletic ability, evidenced by one rebound where he jumped so high (he has a 44" vertical leap) his opponent just stood there and watched in awe.  So did the rest of the crowd.  He didn't return until 6:02 left in the fourth, and by then the outcome had been decided.  So, instead of taking it to the hoop and padding his personal stats, he made his mates look good by giving up the ball and allowing them some of the glory.    In just over 28 minutes of action Wiggins finished with 25 points on 10 of 13 shooting.  He was 4 for 7 from the free throw line, had 9 rebounds, 4 assists, 3 blocks and 3 turnovers (unofficially because there were no "official" stats recorded in such a friendly exhibition match.  
     The final score was 81-52 for Huntington Prep.  Afterwards, in the bowels of the arena, the interview room that's usually reserved for Mac football games was put to use as 60 or so media members prepared to pepper Wiggins with questions.   Before his arrival, however, ULAs Francis Kiapway, who led his team with 23 points, talked about playing against Wiggins.  He seemed happy that Wiggins "only" scored 25 against him.   Afterward, Rathan-Mayes, who has already committed to Florida State, said that Wiggins' abilities are "mind boggling", and that he'd love to have his buddy playing at Florida State with him next season, but that Wiggins hasn't committed yet.   Rathan-Mayes' father, Tharon Mayes,  played hoops there from 1987-90, while both of Wiggins' parents, Mitchell and Marita, starred at FSU, he in basketball, she in track.  If Andrew doesn't sign with the Seminoles, you've got a heckuva scoop.
      When Wiggins sat down at the podium, he was like any typical 17 year old.  His answers were short, yet polite.  It was as if you were asking him what he learned in school while sitting around the kitchen table.  His favourite subject in school is English.   He loves music, especially old school rap like Tupac, and new stuff from the likes of Big Pun, Styles P., Jadakiss and Big L. (I had to ask my 17 year old about the last one).  His favourite meal at home is jerk chicken with rice and peas.  His favourite player was Allen Iverson and now it's Kevin Durant because "he's 6'10", he's unstoppable, and KD is humble, just like me."    Truer words were never spoken.  Especially by a 17 year old who is mature beyond his years.   He has to be.

OSCAR, OSCAR, OSCAR!

Not since OJ has a sports icon and hero to millions gone down in flames so quickly.  Prior to yesterday's news that he had allegedly shot his girlfriend four times, Oscar Pistorius was a inspiration to disabled and able-bodied people worldwide.    But what did we REALLY know about the man they called "Blade Runner"?  Did we want to dig deep into this man's past?  Did we really go looking for skeletons in his closet?   Hardly.    We accepted Oscar as an intelligent, passionate, dedicated man who overcame amputation of both legs below the knees to become the greatest paralympic runner of all time.   He even competed against able bodied runners at the Olympics and carried the South African flag. 
     But that's all we WANTED to know.   Some things are better left unsaid.   He crashed his boat a few years ago, and had been involved in a few domestic disputes, but that didn't signal him as a potential murderer, and certainly didn't raise any red flags to those who chose to cover him in the media.  He enjoyed guns and owned several of them including a 9mm pistol he kept by his bedside.   Was that a reason to suspect he might someday shoot someone and kill them?   After all, South Africa has more gun-related murders than any other country on the planet except for Colombia, so maybe it's an accepted part of the culture.   So Oscar has guns, so what?   It's not like he's going to murder someone.
      Come on folks.   People are complicated.    We don't know why they do things, and we certainly can't delve into the psyche of every "sports hero" who did something that we think was totally out of character.   We can speculate all we want, but we'll never know.    Not that any excuse can be made for shooting someone four times.   It can't.   But it's even more difficult to rationalize when that person is plastered all over billboards, TV and magazine covers in South Africa.    He is, or was, a National hero in that country.    Journalists who covered him spoke glowingly of his consideration of others and his willingness, even in defeat, to conduct interviews and ensure that every journalist got their story and every photographer got the picture they wanted.  He was  cooperative, respectful and a pleasure to cover, according to many.   And that's why it's such a shock.   Your faith in human nature is shaken to the core.   This man didn't cheat by taking illegal drugs.   He didn't lie or try to cover up his transgressions of the past.   This guy (allegedly) murdered his girlfriend.   He shot her (allegedly) four times.    He says he thought she was an intruder, although neighbours say they heard screaming and shouting eminating from the home earlier in the night in question.
       Many, many athletes, entertainers, politicians and other powerful people have proven, sadly, to be just as human as the rest of us.    Murder happens every day, yet we accept it as part of everyday life.   That is, until, a famous person commits the act.   But please, don't lump Pistorius with Lance Armstrong or Manti T'eo or Joe Paterno.   Sure, they're reputations took a hit, but none of them pointed a gun at a loved one and fired it.    OJ Simpson went before a jury in 1995 and was acquitted of charges he murdered his ex-wife and her friend.    In South Africa, there are no juries.   That means Pistorius's fate rests in the hands of the judge, who, like many South Africans, is torn by the series of events that has rocked his homeland.

BEST GOON SQUAD EVER.
Watching the Maple Leafs dismantle the Montreal Canadiens the other night, I couldn't help but wonder if this is the type of team that Brian Burke was hoping for all along.  Truculence, testosterone, pugnacity.  That's what the Leafs showed via Mark Fraser, Colton Orr and Fraser McLaren on Saturday.  If you thought this team was going to get pushed around this year, you were sadly mistaken.  The Leafs are tied for the league lead with 14 fighting majors, and in my estimation, are the toughest Leaf team since 1989-90, when they set a club record with 2401 PIM.    That's 30 minutes PER game, folks.   And that was the year the Leafs hit the .500 mark for the first time in over a decade AND made the layoffs.
     Doug Carpenter was the Leaf coach that year, and had, at his disposal, 12 players who topped the 90 PIM mark.    Nobody wanted to play the Leafs in those days because they had John Kordic, Brian Curran, Lou Franceschetti, Rob Ramage, Luke Richardson, Al Iafrate, John McIntyre, Todd Gill, Brad Marsh, Scott Pearson and Mark Osborne.  Even Tie Domi got in a couple of games (and 42 PIM).   The problem with that Leaf team was a lack of defense and goaltending, and their inability to kill penalties, as they found out during their 5 game loss to St. Louis in the opening round.  Brett Hull, Adam Oates and Jeff Brown absolutely killed them on the powerplays.  And don't forget, the Blues were pretty tough as well.  Kelly Chase, Harold Snepts, Dave Lowry, Rich Sutter, Glen Featherstone and Sergio Momesso gave the Blues a lot of sandpaper that year.
      The late 80s and early 90s saw teams take penalties at an extraordinary rate, more so than during any other era. This was after the NHL introduced the "Third Man In" rule to eliminate bench clearing brawls in the late 70s.  It helped curtail those donnybrooks, but the mano a mano fighting continued unabated until the league added the "instigator" rule in 1992, which added an additional two minute penalty to the player who started the fight.   They had to add this rule because the previous year saw 3 teams, the Sabres, Flames and Blackhawks amass better than 2600 minutes in penalties.  It was a steady parade to the sin-bin in those days.  Games were taking too long to play.    Something had to be done. 
     The problem was, the fans, for the most part, loved the fighting.  Still do.   Ever since the Philly Flyers of the 70s were anointed as the "Broad Street Bullies", teams looked for a mix of talent and toughness.    But forget what you heard about Dave Schultz, Don Saleski and "Moose" Dupont during their heyday.   The real Philly goon squad played under Pat Quinn in 1980-81.   Listen to this motley crew:  Paul Holmgren (306 PIM), Behn Wilson (237), Glen Cochrane (219 in just 31 games), Mike Busniak (204), Mel Bridgman (195), Frank Bathe (175), Ken "the Rat" Linseman (150), Bob Dailey (141) and the great ankle-breaker himself, Bobby Clarke (140).
     But the best (or worst) Goon Squad ever, the team that had the most cement-heads, scrappers and brawlers  were the 1991-92 Chicago Blackhawks.   Mike Keenan coached this bunch, featuring Mike Peluso (408 PIM), Steve Smith (304) Stu "The Grim Reaper" Grimson (234), Bryan Marchment (168) along with Chris Chelios, Rod Buskas, Jocelyn Lemieux, Dirk Graham, Jeremy Roenick and even Eddie Belfour (38 PIM, two fights).  
     (Dis)honourable mention goes to the 1988-89 Pittsburgh Penguins, who had 15 players amass 90 PIM or more.  In fact, their top SIX scorers all had over 100 PIM.   Mario Lemieux, Rob (Down Goes) Brown, Paul Coffey, Dan Quinn, John Cullen and Bob Errey.  If you add the likes of Jay Caufield, Rod Buskas (a must on your goon squad), Jim Johnson, Troy Loney, Randy Hillier, Randy Cunneyworth and goon goalie Tom Barrasso (48 PIM, three fights) you're looking at a pretty talented and tough squad.
    Back in those days, my buddies and I had "penalty" drafts, where instead of drafting goal scorers, you gained points every time your draftee visited the penalty box.  You got two points for every minor infraction.  Fighting majors and misconducts were worth 5 and 10 points respectively, but a game misconduct was worth 60 points.   Guys like Tiger Williams, Basil McRae, Tim Hunter, Chris Nilan, Willi Plett and Torrie Robertson were always high picks.  Rick Tocchet and Marty McSorley were usually up there as well.  Sometimes a Gary Rissling or Paul Baxter or Jimmy Mann was worth a shot.  Alan May, Shane Churla, Randy Holt and Wayne Van Dorp were pretty good too.   Oh, I could go on and on.  Of course, that's when fighting was omnipresent in the NHL.   Saturday night in Montreal was a return to those days, and while today's Leafs aren't quite a goon squad,  quite frankly, that's MY kind of hockey.
     

KOBE AND DWIGHT.  TEAMMATES WHO HATE EACH OTHER.
Whenever I hear of the ongoing rift between Kobe Bryant and Dwight Howard on the L.A. Lakers, I can't help but think of the battling Gallagher brothers, Noel and Liam, from the British band "Oasis".    Seriously.
When Kobe complains that Howard doesn't work hard enough and should "get his ass in the game", it reminds me of what likely went on backstage just as Oasis was about to play.  
NOEL:  We're going to start with "Wonderwall" and then we'll play "Champagne Supernova"
LIAM:  Screw you!  I say we should go with "Lyla" to start, and then segue into "Don't look back in anger".
NOEL:  I'm the eldest, I know better.  We do it my way.
LIAM:  Mom always liked you best! (trashes dressing room, shotguns a bottle of Jack Daniels, refuses to go on stage)
Now, consider the scenario in the Lakers dressing room these days.
KOBE:  We're going to start with the fast-break.  Dwight, make sure you get your sorry ass downcourt.
DWIGHT:  Why should I listen to you, old man?  Coach wants to go with the pick n roll, so just get me the ball and then head to the basket.
KOBE:  Look, you're just a rental player for one year. I've been a Laker for life.
DWIGHT: (angrily) Oh yeah, well they don't call me "Superman" for nothing. (Steve Nash steps in between the two as Howards storms out of the dressing room in search of his cape)
      Now, I admit it.   I honestly thought the Los Angeles Lakers were going to make a serious run at a title this year.  They went out and signed Howard.  They signed Nash.  Kobe might be the greatest of all time, or at least on par with Michael Jordan.   Too bad they didn't have the right coach.   And now that Mike D'Antoni has replaced Mike Brown, they still don't have the right coach.  Last night they were blown out in Boston, and something's gotta give in La La land or it's all going to blow up real good.  For a team that was supposed to contend for a title, the Lakers will be lucky to make the playoffs.  Let's face it, the window of opportunity is closing fast.  In two years, this team will look entirely different.
   The Kobe-Dwight relationship never had a chance, and the sooner they're separated, the better off the Lakers will be.   After yesterday's humiliation in Boston, Kobe was asked by a reporter if he and Dwight were on the same page. ""What page is there to be on? Defend. Rebound, I mean what else is on the page?"
OK, the Gallagher brothers weren't always on the same page, but they made it work.  8 number one singles in the U.K. to go with 8 number one albums.   But the sibling disputes and their petty differences tore the group apart.   In Kobe's case, this was his team before Howard came along, and if Dwight isn't willing to do what it takes, he can hit the highway.   In Howard's defense, a bulging disk in his back and a torn labrum have slowed him considerably, and he's just not the same dominant player he was in the past.   Last night he was a non-factor against Boston, and fouled out after 28 minutes. 
    On paper, the Lakers looked awfully tough when the season began, but now they just look old and slow and hurt and tired.  Pau Gasol is out 6-8 weeks, Metta World Peace has been awful, shooting 26% over his last five games, and Steve Nash is 39 years old and cannot be depended on to play a lot of high energy minutes.  It says here that the Lakers will trade Howard before the February 21st deadline.   The question is:  Who wants him, and what can you possibly get for the guy?   If you were to ask Kobe, he'd probably be happy with a second round draft pick and a bag of Kryptonite.

DECENT TEAM, TERRIBLE COACH.

Last year, during a shortened 66 game season, Toronto's Dwane Casey was the worst coach in the NBA.  By far.  Without the benefit of a training camp because of a labour dispute, Casey felt the need to win every night and ended up pushing players into injuries (see Bargnani, Andrea) and complaining to the referees too much. I suggested he be fired on many occasions.  But this year, I decided to give Casey a pass, figuring that he learned some lessons and now was ready to step up and prove that he could coach at this level.   It's painfully obvious that he can't, and despite signing him to a recent contract extension, the Raptors must let him go.  Maybe not right now, but soon.    If they have any hope of developing a decent team, they can't have Casey as their head coach.
     Last night, for the umpteenth time, the Raptors absolutely sucked in the fourth quarter and blew a big lead to Boston.   Just like the horse that sprints out to a big lead and looks like a champion, the Raptors look terrific in the first three quarters.  Then they can hardly wait for the finish line to arrive.  You can blame the coach for that.   They take poor shots, they can't inbound the ball at crucial times during the game, they turn the ball over.  It's clear that they don't know what they're doing, and that's where a good coach comes in.  A coach has to control his emotions, maintain some cool under pressure and at all times, respect the referees.   Casey doesn't.  He's not capable of it.  He got fined 25 grand for saying the Raptors were ripped off by the refs when Demar DeRozan DID NOT draw a whistle on what appeared to be an obvious foul.   Maybe the reason he didn't get the call was because his coach is always whining to the refs.   And Casey whines to the refs because he doesn't want to accept blame for his poor coaching decisions.   So he blames the refs.  And they treat the Raptors like shit because of it.
     And please don't tell me that because Calderon was traded away, the Raps are weak at the point and that makes Casey's job tougher.  Nonsense.  He's got plenty of firepower.  How else do the Raptors regularly open up double-digit leads?   He's whipping them down the backstretch instead of conserving them for the stretch run.  Rudy Gay should automatically make Casey a better coach.  Casey should've realized Gay didn't have the shooting touch in the fourth quarter, after going 7 for 15 in the first three quarters.  Instead, he let Gay shoot.  And shoot.  And shoot 9 times in the quarter, hitting just once. Any other coach tells Gay to use his passing skills, or drive to the bucket and kick it out.  Not Dwane Casey.  And that's why the Raptors will never win with him.  He doesn't know how to protect a lead and he doesn't respect the officials, so he won't get the call when the Raptors need it.   Maybe it's not all Bargnani's fault.   Maybe Bryan Colangelo should look to make a coaching move.  Phil Jackson is out there somewhere.  Canada is a lot like Montana.  Just sayin'

KESSEL VS. BARGNANI.  WHO DO YOU LOVE?
Welcome to Southern Ontario, where the Toronto athletes who are most highly paid are raked over the coals with regularity.   Whether you prefer hockey to basketball as your winter choice (and hey, it's ok to love both sports equally) there's always a highly paid guy you can complain about.   But this year, there are two.   Phil Kessel's delicious 9 game goalless streak is taking on a life of it's own because it's Toronto and it's the Leafs and, well, you know how it goes.   Kessel's lucky his team is sitting at the .500 mark.  Imagine if they were playing like the Washington Caps.   In fact, imagine hitching your wagon to Alex Ovechkin.    The Leafs are not losing games because of Kessel's inability to score.  They might be a better team because they don't depend on his putting the puck in the net.  And besides, every player has slumps.  Especially young players.       Andrea Bargnani, like Kessel, has not lived up to expectations, but he's running out of excuses.  Injuries have now become a huge factor, and the Raptors are actually a better team with him out of the lineup.   He's expected to play tonight, but Mike Ganter of the Toronto Sun wondered if anybody really cares whether or not he comes back.  Rudy Gay is the man now.  How ironic is that?  Kyle Lowry has barely played with Bargnani.  Same with JV.  Aaron Gray has earned playing time at the 5.  Amir or Gay can handle the 4.  There isn't much room for Bargnani in this lineup so I guess he'll have to make the most of his playing time.     And isn't that the way it should be?  I don't care how much money Kessel makes, or how many players and draft picks went to Boston to get him, he just has to show me that he can help the team win.  If he can't do that, he's got to spend more time on the bench.  The guys who produce are the guys who should get the most playing time. For Kessel, there's only one way to go, and that's up.  For Bargnani, it's doubtful he'll ever be more than a spare part, and an overpriced one at that. 
         I have this ongoing argument with myself.  Which sport do I prefer at this time of year, hockey or basketball?  Or does it depend on the circumstances?      For example, on Monday I had a choice of watching the Maple Leafs-Hurricanes game or the Pistons-Knicks.   The Leaf game wasn't a "sexy" matchup, but the debut of Jose Calderon for the Pistons playing at M.S.G. kind of turned me on.  Besides, the crowd at the Air Canada Centre is almost always dead for Leaf games.  The atmosphere at Madison Square Garden is always electric, whether it's the Knicks, the Rangers or the Westminster Dog Show.  So, I watched the basketball and kept an eye on Twitter for updates from the Leaf game.  It was great.  My wife knows I'm doing this, but to her it's way better than dial flipping the T.V, so she ignored me.   But then last night, I figured it would be worth a look to watch the Leafs play in Washington against Ovie and the slumping Caps.   The thing is, the game was on Leafs TV, which is a pay channel, which I refuse to pay for.  Too bad.  I watched the Lakers-Nets instead, kept a Twitter watch on the Leaf game and had another good night.  I guess I am preferring the basketball matchups right now, but pretty soon I'm sure a Montreal-Toronto or Rangers-Philly tilt will vie for my attention.    And by then, baseball will have started.     Oh yeah, we can add the Bluejays to the mix pretty soon.   That means we'll be paying VERY close attention to Ricky Romero.
    

COACHES MELTING DOWN...MILBURY STYLE.
Sometimes, coaches don't like taking the blame.   They freak out when bad things happen and then take it out on poor unsuspecting folks like referees, fans and even the media.  Just once can't we hear a coach say, in the words of Robert Plant "Nobody's fault but mine"?  49ers coach Jim Harbaugh is the latest coach to point the finger of blame at the officials, when he really should've looked in the mirror.  His play calling at the end of the game was atrocious, and because of that, his team lost.
      As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I covered the 1990 Stanley Cup finals, and the opening game in Boston was a triple overtime, blackout-delayed affair that ended around 1:30 in the morning when Edmonton's Petr Klima scored.  The second game wasn't until three days later, and Boston rookie coach Mike Milbury was assuring the fans and the media that his team would be up for the challenge and would definitely put the disappointment of Game One behind them.   Milbury had a particular arrogance about him that worked fine with the Boston media, but rubbed me the wrong way.  Of course, I happened to be a somewhat controversial TV host/reporter who rubbed some people the wrong way, so a showdown was inevitable.
     Milbury was a rookie coach with the Bruins that year and led them to 101 points and the President's Trophy.  He was beloved in Beantown, and had been ever since, as a Bruins player,  he climbed the glass after a game at Madison Square Garden and beat a New York Rangers fan with his shoe (the fan's, not Milbury's).  His temper was legendary, and on display many times during that rookie season behind the bench.  We used to regularly run highlights on "Sportsline" of Milbury screaming at the officials, throwing his gum in disgust, and generally acting like a spoiled kid.   The fans loved it because the Bruins were winning.  They hadn't won a Stanley Cup since the Orr-Esposito days of 1972, yet had been to the finals 4 times since then, losing to Philly, Montreal twice, and Edmonton in 1988.  It appeared that THIS was their year, as the Oilers no longer had Gretzky or Paul Coffey.  Edmonton only had 90 points that year with John Muckler behind the bench.
     And so it was that the Bruins trailed the finals 0-1, with Game 2 in Boston.  It did not go well.  Despite having the likes of Cam Neely, Craig Janney, Ray Bourque, Dave Poulin, Brian Propp, Bobby Carpenter, Randy Burridge, Glen Wesley, Don Sweeney, Gary Galley and Andy Moog, they were blown out of their own rink on this night.  The final score was 7-2 Oilers, and the Boston fans, many of whom had sat through three overtimes and a power failure a few nights earlier, were enraged.  Many of them ushered the Bruins off the ice at games end with boos and jeers.  As a TV reporter, my job was to get dressing room comments from the players, but first of all, to record the coaches comments.   The NHL had set up a small area just off the Boston dressing room which normally would accommodate 10 or 15 media members.   On this night, there must've been 8 or 10 TV cameras (a lot in those days) in addition to 40  radio, print and TV reporters  and still cameramen. No such thing as a blogger back then.  As we all packed into the corridor, I could hear rumblings from the Bruins dressing room.  Obviously the players were upset.  They had laid an egg in front of their home crowd, and now were down 0-2 with the series heading back to Edmonton. They were steamed.
        At this point, it was about 10:30 p.m., which meant I had less than an hour to accumulate the interviews, record a reporter "stand up" (to show the audience I was actually there), edit the comments into a package, and then send it out on the satellite back to Toronto for the 11:30 airing of "Sportsline".  This is called a "hard" deadline.  You MUST get your story to air.  No excuses.    So, when Milbury came out of the dressing room and sat down at a makeshift table that had 20 microphones on it, I had to make sure I got a good question in.     The first question came from the local Boston affiliate WBZ.  A female reporter asked a softball question about it being a shame that Andy Moog had no support, blah, blah, blah.  Now, I'm thinking I'd better get the next question in, but another Boston reporter tossed an easy question Milbury's way, because, let's face it, you don't want to piss off the coach you have to cover every day.   I had no such worries, so I blurted out this gem:  "Mike, is your team humiliated in there?"     And that's when it happened. Milbury looked straight at me, shook his head from side to side and said "F**K OFF!  We take dumb penalty, they score a couple of cheap goals...that's a stupid  f**kin' question and you're a stupid f**kin' reporter".  Silence.  Everybody is looking at me.  "Well" I said, somewhat humiliated myself, "You're a stupid f**kin' coach".   My heart was beating like a rabbit.  Here I had just been verbally abused, in front of several media members, by a petulant hockey coach who didn't like my question and decided to berate me.    The next day, the headline in the Edmonton Sun read:  "He said WHAT?" .
     Afterwards, Milbury complained to the NHL, who sent PR Director Gerry Helper to see me.  I was told that my employer, Global TV, would have their press credentials taken away for the rest of the Stanley Cup unless I apologized.  I asked other media members if they thought I had done anything wrong.   All the Boston media thought I was trying to embarrass Milbury (maybe, but I don't think so.  I had a job to do.)  A lot of my colleagues in the Canadian media didn't see anything wrong with the question, and admitted they didn't have the guts (or stupidity) to ask it.   It's something I agonized over for a long time.  When the series came back to Boston the following week, the Oilers led 3 games to one, and ended up clinching the Stanley Cup at the Garden.    I never did see Milbury that night.  He was in no mood to talk, and certainly didn't want to see me.   A short time later, he was upset in the Jack Adams Trophy voting by Winnipeg's Bob Murdoch, despite the fact that his Bruins had 101 points to 85 for the Jets.   Ironically, both men lasted just one more year before being fired.
     I saw Milbury a few seasons later, when he was with the Islanders.  He had long forgotten about the incident, and didn't hold any grudges.   I had hoped to do the same, but in recent years Milbury had thrust himself into the spotlight by making foolish comments on TV about the "pansification of hockey".   He also called Sidney Crosby a "punk" and a "goody two shoes".  And let's not forget the incident when he allegedly grabbed a 12 year old hockey player and was arrested for assault and battery.   He was not prosecuted, but his employer, NBC, took him off the air while the allegations were being investigated.   
     The reason for this post wasn't to point out Milbury's shortcomings (or my own, for that matter).  Instead, it's a recollection of days gone by, when your humble reporter was a not-so-humble reporter who ran into a coach who was having a bad day.  The result was explosive, to say the least.  On the bright side, since that day, I can't recall another coach verbally abusing a reporter in public.   And for that I am happy.  Lesson learned.

TAP DANCING IN THE DARK.

Chris Cuthbert probably knows how Steve Tasker felt last night during the blackout at the Super Bowl.   Tasker was the sideline reporter for CBS, who ended up being the main announcer when the power went off.  For a guy who usually does some sideline reporting and talks to the coaches, Tasker was thrust into the spotlight and did a great job informing the hundred million or so TV viewers that were wondering what was going on.  For someone with limited broadcast experience, he did a credible job following a news story, and will likely be rewarded by the network when the time comes for future job assignments. 
     Back in 1988, Cuthbert was thrust into the spotlight when, as a young reporter for CBC, he was covering the Washington Capitals-New Jersey Devils playoff series.  Occasionally, they would throw to Chris for an "update" in Washington, but he was strictly a correspondent.  However, when a power failure in Montreal postponed the Habs-Bruins game, the CBC had no choice but to go to Cuthbert, who did a terrific solo job as play by play man, color analyst, stats man, host and just about everything else.   They say timing is everything, and the power failure helped launched Cuthbert's career. 
    Later that spring, the Bruins and Oilers met in the Stanley Cup final, and the old Boston Garden was the scene for game 4.   The Oilers led 3 games to none, but on that late May day, the temperature was sizzling and a thick fog engulfed the Garden.  Players were asked to skate around during a break in play, in hopes of dissipating the fog.   It didn't work, and eventually, with the score tied at 3-3 late in the 2nd, the power went out and the game had to be cancelled for safety reasons.  Imagine 15 thousand fans, many of them half drunk, being asked to leave the Garden during a Stanley Cup final game.   Eventually, the Oilers won the series in Edmonton.
    Two years later, I was covering the Bruins and Oilers in the Cup final at Boston.  Game One was a marathon affair on another hot and muggy evening.  You were only allowed one beer at a time at the old Garden, which meant by the time you got to your seat, the beer was consumed and it was time to go back for another.  They stopped selling beer after the second intermission, but the game went into a third overtime, until finally the power went out.   It was about 12:40 a.m., and the last subway train would be leaving soon.   A P.A. announcement told the crowd that the last train would be leaving North Station at 1:15, and that caused a stir as several thousand fans got up to leave, unable to make their way home without public transit.  The lights were still out, the natives were getting restless (no beer will do that to you) and now they were being told that the subway was leaving before the end of the game.  Luckily, Mass Transit changed their mind, and a few minutes later word came down that the last train would leave North Station "at the conclusion of the game".   After about half an hour, the lights came back on, and soon thereafter, little used Petr Klima scored at about 1:30 a.m. to give the Oilers the win.    During the post game news conference, I asked Klima when his last shift was before the game winner.  "At about 8 p.m." said Klima.
       Maybe it had to do with the lousy hydro system in Massachusetts.  In the AFC championship game between the Patriots and Jacksonville in 1997 at Foxboro Stadium, the lights went out for some 11 minutes, just as Adam Vinatieri was about to kick a field goal.   Luckily, there was no Twitter, like there was during last night's power outage.   With all the power available from Smartphones in the Superdome, wasn't there way to harness that power and help bring the lights back on?    To prevent this from happening in the future, let's make certain there's a "Flashlight" App available so that if they lights do go out, fans can use their phones to illuminate the playing field, and delays like the one last night will be a thing of the past.

THE SPORTS GUY:   RIGHT ON!
Man years ago, while surfing the net, I came across a guy on Boston.com named BSG-The Boston Sports Guy.   He was witty, clever, a total sports junkie, a fan of pop culture and he posted great stuff EVERY DAY.  Not too many people knew about him, but after a while, his popularity was undeniable.  That's the great thing about the internet.  If you're good, people will find out about it quickly.  Before long, BSG became Bill Simmons, the Sports Guy.  He was hired by ESPN, wrote for the Jimmy Kimmel Show and eventually started his own site, Grantland.com, which is a MUST READ every day because it captures the pulse of the sports fan.   And that's what Simmons is, a fan.   But he's also a journalist, and sometimes that gets in the way of how you REALLY feel.   Been there, done that for many years.  If you want to stir up controversy, you'd better be prepared for the shitstorm that follows.
     Here is the best op-ed piece I've read in a long, long time. Click on the link.
    http://tinyurl.com/aw9aw86

HE LIVED LIFE TO THE FULLEST.  NOW HE'S DEAD.

The headline could refer to just about any young person involved in sports.  Especially "extreme" sports.  In this case, it's about the death of Caleb Moore, the innovative freestyle snowmobile rider who died following a crash at the Winter X games in Colorado. 
The 25 year old was attempting a backflip when the skis on his 450-pound snowmobile caught the lip of the landing area, sending him flying over the handlebars. Moore landed face first into the snow with his snowmobile rolling over him.  He died in hospital the next day.  It's just the latest in a string of unnecessary deaths featuring young daredevils who try to balance the thrill with the inherent risk of their sport.   Auto racers have been walking that tightrope for years.  Gilles Villeneuve, Ayrton Senna, and Dale Earnhardt were at their absolute peak when they perished on the track.   They knew the risks.  They chose to take them.  They lived life to the fullest.  Now, they're dead.
     A little over a year ago, we were shocked when 29 year old Canadian freestyle skier Sarah Burke died in a training accident at Park City, Utah.  The accident occurred on the halfpipe, where a safety issue had been raised two years earlier after snowboarder Kevin Pearce suffered a serious brain injury there.  Let's face it, youngsters nowadays appear eager to take more chances with their lives than in previous generations.  Perhaps it's the "Jackass" culture.  Maybe the "thrill of victory" is just too enticing for some.  And maybe, instead of bashing heads with other football players and risking concussion and permanent brain damage, they feel safer doing backflips on snowmobiles.
    Recently, more and more parents have expressed concern that their kids games were getting too dangerous.  Football and hockey especially, have seen a huge rise in reported concussions.  Years ago, it was considered "cowardly" to report a concussion.  Playing hurt was a badge of honour, even if your head was aching and you didn't know where you were.  Take yourself out of the game and you may not get another chance, or you'll be labeled a "sissy".  Well guess what, that ship has already sailed.  Junior Seau killed himself after a 20 year career as an NFL linebacker. He was 44.  Mike Webster killed himself after 17 years as an NFL center.  He was 50.   Dave Duerson killed himself after 11 years as an NFL defensive back.  He was 52.  Wade Belak played 14 NHL seasons before killing himself.  He was 35.  All four men took blows to the head for a living.  Maybe thousands of them.  Some concussions were reported, but most were ignored.  Was it the fault of the player, or the culture of the sport they played?   Probably both.
      You can put in as many safety measures as you want, but sports fans nowadays want action.  Whether it's flying through the air on a snowmobile, walking across Niagara Falls on a steel cable, or driving a motor vehicle 300 kilometres per hour, thrills and risk make people sit up and pay attention.  The spotlight is there if you want it, so long as you understand the risks and are willing to accept them.   After Moore's death, X Games officials said that they would conduct a thorough review of freestyle snowmobiling events and adopt any appropriate change.   "For 18 years, we have worked closely on safety issues with athletes, course designers and other experts. Still, when the world's best compete at the highest level in any sport, risks remain," they said, noting that Moore was hurt performing a move he had done several times before.   I have to admit, I love watching these athletes push the limits.  It makes for fabulous competition and wonderful drama.  Unfortunately, I just hate having to see them die so young.   Fame and fortune come at a high price.

Here's my Super Bowl prediction:   San Francisco 27 Baltimore 17.   As much as I love the Niners in this one, I hate Baltimore just as much because of Ray Lewis.   Just the thought of him running around, yelling, screaming and eating hunks of dirt makes me nauseous.   He is not a role model nor a man I hold in high regard.  Sure, he's a good football player, but none of his human qualities appeals to me.
Have a great weekend!