World Class?

There is a familiar ritual I see at all of my son’s hockey games. Players shaking hands with each other, the refs and coaching staff. What is unusual about this particular ritual is that it happens before the game, not after. Why? Because two seasons ago, a Bantam player who was upset with a game’s outcome and in particular the officiating, punched a ref during post-game handshakes. Of course the player was banned from the league, but the legacy of his infraction remains with the now pre-game handshakes, which the league mandated in what it considered a preventative measure. This has always frustrated me because league organizers have essentially surrendered to a single act of violence in what at best has become a permanent reminder of their failure (and perhaps unwillingness) to use this as a teachable moment for kids on the importance of sportsmanship.

It’s become an all too familiar sight in international hockey competition, players on the losing team refusing to wear second-place medals, or tossing them away, or like today, firing curses at players or fans of the other team. At that’s to say nothing of the taunting that goes on by some of the players on the winning side.

Now, before you go off on a rant about how athletes at this level are supposed to be tough, and they’re not playing for participation ribbons nonsense, yes I get all that. This idea that placing a high value on respect, or wanting to demonstrate a modicum of emphathy, somehow weakens the game is absurd. If it’s toughness you expect and living up to the high level of play, then the same thing should be expected in a player’s behaviour. World class goes far beyond level of play, it should also be a showcase of character. What is tougher than asking someone to swallow their pride and sincerely congratulate a player on the winning team or not gloat about your success? It is, after all, the world stage and players representing their countries owe their national audience, a good number of them kids, a demonstration of the strength of their character.

We don't have to look much further than the hateful and cowardly attacks on Team Canada's captain Max Comtois to wonder aloud about fan obsession with winning. It doesn't weaken the game to maybe show some sympathy, resepect and yes, appreciation for a guy who's heartbroken and devastated that he couldn't give his country the victory he himself so desperately wanted. Most, if not all, of the people who spewed this hate were adults. What kind of example are we setting for future generations? Be it a player or a sofa-bound wannabe, it's just not okay.

We all know chirping is part of the game, as childish as it is, but at the end of the day, reaching a high level of sports competition is a privilege and a responsibility to everyone a player represents and those who supported her or him on the journey. The future of the game is in the hands of millions of young people who aspire to reach the world’s highest stage. Somebody has to be the adult in the room and remind them that for all of the skill and hard work that goes into their achievements, there are millions more who may never get the opportunity. That win or lose, how they act after the final whistle is just as important as how they played. Otherwise, we become a culture obsessed with winning at the cost of our humanity, and no medal is worth that.

What A Fool Believes

Confession time. When I was a kid, I used to believe that if you swallowed gum it would take seven years for my body to digest. When I was a teenager, I thought that being gay was a lifestyle choice. When I was in my early twenties, I thought smoking was cool and cigarette bans were stupid.

It's embarrassing to look back at some of the foolish things I accepted and defended as truth before my narrow worldview expanded. Life's journey is filled with intellectual awakenings that help us grow and have a better understanding of the world around us. I find as I get older, I'm less inclined to dig in my heels to defend a position that upon further study, may prove to be false.

One of my most enduring life lessons came from a grade school teacher who taught me how to look at news media with a critical eye. Who is the source? Is there corroberating evidence? Is there an agenda in how the information is presented? Are multiple sources reporting the same thing? In this post-truth era, it has never been more important to seek out facts, even when the truth is not particularly palatable. This takes some determination, but it also takes courage. Courage to recognize that your worldview might be smaller than you thought and from time to time, courage to admit you were wrong.

When it comes to sports reporting, click-bait headlines and ego-driven opinion pieces are among the greatest obstacles in the path to the truth. Particularly in the crazeball hockey market that is Montreal, where juicy headlines and heated debate are fast becoming the hallmark of Habs fandom. The tiniest nugget of information, or a quote taken out of context, can quickly morph into an unwieldily beast of speculation, presumption and imagined controversy. It's unfortunate that a few gifted and intelligent individuals choose to skew the facts of a story to support a scintillating narrative, truth be damned. Unfortunately, this is what happens when so many media outlets are competing in a death race for audience attention. Controversy and conspiracy sells, and sadly there will always be a voracious appetite for such things.

For those of us interested in the facts, navigating the glaring headlines to get at the real story can be a challenge. The critical questions I learned in grade school still apply, but I also believe we need to focus on the qualities of the reporters themselves. Look to those who cover stories from multiple angles. Look to those who consistently report facts without suggesting what they mean. Look to those who treat individuals with respect, but also ask tough questions, and are not content with trite answers. Most of all, look to those with the courage to admit they were wrong.

When is comes to the increasingly diverse and ever expanding world of Habs media, you can easily find a source that will feed you facts and interpretations to support what you want to believe. Certainly that's a path that will keep you secure in a narrow worldview. Personally, I'd rather be proven wrong than go on believing in foolish things.

No Business

Photo credit https://habsterix.com

It was the news I didn't want to hear. Veteran Montreal Canadiens defenceman Andrei Markov would not be returning to the team.

Damn.

While we don't know the exact details of the negotiations, the organization and media tell us it was mostly to do with money. I'm not angry with General Manager Marc Bergevin or Andrei Markov. These things are complicated, pros and cons must be carefully weighed on both sides. I believe that for both parties the situation was difficult, balancing the pressures of managing a team and a player considering his personal needs and a career at a crossroads. In the end it was a decision that had to be made.

'Hockey is a business' is the cliché phrase trotted out for these occasions. As fans we're supposed to nod submissively as we acknowledge the cold, hard reality those words convey. After a near half-century of hearing that statement repeated time and again, I can say with conviction that it is simply not true.

The connection fans have to professional sports doesn't come close to the typical consumer/product relationship. Rightly or wrongly, those who choose to support a team develop a unique kinship with the players, coaches, and yes even management. In particular, a franchise like the Montreal Canadiens, with a history so rich and storied, hockey is far more than a business.

If you have lived in Montreal for any period of time, you would be keenly aware of how pervasive Canadiens hockey is in the city's culture. Those who live outside of Montreal also feel a deep connection to the team and the city, as do many fans of many franchises in professional sports. In Canada, hockey is personal, it's emotional, it's intimately connected to our own unique history and the relationships that form around it. It is part of our national psyche, a link that binds communities, generations and all that has passed before.

The Montreal Canadiens organization not only embraces the team's history and its deep connection to fans, they cultivate it with pomp and ceremony that borders on sacred ritual. The legend and lore that is an intrinsic quality of Habs fandom even extends to players and coaches, who frequently acknowledge that being part of the organization is something unique and special. Ask just about anyone who supports the team, or is associated with the organization, to define the greatness of the Montreal Canadiens, pretty far down the list would be successful business model.

Andrei Markov will not be returning to the team.

It hurts because it's supposed to hurt. He meant something to us, just like all the other players who have come and gone from the Canadiens roster throughout our personal history with the team. Even when we understand that tough decisions have to be made, don't try to minimize it with a trite cliché like 'hockey is a business.' You and I both know it means more than that, and yes you are completely entitled to feel bad.

Damn.

Our Common Thread

Do you remember the first hockey game you ever watched? I can't think a specific game, but I do remember the era that captured my imagination. Like millions of Canadians, I grew up watching Hockey Night in Canada every Saturday night with my family. In the pale blue glow of a black and white television, with a screen not much larger than a small pizza box, we watched our hockey heroes take on their rivals. We listened to Danny Gallivan calling the play-by-play like a run-on sentence punctuated by improvised hyperbole like 'a cannonating shot.' Dick Irvin would chime in with astute observations of action the cameras missed, usually spotting an altercation long before it began. He referred to post-whistle scrums as 'the gathering of the clan.' Between periods, Dave Hodge would attempt to pry analysis from sweat-soaked players, who in turn would spew the same sports clichés we've heard since the dawn of intermission interviews. Win or lose, when the broadcast was done, the credits would roll and pro hockey was done for the week.

For me, things really changed in 1972. It's difficult to explain the impact of the Summit Series in the context of today's 24/7 sports media cycle. The series transfixed an entire nation unlike anything I had experienced before. In our modest suburban community it was all anyone talked about, and it wasn't even hockey season. I remember being in elementary school once the series shifted to Soviet Russia. Televisions were wheeled into classrooms as the series supplanted schoolwork. Perhaps the teachers thought this was a good way for students to experience a moment in history. They weren't wrong. Paul Henderson's game winning goal is still the stuff of legend, but on a grander scale, how the series captivated Canadians, and legions of young hockey fans like myself, was truly remarkable.

Hockey is a thread that links me to childhood. Watching the game stirs up memories of those distant Saturday nights. My mother offering up gentle encouragement to players from the corner a sofa. Holding my father's hand as we navigated the narrow halls of the Forum. My brother leaping from his seat at an overtime victory. The joy, the excitement, the sense of togetherness, those are the things that define the game for me.

Lately I've felt we've drifted away from what the game means to us. There is a creeping cynicism in the fandom of professional hockey that has soured the experience. Rivalries have grown vitriolic and hateful. Dedicated fans have become bitter critics, attacking players, coaches and management. Some in the media have shifted their analysis from what they see to what they think, producing agenda-driven opinion pieces designed to stir up rancour. It's easy to get caught up in the swirl of argumentative sniping, particularly when disagreements turn derisive and ugly.

It wasn't always this way. It shouldn't be this way.

I grew up in Montreal during the Canadiens many Stanley Cup championships. I've been to games at the legendary Forum and cheered in the streets at a Stanley Cup parade. As a fan of hockey, I've been extraordinarily blessed, but the thing about that '72 series was how the game united us. It didn't matter which team you supported, or where you lived, it was all about the hockey.

My parents have been gone for many years now. My brother died tragically in 1986, the year the Canadiens won their 23rd Stanley Cup. He was 23.

We can't bring back the past, but we can preserve those things that made it special. Considering all that is happening in the world today, I can't think of a better time to see the game the way we saw it when we first became a fan. Bring back the joy. Bring back the excitement. Bring back the togetherness. Hockey is the thread that links us to our past, and unites us all.

Let's Go

Photo credit Francois Lacasse / NHLI via Getty Images

The lights are dim. Empty stands echo silence save for the muffled clang of a closing door and the whisper of vented air. The stillness is heavy with silent anticipation. A fresh sheets of ice awaits.

History looms heavy over Centre Bell for the players who slip on a jersey that is both new and as old as the game itself. They will carve the ice with blades of gleaming steel and bask in the glow of hometown adulation and echoes of voices silenced by the passing of time. They will grasp and raise a torch, light enough for strong hands, but laden with the weight of past glories and future aspirations.

Anxious spectators far and wide will bind their dreams of greatness to those blessed with extraordinary skills and steadfast determination to rise to this challenge. An elderly fan will don a threadbare jersey for another in an untold number of seasons. A child will don a jersey for the first in an untold number of seasons to come. Records will be set. Records will be broken. Heroes will rise. Heroes will falter. Those passed will live again.

Honouring history and embracing the future falls equally upon the shoulders of those who charge fearlessly into the blinding spotlight. They seek inspiration from the past and in a multitude of voices unified in a common dream. They will fortify themselves against the strength of adversaries, the derision of cynics and the murmurs of self doubt. Eyes locked with rivals and demons alike in the pursuit of a dream that began with their first tentative steps onto fresh ice.

History looms heavy for those that slip on the jersey of the Montreal Canadiens, but greatness is not defined by the achievements of the past. Greatness can only be found in the relentless pursuit of excellence. What matters now, what has always mattered, is the history yet to be written.

Let the ice be carved by blades of gleaming steel. Let the multitude of voices rise. Let rivals face off. Let dreams of greatness be fulfilled.

In the stillness heavy with silent anticipation, a fresh sheet of ice awaits. History waits.

Drop the puck. Let's go.

The Conversation

Back in June, I began a prolonged hiatus from Twitter. To be honest, it wasn't a complete withdrawal, I did check my feed from time to time, but for all intents and purposes I was out of the conversation. While taking a step back from social media can hardly be considered a profoundly meaningful exercise, I do feel the experience was beneficial.

The break was prompted by an elevation in the level of vitriol and personal attacks in the Twitter community. I had also grown weary of the multitude of opinions disguised as fact, based on assumptions, speculation and selective information, sometimes from established members of the media. It seems that spewing invective and expounding wild-eyed theories has become the new normal of our public discourse.

Twitter can be a virtually limitless source of interesting and amusing content, but for me, Habs' Twitter was my favourite online community. Engaging with a wide range of fans and media who share a common interest was informative and entertaining. Over the course of the past year however, the passions of this community had boiled over into a divisive stream of consciousness marked by vitriolic personal attacks at users, Habs players and management. It was as if spewing invective and expounding wild-eyed theories had become the new normal of public discourse. There were those who chose a more reasoned and thoughtful perspective, but sadly those voices were often drowned out by a cacophony of rhetoric.

Twitter's inherent flaw is that thoughtful analysis can rarely be summed up in 140 characters or less, but brash outbursts of anger, ignorance and spite fit nicely, with room to spare. As with similar social media channels, Twitter can represent the best and worst elements of society, but when the latter spills over into the realm of fandom it devalues the experience for everyone.

The time away from Twitter allowed me to reflect on the value of relationships formed through social media. Are those interactions really any different than those we experience face-to-face? All social engagements, regardless of the forum, should be founded on the principal of mutual respect and understanding if they are to have any value at all. In a constructive conversation, people can differ in opinion and maintain civility. Healthy communication goes far beyond sharing ideas with like-minded individuals, it also requires an openness to explore alternative viewpoints that serve to expand knowledge and understanding.

I have considered that stepping out of the conversation means one fewer voice to counter a sea of negativity and derision. I do wonder if the forum itself is simply a magnet for voices of bluster and scorn, but perhaps that is only true if we allow it to be so.

So, with a modicum of trepidation, I wade back into the fray, though I do so with a proviso. I choose not to engage with those who resort to demeaning personal attacks or those who distort facts to further a narrow viewpoint. Such things undermine healthy conversations and do not belong in any social forum. There will be moments to celebrate and lament, with an assortment of diverse opinions and perspectives, but the best part of the Habs' Twitter community will always be the relationships grown from connecting to fans of one of the greatest franchises in hockey.

Go Habs, Go.

Courage Over Violence

The annual World Junior Hockey tournament will kick off on Boxing Day and the IIHF (International Ice Hockey Federation) gets another chance to showcase its brand of hockey to fans around the world.

IIHF rules differ from the NHL in a number of ways, but three stand out immediately. Zero tolerance for head shots, fighting and goaltender interference. Regardless of circumstance, a head shot results either in a minor penalty with a 10 minute misconduct or 5 minute major plus a game misconduct and often a one-game suspension. Fighting costs a team a 5 minute major with a game misconduct and possible a one-game suspension. As for goaltender interference, play can be stopped for merely standing in the crease.

Despite what some might consider restrictive enforcement of these rules, World Junior Hockey is easily the most entertaining, face-paced and hard-hitting brand of hockey you will ever watch. Audiences for this tournament have grown at a rapid pace over the 25-year span that Canadian cable sports network TSN began covering the event. Outside of national pride, its entertainment value alone is the main reason why people tune in.

Yet somehow this formula seems completely lost on the world's most watched ice hockey league, the NHL. So far this season, the league's lack of enforcement on rules governing player protection are an indication of a regression from previous years. Fans have witnessed more than a few uncalled head shots and it's been open season on goaltenders. Sports broadcasters still glorify fighting in their highlight packages, and we still hear the stoneage argument that we need bigger players to protect a team's stars.

It's time to call bullshit on this tacit acceptance and promotion of violence once and for all. The arguments are so old, so tired and so immature that it's actually becoming painful to read and hear. The evidence for the long-term effects of concussions is already out there and ignoring it doesn't make one right. In fact, all of the acts of violence I have cited thus far are against the rules in the NHL, but the league still lacks the courage to properly enforce them.

Sidney Crosby is one concussion away from ending a spectacular career and Carey Price is one net-crash away from the league losing one of the best goaltenders in their history. This seems to matter little to the NHL who would much rather kowtow to rubbernecking cretins, who've never come close to having 220 pounds of muscle come at them with sharpened skate blades, let alone endured a blow to the head from a fist the size of a Christmas ham.

The problem is, officials do not have the means to control the escalation of violence in a game because their punitive effect is negligible. A minor penaltly for running a goalie or an elbow to the head won't stop anyone from attempting to do it again. And can we please stop with these gray-area rules? Enough with debating about intent. Nobody asks when a player is tripped if the offender meant to do it (sometimes they didn't), such an argument is irrelevant to officials. Same should be true for contact with the head or running a goalie. At the professional level a player should know how to check without impacting the head or have to be told that goaltenders are vulnerable.

And for all the advocates of fighting, read this slowly and several times until you understand: Concussions result from a single, or repeated blows to the head. The long-term effects can be devastating. It is not okay.

It cannot be overstated that a serious or fatal injury will eventually occur because of something preventable and the league will have no choice but to take action to save face. Pretending this is not an eventuality is both ignorant and cowardly.

In many ways the NHL are the stewards of ice hockey. As such, they have a responsibility not only to protect and preserve the game, but to make it better. Continued inaction only serves to demonstrate that the NHL values greed over it's own players. I can only hope they wake up to this reality before it's too late.