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.