Gains and Losses

"Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock..."

Gwen Stefani: "What You Waiting For?"

"Tricked me once, but I won't let you trick me twice..."

Kelis: "Trick Me".

Before part three of Frozen Dreams, which'll be following tomorrow, let's have a quick look at the news, which has been somewhat neglected on here recently, starting with more signings in Edinburgh, and moving on to problems in Sheffield which couldn't really come at a worse time as the countdown ticks on towards the start of the season..

Capitals sign Martin Cingel and Mark Smith: Edinburgh are slowly building a roster which just might bring a whiff of the glory days back to Murrayfield, depending on their final signings. Their adopted Scot from Slovakia, Martin Cingel, returns for his eighth season in Capitals colours, joined by useful Lithuanian forward Darius Pliskauskas, who returns for his second spell in the Scottish capital and possibly has the best song in the Elite League ("Super-cali-fragilistic, Darius Plis-kau-skas!") just edging out his team-mate's "Cingel Bells"...

Mark Smith, meanwhile, is an ex-CHL defenceman who looks like a strong addition to the Caps' defensive core, even if he may spend the season in the shadow of the very exciting looking Chris Allen in the skilful d-man stakes...

Matus Petricko signs for Vipers:...alongside Michel Robinson in net. Aye well, if they have a defence worth its salt, Robinson should be a just-about-safe pair of hands..and Petricko is a proven player in this league after spells in Newcastle, Cardiff and Nottingham...

Steelers Screwed:...by Eurologix, their title sponsor until a week ago, after the ex-Telford sponsors pulled out without warning. This has caused a spectacular mix of schadenfreude and much hand-wringing on the forums, mainly over how bad it is that it's happened twice. Of course, you get some league zealots on both sides trying to put the "see, people only care when it's a big-league/the EIHL will eat itself now" arguments, which quite frankly are tired, repetitive and if nothing else, bloody boring to read every time anything happens with any club in either league. They're now the Field Electrical Steelers as mentioned last week...

Nope, no typo there:...not the Sheffield Steelers-as officially any semblance to a place-name has been dropped by the Yorkshire club. All I shall say about this, not being a Steelers fan but well aware of the need for an identity for sports teams, is that if Coventry ever become the "insert company here" Blaze, with no mention of my (adopted) home town*, then this blog will suddenly see a lot more fire-and-brimstone

*for those of you who're bothered, I'm half-Kentish, and despite living in Coventry since...well, ever, have something of a southerner's pride for my roots in the Garden of England-more so than the Sky Blue City, if I'm honest...

Speaking of pride...: The Blaze shirt designers appear to have put theirs on the shelf for this season...they're cheap, cluttered and the so-called "anniversary" jersey for the Blaze's 10th year is a (very) cheap Penguins rip-off, with only the fortuitous coincidence of the Pens jersey also being on a base of sky-blue allowing the Blaze PR to claim it's a "Coventry-inspired" jersey. But enough of my ranting-judge for yourself here

And that's a lightning blast through the major news of the past few days..

Scream If You Wanna Go Slower...

"Cause everybody's shaking like the end of the world.
And everybody's waiting on the end of the world"
The Gaslight Anthem: "Say I Won't (Recognize)"


"The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming. You'd better run"
Florence and the Machine: "Dog Days are Over"


Remember those heady days in Britain, when salaries rose like rockets, and in the world of British hockey, particularly the EIHL, the talk wasn't about who was breaking the wage-cap in the EIHL, but just who was breaking it by the biggest margin, fuelled by the income stream from fans who could soak up any increase in ticket prices as long as they got to watch hockey-and more than that, were prepared to do so?


Well, like the fairytale-built-on-borrowed-money that was daily living in the last few years in the world outside the ice-rink, they're dead now-killed fast, brutally and extremely noisily by the credit crunch, spiralling costs of "keeping the world safe"/"unjust wars" (depending on your political persuasion) and thieving bankers (a view almost everyone agrees on). Only certain sections of British hockey don't seem to realise it yet.

Coventry have just released the prices for their pre-season games, which has started a fantastic debate amongst fans, given that they're at the bargain, reduced-from-regular-season cost of...erm...fifteen quid-an amazing zero-percent discount. For comparison, Sheffield and Nottingham are putting their warm-up games on for twelve and ten pounds (25% and 33% off respectively), and the Blaze are the only ones (as far as I can tell) stinging their recession-bloodied fans for full price to see what, essentially, are meaningless "get to know you" games.

I should point out at this point that, being a young, single bloke with very few (relatively) financial commitments, I am very lucky, in that this will not affect me beyond, perhaps, spending a little less over the month on amusements than I have been doing all summer, and £45 over the course of a month is doable-after all, I shall be spending more than that for the other seven months of the year, and quite frankly I would go and watch a hockey almost anywhere if a Coventry team were involved (well, with the exception of the Chargers)-indeed, I sustained my hockey fix over the early part of the summer with the help of the ENL and Coventry Phoenix women's teams-although the second one at least was helped by being friends with some of the players...and was free.

However, if you're a family of four, even to attend the Aalborg game (return of Neal Martin and Jody Lehman to the Skydome, which, let's face it, is the major reason most people will go, however much the Blaze claim that they chose the opposition based purely on the "high standard" and didn't even think about the fact that they'd get an extra 250 or so through the door based purely on the fact that these two ex-Blaze stars are playing-an excuse which holds about as much weight as an anorexic tapeworm) will cost £38 quid for two adults and two under-16s. Or, to you, family of four with one kid 16 or over...£52. Per game. Before the "proper" stuff starts.

Ow.

Although, saying that, I suppose the Blaze have to make the eight thousand quid a month rent they're paying for the giant white-elephant that is Crosby's somehow, on top of the player's wages...

I ask the marketing gurus amongst you, though...how many families are going to pay £120 in two weeks to watch three warm-up games...even allowing for the "first game of the season" and "Blaze legend" pulls of the Sheffield and Aalborg matches? Especially when that £120 is needed just to keep them clothed, warm and fed in these tricky economic times, and there's a good chance one or both of the parents is recently unemployed? (For reference, the West Midlands has statistically been one of the worst places for job-losses in the current recession-look it up).

OK, I've singled out the Blaze here, perhaps unfairly, but look around the rest of the league, once the season starts, and you wonder what planet some owners are on. Clearly one where they can afford to pour money into their clubs-because looking at the quality of the rosters in general, one can only assume that the wage costs are as high as ever, especially with the weakened pound meaning that imports can, effectively, justify higher wage demands than they'd normally give. It can't be long before fans effectively turn round and start with the little things, like deciding they can do without a replica shirt this season, or merchandise that previously they'd have snapped up. From there, particularly if teams aren't as good as promised, it's a short step to picking and choosing games, lower crowds, and all that that entails.

Oh yes, and don't rely on sponsorship to bail your team out either, Mr & Mrs Hockey Team Owner. The Sheffield Steelers have just had their title sponsor Eurologix pull out, with the mantle taken up by the thriving giant that is local sparky (admittedly on a big scale) Field Electrical Services, and the Blaze going from a national construction company to Coventry Plumbing and Heating Supplies, a local plumber's warehouse. Tellingly, both these sponsors were previously sponsors of the respective teams in some way, but nowhere near the most lucrative...

Now, I don't doubt that these sponsors are fine companies in their own right...however, being small-to-medium-sized at best, they too are doubtless struggling in the current economic climate, which means they, like all other businesses, will be cutting back their spending if they've got any sense. Which means the top line will be receding faster than Brad Voth's hairline-a trend which, we can assume, is replicated to some degree all over the country.

And yet, despite this, the clubs continue, seemingly, to think "well, we can charge the same as we did when the fans packing our rinks were lighting their period-break cigarettes with spare tenners and then putting them out with their fourteenth spare bit of merchandise, just for a giggle."

Which do you want-money or fans? Because, at the current prices, you might get the money to begin with, but both that and the crowd will start to trickle away...and as for getting newbies in-it's hard enough without people worrying that it's too costly for what it is-which is a semi-professional league of a minority sport in this country.

Dropping prices down a bit may mean that a few more people move from "once or twice a month" to "every home game"-which means more guaranteed money in the coffers, bigger crowds and a hell of a PR boost for the club that does it...

But it would take balls of solid steel to try it, and, however successful team owners in Britain have been in their other businesses...are they a) willing to bite the bullet and go for it to secure themselves a sustainable sports team, or b) take the easy option knowing that there's still a hardcore of fans out there like you and me that love hockey too much to stay away from the rink, even if it means they have to cut back in other areas?

I suspect the answer, driven by the cold hard reality that owners run clubs as businesses, not as labours of love, and there is no room for fandom in finance, is b).

And that could ensure that the owners, while thinking they're ensuring their clubs survival in these hard times, are actually slowly but surely choking the life out of both their teams and the sport in Britain itself. At least in its current form.

To take inspiration from no less a source than Top Gear, who produced this awesome, dark and foreboding view of how the recession has affected the part of life that is more about soul than money for their ending to the last series on Sunday....

Maybe, for British hockey too, we could be seeing an ending...

Keep keeping your eye on the puck.

Frozen Dreams, Part Two: Punch-Drunk Love and Playoff Hockey

See part one here for an explanation of the whole "Frozen Dreams" thing if you're unaware of it. If you are-read on for part two...

"Someone call a tow-truck, 'cause this is a f*cking breakdown!"
Motionless in White: "Just When You Thought We Couldn't Get Any More Emo, We Go And Pull A Stunt Like This"


"Someday those scribbled lines will be straight
and conversations will never bare your name"
Rookie of the Year: "The Blue Roses"

I fell in love for the first time to the soundtrack of a thousand people roaring with pure, primal, unrestrained joy as their dreams came true in one magical instant.

Admittedly, it wasn't my somewhat-late initiation into the mysteries of human emotion that caused this reaction-in fact, I very much doubt whether me suddenly realising what this weird thing that caused people to pour their souls into writing songs, poems and everything else in between about since time immemorial was had anything to do with it. It was far more likely to be the fact that Ash Tait had just crowned an incredible season in Coventry by taking a pass from Jozef Lukac, deking once, twice and beating Nottingham's goalie, Ladi Kudrna, in overtime to win the Blaze the playoffs, and incidentally sealing the first Triple Crown of league, Challenge Cup and playoff wins (the Crossover Cup competition being won by Belfast even though there was no official trophy presented means that there is still dispute over whether or not this qualifies as a Grand Slam) in British hockey since Sheffield's tainted 2000/01 triumph.

It just so happened, however, that a great milestone in my "normal" life happened at the same time as a massive one in that of my hockey life...and ever since then, even though both the girl I fell in love with and every last trace of the celebrations of the 5th of April 2005 have vanished into the mists of time, they've been inextricably linked in my mind.

I remember, as a very cynical and somewhat unlucky-in-love 20-year-old, turning up for that bright spring weekend in Nottingham with a strange feeling that something momentous was going to happen. After all, optimism was rampant in the Blaze camp after a team containing such glorious names as Martin, McNamara, Lehman, Calder, Carlson, and NHLer Wade Belak had steam-rolled their way through all competition to the league title-their unearthly Challenge Cup Final win against Cardiff (6-1 up after the first leg, Cardiff go 4-0 up at home after being presented as dead and buried and then, in possibly the most exciting game of hockey I've ever seen, somehow lose 5-4 to a Blaze team seemingly backed by all the forces of the hockey gods, with Bari McKenzie scoring the game winner!) only strengthened the impression.

Saturday passed in agonies of anticipation-the Blaze sneaked through against Sheffield and Nottingham beat Cardiff in order to set up a meeting of the league champions v the home club. I honestly can't remember much about the Saturday game...if asked to recall that weekend, however, I do remember first becoming properly aware of the girl who was to cause me to be hit by a thunderbolt the following day.

Katie was part of my group of friends...fairly short, soft voice and with strikingly beautiful green-blue eyes and strawberry-blonde hair...but up until then we'd not exchanged more than a few words occasionally, as you do with groups of friends, as she was more a friend-of-a-friend within the group. However, she came to my notice properly rather painfully during a game of what might best be called "foot hockey" outside the NIC, when, despite being a few inches shorter and several stone lighter, she caused me to collide painfully with one of the supporting pillars of the NIC down at the Castle Inn side...putting an end to the game and meaning that I was limping around the NIC, and the trip to Rock City afterward, for the whole evening. On the plus side, at least it started a conversation.


That Saturday night was a strange one. I couldn't sleep a wink. At the time I thought it was due to the potential for history to be maid the following day, but looking back, Katie may have had more than a little to do with it...

Sunday passed in a blur, mostly-the third-place game between Sheffield and Cardiff was absolutely dire, notable only for goalie Jason Cugnet playing as an outskater. Tension rose throughout the game until, by the time the teams stepped onto the ice with Blaze chasing a historic treble and Panthers roared on by a sea of yellow-and-black at the horseshoe end, right next to the Blaze crowd, my guts were churning from the tension.

Then, everything came into sharp focus. I remember that. I don't remember much about the first two periods, though-I didn't see either Neal Martin's go-ahead goal or Nick Boynton's equaliser 40 seconds later at the start of the second period, thanks mainly to the queues at NIC catering, which meant I only made it back into the arena just in time to see the Panthers celebrating. I don't remember anything else except that there was no other score.

The third period, with the game still tied. was horrific, as medical science (I think, looking back, that the virus I'd had the previous week came back for one last spiteful hurrah) and the sheer tension of the game combined to produce a chemical reaction that gave me crippling stomach pains. Mark Cadotte somehow missing an open net from three feet out, which would have put the Panthers ahead, was the final straw for me, causing my body to rebel violently and me to barely make it to the toilet before the NIC hot-dog and over-priced pint of Tetley's went out the same way they'd came in about half an hour earlier.

I sat outside for a minute or two to recover, then stood up to go back in and experienced the scariest sensation I've ever had at a hockey game.

My legs wouldn't work. My mind was screaming at me to get back in-it was the third period of a tied playoff final, for God's sake!-but my body just did not want to go back through that door and risk seeing Blaze fall at the final hurdle, and nothing I could think or say would change its mind.

Then, as if my nerve-endings weren't wound tight enough, the doors opened, and Katie came out...

You're probably expecting some sort of fairy-tale here, but there isn't one. She and a few others had seen me leave my seat at great speed, and were simply coming out to check I was OK. We didn't even exchange more than a few words..and back in she went, along with everyone else.

However, the next few minutes saw me go temporarily insane. The fact that she'd came out to look for me somehow set off a crazy internal conversation and bargaining with Fate in my fevered mind, as I sat alone in the cavernous spaces of the NIC foyer and realised that I'd liked her since I met her a month or two earlier-the gist of which was "you have to go back in there-and if Blaze win, then it's a sign that if you ask Katie out, there might be a chance"

And then the hooter went.

Jesus...it's gone to overtime!

I stood up, marshalled all the resources of my fevered body, and made my way back in to watch, death-or-glory-type thoughts in my mind. Suddenly, there was Lukac, arrowing a pass to Tait, and the ice opened up in front of him...

I don't mind admitting that, if you could hear or see all the prayers rising up to the hockey gods at that moment, mine would have drowned them all out with ease-it wasn't so much a whisper as a silent scream of protest and pleading.

As he went in, I swear my heart stopped. I was still breathing, but to all intents and purposes, my blood had frozen. As the Blaze captain played chicken with Ladi Kudrna, it wasn't just the dreams of every Blaze fan he had on his stick, but seemingly my fragile, fevered soul and every last hope I'd allowed to build up, unawares, about this girl I barely knew.

He scored. As you know if you follow British hockey.

As the celebrations exploded around me, I searched the crowd for people I knew...saw many, many faces that had become friends originally through a shared love for hockey and then just because they had...and was filled with a sense of shared joy almost as strong as any other I've ever had.

And then, I saw her. To this day, whether she meant it or not, I swear our eyes met, and Katie smiled at me-and at that point, even as Coventry went wild around me, there might as well have been no-one else in the room...

Two months later, we became a couple. A year after that, for reasons which are still unclear to me, and out of the blue, she left me. I haven't seen her in nearly three years now, even though I'm still friends with most of that same group of people.

I like to think I've moved on now (although, as everyone does with their first love, I still wonder how she's getting on occasionally). But, when conversation turns to that magical weekend amongst Blaze fans, or when I hear the commentary clip from BBC radio of Tait scoring, I don't remember the season, or the celebrations, or the sight of the goal first of all (although these are memories that I and every other Blaze fan will probably carry forever).

I remember that smile. And, even though Katie and I have gone our separate ways and the chances of me seeing her again are near-as-dammit non-existent, I remember how beautiful it was, how it made me feel, and how it added something even more to my already-stratospheric levels of joy.

And that is why, however many trophies I see the Blaze win in my lifetime (and there've been a few since then) the 04/05 playoff win, even though I spent much of the game throwing up or feeling almost catatonic with tension, will always be the most special one.

Thanks, Katie.

Keep keeping your eye on the puck...

Friday Fancies...

"Sad enough to say that
Alone I could barely light a match
But together we can burn this place down."
Four Year Strong: "Heroes Get Remembered, Legends Never Die"

Let's blast quickly through the news of the week, then.

Panthers sign Cameron Mann: Note the complete lack of any bad pun whatsoever, Panthers PR people. There's no need. The man himself and his pedigree shouts loudly enough. Cameron Mann is a 32 year-old, 6' and 209lb right-winger who comes to the East Midlands from Duisburg of the DEL...and having been to the German city in the Rhineland while I lived over there, I can confirm that this is one of the few signings of the summer in Britain where Nottingham as a city has been used as a significant part of the bait-Sheffield fans may mock their near neighbours and everyone else might know the home of the Panthers only for Robin Hood and gun crime (possibly unfairly) but Duisburg is one of the few places on the planet where a nuclear holocaust would cause several million pounds' worth of improvements....thus making Nottingham look like the Garden of Eden in comparison.

As for the Cameron Mann press-release, which saw the Panthers start with the awful pun to end all awful puns and then descend further into copywriter hell with this actual quote:
"The GMB Nottingham Panthers have been thrilled and excited by all the signing news so far but now we think we’ve added extra cream and a cherry on top"...

Let's just say that the art of classy PR may be dead in the East Midlands. But anyway...

(Hold on-I think I just threw up in my mouth at the thought of Corey Neilson and friends bursting out of the world's most hellish chocolate pudding which that piece of writing conjures...)

Wait a second...

Wait another second...

OK, I'm good...

Enough parochial city-bashing and strange-pudding related thoughts-back to Mr Mann himself. Well, he's a bit good. Having never played below AHL level since his junior career, and being a consistent scorer throughout his time in the AHL and Europe (plus over 100 games in the NHL), the Panthers' roster just got a whole lot better. If this guy can form an effective partnership with Sean McAslan and Bruce Richardson, then that line could be grade-A, blow-the-roof-off dynamite in the EIHL.

But then, this is the Panthers we're talking about...so wait and see.

Stingrays re-sign Matt Reynolds: Another unsung hero of the EIHL last year returns to Hull...Reynolds and Konstantin Kalmikov provided much of the Humbersiders' offensive threat last year along with Jeff Glowa-with the three of them having some very decent-looking team-mates this time round, the Stingrays are looking like the dark times under Rick Strachan have been well and truly swept away.

Vipers sign Tyler Kindle: I so nearly went for a "kindle the fires of success"-type pun here, and had it not been for the jaw-dropping awfulness of the Panthers PR mentioned above, I would have done. Thank you, Nottingham. Thank you very much.

Anyway, Kindle is a 6', 180lb d-man who appears to be the counterpart to Ryan Mahrle, as the Vipers look to throw away the "all brawn and sod-all else" image with another skilful d-man to drive them forward from the back. He appears to have played very few games last season, but has consistently been putting up the points in the ECHL, including 10+34 in 2007/08, so could be a genuine offensive threat on Tyneside. And, unlike the tactics used by the Vipers at times last season, the word "offensive" is the good kind...

That sound you heard just now was a shotgun going off, aimed unerringly at a foot: News comes from Sheffield, who today announced the re-signing of defenceman Randy Dagenais, that his counterpart Steve Munn may have left himself out of the Steelers plans this season after waiting too long to begin negotiations.

Erm...What?!

If Dave Simms, Dave Matsos and co aren't now banging on Munn's door with a sealed-and-delivered contract that only needs his signature, then you have to fear for their sanity. Munn was one of, if not the best defencemen in the league last season, and is the rock the Steelers need in front of Kevin Reiter, particularly with Rod Sarich now moving up to forward...

Assuming that he's now priced himself out of a move abroad and is looking to stay in the UK, expect there to be a scramble for his signature-with Belfast now looking (with no disrespect to Kevin Phillips) a little weaker on defence, Vipers still with a player or two spare and Edinburgh making a wave or two with their signings, there are several possible UK destinations. I still feel he'll most likely return to Sheffield, however.

There you go...a quick run-through the big news of the week so far...I was going to produce the second part of Frozen Dreams, but you may have to wait until late Friday or Saturday for that one due to it now being nearly 1:30 am...

Keep keeping your eye on the puck...

Frozen Dreams, part one

"I wanted to be like you
I wanted everything
So I tried to be like you
And I got swept away"

Michelle Branch: "All You Wanted"

I don't know whether any of you out there have read one of the defining books of sports fandom, that little bit of genius by Nick Hornby known as Fever Pitch. But I have, and while staring at a blank screen trying to think of something to write that wasn't simply a "Panthers sign Cameron Mann-he's quite good"-type post, I suddenly had a flash-thought of just how much of my life is now taken up by hockey, whether it be attempting to play it (badly), writing about it, watching it or discussing it with like-minded lunatics who would rather spend their weekends from August to April shivering in a variety of giant fridges then doing...well, normal things, like going out and getting ratted of a weekend.

Not only that, but later, when I was lying in bed after giving up the idea of writing anything productive and turning the computer off in in a hissy fit, the thought recurred to me, along with the disturbing realisation that there are many, many events in my life that, however obscurely, are linked with either a particular game or a season in my mind, especially as I started watching the sport just as the veil of childhood was lifted and all the things that adolescence and adulthood brings, like first love, first loss of love, the move from school to actually having to live your life, and all the other REALLY MAJOR LIFE STUFF was beginning. This, then, led to the idea of using the blog, just occasionally, to produce something similar to Fever Pitch in a Blaze version. It could be horrific, it could be good, you could cringe like all hell as you get an idea of the person who writes these ramblings and his relationship with this great game of ours, or you could even like it.

Oh-and the title? Blame a good friend of mine for that...my personal choice was "Dreams of Winter" until it was pointed out that this "sounded like an emo porn-film", which, while making me laugh far too much, wasn't exactly the effect I wanted.

Oh, and it will jump around a bit-don't expect it to be in chronological order or anything like that.

Anyway...on we go with the first one...

Life, Love and Gareth Owen (Blaze v Dundee Stars, 2002/2003)

I've always had a soft spot for the underdog...the tenth forward, or the journeyman who rarely gets the ice-time or the notice of his team-mates. Like the back-up goalie, they spend most of their time putting their kit on, sitting on the benches, shouting encouragement to their team-mates, but very rarely get onto the ice or enjoy their moment in the sun-even if their team wins a trophy their presence is often something of an afterthought-their laps of honour come and go, and recognition is little more than a few mentions or empty phrases like "a great guy to have around"...

Gareth Owen, at least where the Coventry Blaze are concerned, was always this player. Signed for his second spell at the club during the BNL title-winning year in 02/03, and remaining at the club for their first Elite League season, he was very rarely seen on the ice, but always entertaining on it. So entertaining, in fact he's spawned his own phenomenon among some Blaze fans, adding to the hockey vocabulary and being immortalized forever in the phrase "the Gizmo Shift":

Gizmo Shift (adj.): a phrase used to describe a passage of play whereby a player steps onto the ice, skates around like a bat out of hell, lands a hit or two, gets nailed with a massive check and touches the puck once or twice in the corners, while hacing a shot that fails to come anywhere near scoring. Named after British hockey player Gareth Owen, who was a master of such shifts and became a crowd favourite for them during his time at the Coventry Blaze.

I always liked Owen...mainly because his style of play appealed to me so much...he was clearly nowhere near the most skilled player on the ice, but he simply didn't (and doesn't to this day) give a flying puck. This approaching life with joyful abandon was something that was far from what I, as a 19-year-old who was always running around in the shadow of more popular friends, generally something of a figure of fun and horrifically, pathologically self-conscious around girls, was able to manage...and in my tortured, prone-to-juvenile-association nineteen-year-old-mind, this whole expenditure of effort and doing his absolute best but always being overshadowed by others in just about every aspect seemed to echo the way I felt about myself...I used to wonder if, like me, he ever, just once or twice, wondered if his moment in the sun was ever going to come or whether he'd be in the background, always considered good to have around, and any success he gained being viewed by the in-crowd as a good thing, as long as he didn't try and get up with the REALLY popular kids. while others took the plaudits, glory and, yes, girls.

Reading that back, you probably get the sense that my late teenage years probably weren't the best of my life, emotionally...and you'd be right. But one of the few nights in that season when I was able to look on the future outside with more than apprehension and something of a dark-tinged outlook was the night in 2003 when this happened.

On the surface, it's a fairly simple hockey fight...until you break it down..not only is Gizmo getting a decent shift, but he flattens Tony Hand (who just happened to be considered the best player in the league...he had, and still has, an aura about him which makes flattening him akin to a builder shouting "get 'em out, love" at the Queen as she passes by on the way to Trooping the Colour) but he then goes in on a breakaway, nearly scores (somehow, the fact that he doesn't just seems to fit the whole Gizmo Shift thing) and then does the unthinkable by actually fighting with Tony Hand!

That night, if I remember correctly, Dundee won 5-0, since the Blaze had won the BNL title the week before (that one is another story, in fact) and it was a tempramental battle with Kurt Irvine and Hilton Ruggles both scrapping with Johan Boman and Chris Conaboy, but this has all been absorbed into the mists of time...the Gizmo scrap, however, has become a part of Blaze legend...certainly, he was the star of that game by some distance despite barely getting on the ice.

Looking back on it afterwards, I remember having the phrase "every dog has his day" come to mind...it seemed that this was some sort of proof that everyone gets their moment in the sun, somehow...even if you have to wait for it behind a ridiculous number of other people. Gizmo is now playing in Telford, where he is also immensely popular, but the fans' love for him in Coventry, born largely out of that scrap one February Sunday night in a nothing game, is something else.

He was somebody, finally. And I'm not quite sure what this proves about my thinking, Blaze fans, or whatever, but the fact that even the "little" guy had had life smile upon him cheered me up immeasurably for quite a while after that (and I needed plenty of cheering up thanks to a social life only slightly less hectic and exciting than a night in the deepest and darkest parts of the Gobi Desert)...it was a source of consolation in its proof that if you kept plugging away and waited long enough, life would reward you with a spot in the sun eventually, somehow...

If I'm brutally honest with myself, there are some things that I wanted back then as a nineteen-year-old that still haven't come to me as a slightly-more-grizzled-and-wise twenty-five year old...but if I ever start to convince myself that the girl for me isn't out there or that attempting to make myself a career beyond a job that means you work to live rather than live to work is fruitless, I can watch that fifty seconds or so of grainy footage on youtube, smile and think "well, if a place in legend and people's hearts can be found on a cold February Saturday in a horrifically dull Blaze loss, it can be found anywhere...as long as you keep looking".

Thanks, Giz...

Don't worry...we'll return to news some time soon...along with a few more glimpses into life, love and hockey history. Until then, though, keep keeping your eye on the puck...

Live from Tumbleweed Central...

"This is Radio Nowhere...
Is there anyone alive out there?"
Bruce Springsteen: "Radio Nowhere"

God, it's quiet. After a burst of news and rumours last week, and much discussion over the Giants which is still going on over on KOTG but appears to have died down everywhere else, the news of signings is becoming less and less frequent as rosters become more complete and offices shut down for the summer break before the run-in to the season begins in early August. However, there are still a few crumbs to pick over...

It's nice when your sources prove reliable: Andre Payette is now officially confirmed as joining the Manchester Phoenix as their second import (Ed Courtenay for the third, anyone?...). A great entertainer and pantomime villain has left the EIHL-and you get the feeling most EPL fans, those from Manchester excepted, really don't know what's coming. Payette's one of those players who has had all sorts of myth, legend and half-truth build up around him during his time in the UK, but watching him play in the flesh when he's entered the "Payette Zone" of complete and total insanity combined with no small amount of skill is something few who've seen him play will soon forget. Fans of the EPL, and Phoenix in particular, you've got an experience akin to riding down a grassy bank in a shopping trolley coming-it will be wild, there'll be bumps in the road, you won't know exactly where it'll end up once it's started and outside influences will have no control whatsoever over what happens.

Oh, and there's a chance it could all go wrong very quickly, very loudly, and with much violence.

Buckle up. :)

Who got the talent in the Phillips house? We shall see: Back when the Blaze were winning trebles and Joe Watkins was still considered the top British goalie, he played against his brother Tom a few times while in net for London, and the Blaze's Watkins brother seemed to revel in scoring past him, and without fail triggering a cheerful little ditty from the Blaze crowd which went something along the lines of (to the Sunderland FC song "Super Kevin Phillips")...

"Who got the talent in the Watkins house? (x3)
Super Tommy Watkins".

Not exactly comedy gold, but it seemed to work in getting the point across as to which brother was having the better game, even provoking the goalie Watkins into what may have been a repeated horizontal wave of the glove every time it started up, to acknowledge the wit of the travelling Blaze support throughout one game in Lee Valley. Although it was strange that he performed the gesture at crotch level, thus preventing half the Blaze crowd from seeing it, it was still greeted with a cheer if I remember correctly...;)

Anyway-this reminiscence does have a point. Belfast have now provided another ripe opportunity for sibling-related taunting, by replacing Dave Phillips, who as mentioned earlier on this month is AHL-bound, with his older, slightly-less-illustrious brother Kevin, who joins after a career mainly spent in his home team of Hull alongside his brother. However, recently the younger Dave has risen to something approaching stardom, while Kevin's career has, if not exactly stalled at EPL level, certainly not progressed with the same rapidity...it will be interesting to see how he performs now he's being given a chance as a d-man expected to consistently produce at EIHL level...

Facebook. It's the future, apparently: From the "important, if true" file comes the mention that Tylor Michel (stats here) is the final import in Cardiff, after being befriended on Facebook by a Devils fan and supposedly confirming in an online chat that he was on the way. He looks like another example of a young, hungry player coming to Britain to prove himself after a decent start in the ECHL...but let's see the official announcement before we comment any further...

Matt Myers. Now there's some average-sized skates to fill: Nottingham have signed Ross Dalgliesh away from Edinburgh, meaning that Mark Garside is the only remaining member of the trio-nicknamed-by-me-and-probably-no-one-else as the "Top Scots" from last year to remain in Edinburgh. Dalgliesh will slot into the gap left by Matt Myers, who is trying his luck in the ECHL this season.

Believe it or not, there is hockey out there:..summer is traditionally a time for recreational teams to be the most active, but here in Coventry the Chaos are turning that activity into a bid to help charity, holding a charity match on the 2nd August which, were it a golf game, would probably be the equivalent of a pro-am tournament, as rec players (me included) line up side-by-side with such well-known names in British hockey as Luc Chabot, Paul Thompson, James Pease, and others in a game between two mixed pro-am teams. It's all in aid of the NSPCC, doors are open from 6:15pm on the day at the Skydome, with f.o around 7:15, and details can be found on facebook here...

I told you it was a quiet time...but there is a Falla-esque post in the works which should appear in the next few days...

Keep keeping your eye on the puck...

Pucks, Half-Truths, and Stick Tape

"Beneath the concrete there’s a sound...a muffled cry below the ground
There is a poison in the air...a mix of chemicals and fear
Mama, I've just hunches, I’m not sure what they mean..."
Maximo Park: "Our Velocity"

It's amazing how even the merest mention of money can polarise British hockey...after Wednesday's post, the hare of speculation is off and running, chased hard by the hounds...it's not taken long for the denials to come loud and long in the forum world, with Wednesday's mention of events in Northern Ireland being dismissed as "made-up", "overblown" and my personal favourite..."chav rubbish".

However, along with the slings and arrows have also come a few hints of truth...certainly there are many in British hockey forum-land wondering if it's possible to protest too much, and exactly what is going on, if anything, behind the calm facade of the Odyssey.

I should state once again that anything further is not fact unless clearly presented as such-however, it seems that the "Giants owing money" rumour may have some foundation-the Breakaway has heard a whisper that, in tthe course of fixture arrangements last season, there may have seen promises made to that seemingly weren't kept, leaving other teams out of pocket.
Further, it seems that the dates on several occations, at least those on the "other" side of the Irish Sea, were arranged without any consultation between the clubs involved, with no room for maneouvre, with travel arrangements made by the Giants in order to make them possible. However, despite promising to take care of the expense, the money reportedly never appeared.

This one could run a while...

Sharks in the Water

"Baby, there's a shark in the water
There's something underneath my bed"...
V.V Brown: "Shark In the Water"

Interestingly, the rumours floating round about Belfast's potential financial problems, as mentioned in yesterday's post, have taken on a life of their own. After yesterday's rumours of "cost-cutting" appeared to be substantiated by those far closer to the Giants on this Kingdom Of the Giants thread (you need to be registered to view, but the basic gist of it is that several posters have come out appearing to confirm that cuts have been made within the Giants office recently), the Breakaway has now heard whispers from several areas that one organisation within British hockey has not received money it was promised by the Giants last season, despite waiting for several months.

Now, I should point out that, being a mere fan, with no connection to the Giants organisation, and thus no access to either the Giants' accounts or the league's dealings, I'm not sure of the veracity of this, and am presenting it as nothing more than a rumour....however, once again this information has come from a reliable source within the parties concerned.

Make of it what you will...

A Dance To The Music Of Time...

"Out here, the birds don't sing
Out here, the fields don't grow
Out here, the bells don't ring...
And the good girls die"
The Killers: "A Dustland Fairytale"

I'm really starting to despise summer now, with a passion...simply because the burning hockeyless wasteland of each day seems without end (there's only so long you can lie on a beach, particularly if, like me, you have ice and snow in your soul and prefer the velvety inky blackness of midwinter evenings to the relentless, glaring glow of midsummer), the weekend nights, whatever you're doing, still miss the excitement of game time, the news comes in dribs and drabs, and rumours and half-truths are about as fun as it gets...

But rumours and half truths are better than nothing-there's even some genuine news in there, so as we continue to dance aimlessly and often drunkenly through summer with nothing more than the odd crumb of speculation to sustain our hockey appetites, let's have a look at it before departing into the realms of wild speculation and, as the title hints at, Icetunes returns with a few music gems that can take away the sting of hockeyless nights...as well as provide a bloody good accompaniment to anything else you may be doing...


A Brit Abroad: Let's start with perhaps the biggest news for British ice hockey as a whole. After being invited to the Chicago Blackhawks' prospect camp recently, Belfast d-man Dave Phillips, considered as one of British hockey's brightest home-grown talents, has been signed on a two-way between Rockford Icehogs (AHL) and the ECHL, with the potential to make the next step up now more than just a distant dream...much as I despised him when he played for Belfast, good on him.

Trouble is, Belfast are now left with a massive hole at the back, with Phillips being one of their top four defencemen and all the import slots now filled back there, either Graeme Walton will have to step up a level or there will need to be some readjustment in the Giants' season plan...

But then, at least they'll save on the wages: However, it could be questioned whether the Giants will sign a new player at all, with rumours from the Northern Irish capital pointing to light purses in the Giants camp and desperate measures, up to and including quietly "re-organising" their staff, being taken to make sure their (exciting-looking) roster will actually be seen on British ice. Obviously, we hear such rumours every single season, but this one will warrant watching closely...

The EPL doesn't know what's coming: Andre Payette, everyone's favourite pantomime villain, has been strongly linked with Manchester recently by sources in both Newcastle and Manchester-if he's allowed to play rather than expected to perform pantomime antics such as he was in a Vipers shirt, then he could dominate the EPL in the power-forward stakes...it will be extremely interesting to see if this one comes off.

As if the Skydome boards weren't rickety enough already...: they'll now have to contend with the impacts of bodies placed there by Jason Robinson-the ex-London Racer, Newcastle Viper and Sheffield Steeler, who isn't exactly shy when it comes to introducing opposition players to the plexi with extreme prejudice, is the Blaze's final import signing, returning from the IHL to provide the Skydome side with some muscle on the blue-and a more-than-useful enforcing element to his game also.

Meanwhile, up north...: Defence is the watchword, with Hull, Newcastle and Edinburgh all adding players new to the UK to their defensive strength recently. Ryan Jorde joins the Stingrays from the IHL, as well as Stephen Burns from the CHL, Jerramie Domish (something of a pocket battleship at 5'9 and 200lbs) heads to the Vipers from the AHL, and Michael Beynon, who has been linked with an unnamed EIHL club since the beginning of the summer, heads to the Capitals. The first three seem to be defencemen equally comfortable at either end of the ice, while Beynon is reported as someone more inclined to take care of business in his own end before charging forward-all three should be considerable improvements to their teams, with Domish in particular carrying an impressive pedigree with him...


However, perhaps the signing of the summer so far has occurred not for one of the big four teams but up in Edinburgh. Chris Allen joins after playing last year in Asia, but his stats suggest he could be the top d-man in the league next season...consider these facts:

Tied for second all-time scoring in the OHL for a defenceman-the other two players are ones you might have heard of...Bobby Orr and Al MacInnis.

A shot clocked at 103mph

13 goals and 25 assists in his last season in the ECHL, before moving over to Denmark

He's not exactly small either at 6'3 and 223lbs...and judging by this, should be popular off the ice as well. Particularly if he also brings his fellow "sexiest vegetarian" title holder with him...

Finally, in the land of steel, Sheffield have finally signed their replacement to Jody Lehman-it's ex-Bison goalie Kevin Reiter. Now, you'll forgive me if I'm not exactly conceding the league title to Sheffield yet, but Reiter struck me as something of a one-game-wonder last season. Yes, there's the whole "66 shots, 65 saves" malarkey (and as a Blaze fan who was present that day, that still stings a little), but one wonders if his exploits behind a Bison defence who were quite frankly bloody awful have placed his skills in a somewhat flattering light...there was a rumour he was Blaze-bound earlier in the summer and this worried me hugely, given that he hadn't looked hugely special in any of the other games I'd seen him play in. Nevertheless, he's still a decent goalie at this level, particularly with a better defence in front of him this time out. Whether he's a enough of a stand-out goalie to meet the expectations in Sheffield, though, particularly with the spectre of Jody Lehman lingering in the wistful minds of many a Steelers fan, remains to be seen.

And that's now you lot just about up to date...

And now, and in time for something completely different, for some music...

It's been a long time since the last IceTunes (several months, in fact) but with it now being midsummer, here's one or two songs, old and new, that the Breakaway recommends to help blast the summer by and sound as good now as thumping out of your rinks speakers in autumn...I suggest you turn the volume up to eleven before reading on...and click on the youtube links to hear them...

Florence and the Machine: "Kiss From a Fist": We start with something bang up-to-date. This is awesome...it's the kind of sleazy thing you can imagine fitting just as well in a sweaty club as when the gloves drop...it bounces along like one of those small balls you used to get from vending machines and lifts you almost as high while doing so. Their album Lungs is pretty special as a whole, but this is probably the stand-out track from it...

Explosions in the Sky: "First Breath After Coma": And, at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, you have this. People have compared them to an American Sigur Ros (more of which later), and like the Icelanders they have a gift of making music that doesn't so much represent a tune as a state of mind. This song is my favourite one of theirs-a simple way of describing it is "instrumental prog-rock", but that doesn't really do them justice. This is the kind of music that, when played, can make even the most mundane tasks seem epic. The Earth Is Not a Cold, Dead Place does tend to disappear somewhat up a cul-de-sac, and you probably need a perfect summer evening and lying staring at the sky in order to appreciate it properly, but this is music at its most raw emotionalness...

As for what relevance this has to sports or where it'd fit in in a hockey game...well, how about this for a pre-game build up?

Sigur Ros: "Hoppipolla": The title means "jumping in puddles" in Icelandic. Which makes it perfect for a walk in an English summer. If you prefer your music a bit faster, then maybe the Chicane dance remix (I'm shuddering typing that) is more your style. My advice-stick with the original, get quietly drunk in your back garden on a clear summer night with someone you care about, and lie next to each other staring at the stars. It helps the summer pass quicker...

Aiden: "Die Romantic": Yes, if it was any more emo it would only be found in the corner of your bedroom, crying over wilted flowers and writing poems about the sweet embrace of death despite being about fourteen*. But it's still a very good song indeed to just randomly fire out of your speakers and laugh at the overblown-ness of it, while at the same time secretly enjoying it.

*(note-I actually like this sort of thing...this is what is known as "irony." No offence is meant to anyone of such a disposition, whether real or put on for effect)

Nine Inch Nails: "Wish": Violent, chaotic and fast. Also a bit disturbing to those who don't understand the appeal of such entertainment. Just like hockey, in fact...

And finally, a link or two...: Goalies. They're a strange breed. And they like to write a fair bit when they're not stopping projectiles being fired at their head...Ken Dryden and Jack Falla in particular come to mind...
Becky over at Five Minute Major is one in a long line of literary puck-stoppers, and has produced this extremely enjoyable piece which seeks to work out just why all the best hockey literature is produced by those in masks...which, assuming I can marshal my thoughts, may see a response from the other end of the stick (almost literally, what with me preferring to attempt to score goals as a forward rather than stop them)...

Also tonight, The Cat's Whiskers' Jono Bullard is interviewed by a site I'm likely very remiss in not linking to before now-UK Hockey Live, offspring of the already successful View From the Bridge, in which he and Patrick from the podcast discuss the growing popularity of the UK hockey blogosphere, and he also says some very nice things about yours truly...it's an interesting listen...

And that, ladies and gents, is your lot for now...

Keep keeping your eye on the puck...

A Song of Ice and Fire

"I'd like to sing a song...a song of great social and political import. And it goes like this..."
Janis Joplin: "Mercedes Benz"

"On a lonely afternoon in June, I need you...just like raindrops"
Basement Jaxx: "Raindrops"

"Winter is coming"
George R. R. Martin, first words of the "A Song of Ice and Fire" series

I have a confession to make. I despise summer. And this is why.

Every year, without fail, the same thing keeps happening. The hotter it gets, the more I long for the sun to disappear again.

Halfway through the hottest day of the year last week, a day which saw the British workplace turned into an experience far beyond even Dante's wildest dreams of infernal torment, a day in which air-conditioners howled in pain as they were worked harder than they have been in many years, I left my desk for a few minutes and heard a very brief burst of this from a passing car as I sought a breath of air outside.

And much as I despise the song, its almost ubiquitous presence in British ice-rinks (most notably Nottingham and my own second home, the Skydome) meant that, as others sweated and complained about the heat, my soul went on one of its increasingly frequent journeys to a world where it is permanently early September, the leaves are just starting to fall from the trees and you can make the trip to hockey in golden sunshine one day and a dark, wet, rain-pattering evening the next.

This is a world when hope springs eternal, the winter stretches away in front of you and everything that's been so sorely missed during the seemingly endless weeks of speculation, rumour-mongering and desperate hunting around for information on new signings is back. The new signings are on the ice, your spot at the plexi is still open and you fit it like an old, familiar glove, and the boys of summer have finally given way. It's a bright, shining time lit by the muted glare of floodlights off pristine new ice and soundtracked by conversations picked up almost where they left off in April.

Trouble is, reality intrudes all too quickly, and we're back to an earth of traffic jams, heatwave alerts and overcrowded beer-gardens, sound-tracked by Eeeeebeeeefaaaa anthems, the sound of British failure at Wimbledon, rain-delayed cricket matches and really, really bad holiday dancefloor songs.

But surely I can't be the only one whose summer is occasionally interrupted by such dreams...it can be a fragment of song, a random video on youtube, or even the kind of memory when you're bored and daydreaming at work on a burning midsummer Wednesday...

The bite of the hockey bug is one that just keeps on itching...and you only need one bite to put the poison of being a closet summer-hater into your blood...

Come join me in the autumn of the soul...it's only 50 days or so until hockey season begins again...:)

There you are...after such philosophy, a bit of hard news will go down a storm, so in the next few days we'll have another round-up of the latest goings-on and player movements in the EIHL.

Until then, keep enjoying the summer...

Catch Up If You Can

"This town rips your bones from your back
It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap..."
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band: "Born To Run"

Yes, I know it's been two weeks or more since the last post...everyone's allowed something of a summer holiday...:)

For this one, let's just have a quick look at the signings taking place around the EIHL...there have been a few, but we're now well and truly into the doldrums of summer where hockey is at its farthest point from the light of consciousness...as you prepare to laze in front of diamond-shining seas and on soft white sands, it's hard to believe the first game of the new season is a mere 54 days away...although I'll freely admit that while my body is roasting in the unaccustomed heat of an English summer, the leaves are already falling off the trees in my soul and the nights are lengthening again as hockey returns to British shores...the British summer is heat, greenflies and no hockey, and thus is welcome to end itself as soon as possible as far as I'm concerned...

Belfast: Brandon Benedict and Tim Cook are the latest new additions to the roster in Northern Ireland, with the former being a chippy, slightly undersized but useful centre who appears to be from the same cloth as Bruce Richardson, and the latter being...well, not. Cook is a big defenceman who will presumably be expected to take care of business in his own end way before charging forward...both played for the same team in Denmark last season, so will have to help ease each other into a new locker room. The Giants are excited about their team this year, but it'll be interesting to see just how important these two end up being...

Cardiff: Not content with simply signing Mark Smith, the Devils have also gone and ensured the return of his partner-in-crime Max Birbraer for his second spell in South Wales, as well as completing their blue-line with the services of two-way d-man Scott Romfo from the ECHL. The Devils are quietly building a pretty damn scary roster down in South Wales this time around...

Coventry: Two signings which have caused much debate to report in Coventry since the last round-up...the return of the one of the prototypical EIHL pests in Danny Stewart, returning for his fourth season, and the capture of Derek Campbell from the Vipers. Now, some are underwhelmed by these two signings, but they please me...we've had the silk in the Blaze forward line already, and now we need the sandpaper to balance it. With Stewart and Campbell, who have crossed swords more than once already during their respective tenures in the league, on the same side other teams will really not look forward to facing the Blaze-particularly those with players of a slightly...well, fiery disposition. Campbell and Stewie are both players who can put up the points as well as the penalty-minutes, though, and should add some a surprising touch of speed and guile as well as their, shall we say, "own particular appeal"....

Edinburgh: It's still slow up north, although we have seen the return of possibly the ugliest man currently playing in British hockey...Kyle Horne is a fine British defenceman but...well, I would imagine that those puck-bunnies driven by looks over personality and skill don't exactly beat a path to his door during the season...

Hull: James Hutchison steps up from the EPL to join a promising-looking Stingrays side in their only signing since the last round up, as the Humbersiders continue their rebuilding under Sylvain Cloutier...after several good seasons with Peterborough, including winning every possible EPL trophy last season, it will be interesting to see how the Tynesider develops...

Newcastle: More new blood on Tyneside, although new signing Matej Kralj will be familiar to at least a small proportion of Blaze fans after facing Coventry with his former club, Maribor, last season. The bigger news is who isn't signing for the Vipers-with Kralj being the final import forward, Andre Payette and Jeff Hutchins will need to find a new club if they want to stay in the UK...

Nottingham: The Panthers' final import forward is CHLer Marty Gascon...perhaps not quite the "superstar" East Midlands fans were hoping for, but as a playmaker, he's clearly planned as a foil to the likes of Sean McAslan and Jade Galbraith at the NIC-14+54 in the CHL last season, with three teams, appears to bear the "playmaker" tag out. We'll see if he can step into the role filled with some aplomb by Dan Tessier last season...
Meanwhile, Matt Myers has made the trip across the pond, joining Bakersfield Condors of the ECHL...an interesting move both for him and the team. British ice hockey will be watching with great interest to see if he can emulate Colin Shields and Jon Weaver and hold down a regular ECHL spot...

Sheffield: The song remains the same in Steelerland, as the roster still has no new faces on it, with the Jody Lehman replacement still eagerly awaited in net. However, Ashley Tait will leave a big hole as he follows GB team-mates Greg Owen and David Clarke and tries his luck in Europe with Ritten Renon in Italy, after being signed by his former team-mate in Nottingham, Paul Adey.

It's still too close to call in the Elite League with rosters still to complete...but at least now, both you and the Breakaway are all up to date...

Picture Perfect...

Just because it's a slow Tuesday, a few EIHL-related pictures that are currently floating round the web...

Firstly, thanks to a mole within the Panthers dressing-room, we have breakfast-time at Jade Galbraith's...

Following that is a sign specially designed for Andre Payette...

...and another which I can't apply to anyone in the EIHL's morals, simply because I'd probably (and justifiably) be sued for libel, but may be proof that someone in the EIHL hierarchy moonlights by being a sign-placer in the off season...plus, the unfortunate juxtaposition amused me (the bottom bit is a "no parking" sign, apparently)

The EIHL have also released a pictorial representation in answer to the question "can we break the wage-cap?"

...and the NIC's new crowd-control policy may cause a problem or two...

as, in the interests of balance, will the planned escalators to make access easier at the Hallam Arena...

And finally in this journey of randomness, we have proof that Andre Payette's new contract may be heavily incentive-laden...

Keep keeping your eye on the puck...

Thought For The Day: The Hardest Part of Going, Is Coming Back...

"Home, now that I'm coming home

Will you be the same as when I saw you last?

Tell me how much time has passed..."

Funeral For A Friend: "Into Oblivion (Reunion)"

We're back in the UK, finally...and it's been a week or two. Given that there's been a fair bit happen in the world of the EIHL, we'll simply have a look team-by-team rather than signing-by-signing...

Belfast: The Giants roster has seen only one new addition in the past week or two after a spate of early-season signings, but in Pierre-Luc Faubert they not only have only the second double-barrelled first name to appear in the EIHL (Jean-Francois Perras being the other) but a very, very, VERY quick forward indeed, who can also put up a point or two, it seems...The Giants fans are already getting very excited about him having a better pedigree than Paul Deniset (who was fairly useful last season himself)...however, Dan Carlson has better ECHL stats then both of them, so the claims of "top forward in the league" may be a little premature...

Cardiff: The Devils have been a little quiet recently, after having most of their roster already re-signed as returnees early in the summer. However, despite losing Mike Prpich after the speedy centre and one of Devils' stars last year got himself into a bit of bother off-ice that saw him released they've covered the spectrum with their last three signings, with Ben Davies taking the "young Brit and potential star" mantle as a reward for his coming on in leaps and bounds last season and Phil Hill returning as a power forward. However, their third signing, announced today, is the one that really raises eyebrows-as Mark Smith returns from Italy for his second stint as a Devil. The immensely talented centre and one of my favourite opposition players of the EIHL scored 80 points in 06/07 as a Devil, and will be one of, if not the top centre in the league-the Devils have suddenly leapt from "maybe a trophy" to "one of the title hopefuls" in one fell swoop-that's how good the 5'10 native of Kelowna, BC is...

Coventry: The revolution continues apace at the Skydome. Leigh Jamieson is gone to MK Lightning (in the eyes of some, not a moment too soon), as well as another player who we'll consider below, but arrivals have been busier than departures thus far in the West Midlands. As well as the returning Matty Soderstrom, the Blaze have two new faces in the big American Brian Lee, a team-mate of fellow new signing Greg Owen at Briancon in France last year, and one of the unsung heroes of the EIHL in Luke Fulghum from Manchester. Lee is a big lad, who appears to have been brought in as a d-man who can go both ways with equal ability on the ice, although if you believe the rumours he's intended as more of a defensive d-man then a points-scorer...something of a Steve Munn, if you will. The Breakaway will be trying to get an interview with his team-mate Greg Owen next week, after the Peter Hirsch interview was well received, and so perhaps we'll be able to gain a few more ideas then.
Fulghum, meanwhile, is one of the signings of the summer. The plaudits went to Tony Hand and David Beauregard for Manchester's heroics last season, but the American winger who shared the ice with them (earning himself 34 goals in the process) was the one that made that line tick and could well be the perfect foil for Adam Calder and Dan Carlson on the Blaze's top line with his combination of speed and physical play. Certainly, those in Manchester have been fulsome in their praise of him...

Edinburgh, as usual, are hard to read because, as is traditional north of the border, signings are once again slower in coming than a tantric-sex-loving eunuch.
However, they have snapped up Ben O'Connor from Coventry, in a move which saw a very catty press-release from the Blaze about his manner of going...obviously I have very little idea of how frenzied the negotiations were or the exact circumstances, and I fully appreciate the need to stay within a budget and not throw money at those who aren't worth it...however, releasing a press release trashing him by basically saying "this player's a greedy young sod who held us to ransom, so we let him go" is a little over the top. After all, isn't what happens in the coach's office supposed to stay in the coach's office-would not something along the lines of "Ben and I couldn't agree terms, so we wish him the best of luck wherever he goes", like that released for Russ Cowley before he U-turned last season, have sufficed to give reasons?
Aside from that, any Blaze fan (or indeed any Caps fan) who thinks that the Scots are paying him more money may need a quick dose of reality juice...O'Connor will certainly take a more prominent role in Edinburgh than that he would have had in Coventry, but surely he can't be on what the EIHL would call "big money"...if he is, then clearly the credit crunch hasn't yet reached Scotland.

On the plus side, any players they do sign will be able to take on two AHL teams in the Toronto Marlies and Hamilton Bulldogs, who along with Belfast will be taking part in the special Ice Hockey Homecoming tournament in Edinburgh and Belfast for the Gardiner Cup in September-more info here...

Hull are making a wave or two of their own on Humberside, building themselves a solid-looking roster, although it's fair to say that recent signings have addressed the "work and grind" aspect of the team rather than the "score as many goals as possible" area, as you'd expect from a Sylvain Cloutier-coached side. Adam Knight, joining from New Mexico in the CHL provides the physical presence on D (his stats of 2 goals, 3 assists and 153 PiM's last season should give you a clue as to where his role lies), while Shaun Thompson and Lee Esders give some hard-working British presence up front.

Newcastle have once again signalled their "new direction" by signing the skilful Ryan Mahrle from the ECHL, as they look for a more mobile defence. Along with Mike Berry, the returning Todd Griffith, Jason Tejchma and a new import to be announced tomorrow, the North-East could be seeing a very different team to that they're used to on the ice next season...

Nottingham have been quiet recently, although that's to be expected when most of your squad has already joined. Mark Hartley makes the step up from Coventry ENL to be the Panthers back-up, which is an interesting move for both him and the Panthers...doubtless many will be praying Kevin St Pierre stays very healthy indeed...however, Jade Galbraith will once again be easing a Panthers shirt over his (not-inconsiderable) torso this season...

Sheffield, meanwhile, have contented themselves with simply re-signing some of the top players in the league, with top-scorer Joey Talbot the latest to return...great for Sheffield, not so much for opposition goalies.

And there you go-now, we're up to date on the EIHL...

Keep keeping your eye on the puck...

Game Seven: Seven Ways to Scream and Shout.

"You make me laugh, you make me cry
I don't know which side to buy...
But the 7th thing, I like the most about you
You make me love you"
Miley Cyrus: "Seven Things"

Yes, I just used a Miley Cyrus song to open a post about game seven...but what the hell. It sums up my feelings about hockey as a sport to perfection. Be warned, this may switch into and out of lyricism, Falla-esque writing, and be fairly video-heavy....they will be referred to, so watching them would be an advantage...

Let's just get this out of the way early, because it feels so damn pleasing to see it in print.

Pittsburgh Penguins. Stanley Cup Champions, 2009.

Now, on to the game itself. I tried to do a running diary for post afterward, but it descended into complete anarchy after about ten minutes, when there was a very real possibility, at least in my mind, that I wouldn't survive the game.

Pens v Red Wings-the beginning...

Little did we know, watching this way back at the end of May (and this video may just about surpass the HNIC intro for Game 7 of Pens-Caps back in the Conference semis), that the series would go to seven, and little did I know that it'd age me ten years. Especially with the Pens down 2-0 after the opening two games in Detroit.

Then came Game 3, which meant that once again, there was a little hope...at this point I'm thinking "well, there's no sweep, and even if the Wings win now, we've gone down fighting".

Game 4 came and went, and suddenly it was two-two.

Game 5 was horrific. At that point, I thought the Cup was headed back to Detroit, and the best the Pens could hope for was to take it to seven. The jokes from the Red Wings of "history repeating" echoed long and loud, and the prospect of seeing the Pens lose the Cup on my birthday was not a great one, either.

But then fate took a hand.

Superstition is a weird thing. Certain rituals become imbued with their own magic power, and fans buy into this primitive form of sports voodoo in much the same way as the players do. As Game Six began, Pens fans were looking for some sign, any sign, that the race for the Cup wasn't already in its final stretch. And CBC, inadvertently, provided it by using a song that is almost like a modern-day spell of its own...

Step forward, "In the Air Tonight"

This song, I'm convinced, is either cursed or blessed with some sort of mystic power. Used before a sporting event, it makes extraordinary things happen.

And once again, it worked its magic.

And so we go to Game Seven.

The first period saw me regressing back to the primal consolations of superstition (I refused to sit in the same seat as that I'd sat in for game five), fear (when Valteri Filppula had a shot cleared off the Pens line, I uttered a sound containing fear, pain and hope never likely to be heard on this earth again), and jealousy (somehow, every bounce in the Joe seemed to go Osgood's way, or at least that's how my haunted eyes saw it).

Then came the Mad Max Redemption, otherwise known as the second period. First Maxime Talbot banged home his own rebound after hard work behind the net for one-nothing. The Wings came back furiously...but this night, Marc-Andre Fleury's pads had been stitched together by the angels themselves...they were truly blessed in stopping shots that, at the other end, could (and should) have gone in. Ten minutes gone, and 30 minutes at least from the Stanley Cup, Talbot went away again down the left side and aimed. His stick rose, lined up and fired, and puck left blade on a trajectory so perfect that Chris Osgood will never be able to tell you anything about where the shot came from, or indeed where it went past him, becuase he simply didn't see it rocket into the top corner.

And so, period three. Twenty minutes to realise a dream for the players, twenty nerve-wracking minutes for those watching. The period itself seemed fairly run-of-the-mill, though...right up until Jonathan Ericsson wound up and pulled the trigger on a howitzer from the point that "Flower" in his turn never even saw...and it was two one with eight minutes to play.

Two minutes later, with the Wings pressing, we saw the hand of the hockey gods reach down and pass the Cup to Pittsburgh. Nicklas Kronwall wound up from the point for another blast, and put every single last ounce of his 189lbs of muscle into swinging his stick, which sent the puck away on a path that scientists will tell you was ordained by physics and gravity, but Pens fans will say was influenced by the breath of angels. It rises slightly more steeply-than planned on a stray air-current somewhere in the course of its otherwise-dead-straight 70-feet-long journey, which takes it an inch or so higher than it perhaps would have gone on any other night, This inch means that it thumps into Fleury's crossbar, rather than the twine...and Flower himself rubs the bar better when its work is done...

There was still time for one more moment of magic...the Wings pile forward with the clock ticking down from ten to zero, and the puck finds Nick Lidstrom's stick tenths of a second before the buzzer-he fires, and Fleury stops it.

Game over.

And four months of celebrations in Pittsburgh have begun...

Gordie Howe, Chris Chelios, Steve Yzerman, Henry Ford, Alice Cooper, Tom Selleck, Kid Rock, Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Madonna, Mitch Albom...

Your boys took a hell of a beating...

Now, hockey is officially over until August...so we'll come back to the UK and by Wednesday, I'll finally have a summary of events in the EIHL while we've been focused across the pond...

Agony and Ecstasy: Game Seven

"Don't wait, Don't wait
The lights will flash and fade away
The days will pass you by
Don't wait"
Dashboard Confessional: "Don't Wait".

Game. Seven. Two words, three syllables, eleven innocuous letters.

But, at the same time, one of the greatest phrases in all of sports.


Game Sevens are, truly, like nothing else. Every bounce could make twenty players' dreams come true, every shot could be one that echoes down through the ages, and every pass could be the last building block in a dream...

There are few other sporting events on the planet which inspire such emotions, and such extremes. Few which have produced so many iconic images, so many iconic sounds. And few whose rarity only adds to their value (there have only been eight game sevens in the Stanley Cup Final in forty years).

And now the Pens are in one.

Luckily, they have players who have "form", as the British cops say. People who've been there before. More of them than the Red Wings, because in all their wins, the Wings haven't been pushed to a game seven of the final.

Ruslan Fedotenko scored both goals, including the Cup winner, last time he was here with Tampa Bay, as well as giving inspiration for Gary Thorne to produce an awesome bit of commentary...

"..Score!...HE'S GOT ANOTHER ONE! FED-O-TEN-KOOOO!"

Search it on youtube..."Fedotenko game 7"...:)

Craig Adams has won the cup with Carolina in a game 7 too...so history is (just) on the Pens' side...

By this time tomorrow, new legends will be born, and many tears of joy or celebration will have been cried in either Detroit or Pittsburgh. But either way, tonight is a moment in hockey history that comes along all too rarely. Savour it. Whoever wins.

That said...

GO PENS, GO!

Reaction to come tomorrow, either way...and then we might get back to events in the UK hockey scene sometime on Sunday or Monday...:)

(Not) Enjoying the Silence

Yes, I know that with the Cup Finals I really haven't said anything about events/signings back in Britain...I'm putting together a summary of these which will hopefully be up in time for tomorrow. As will a musing on the appeal, by way of a preview, on the sports version of Beauty and the Beast, and possibly one of the greatest recurring occasions in world sport-the mix of joy, pain and blinding fear that is Game Seven of a Stanley Cup Final...

Check back tomorrow morning...and keep keeping your eye on the puck..

Game Six: If No-One Speaks Of Remarkable Things...

"Just one more breath, I beg you please
Just one more step, my knees are weak
My heart is sturdy but it needs you to survive"
Dashboard Confessional: "Reason to Believe"

Sweet Jesus Christ. I can't take any more. If you don't hear from me after Friday night for more than a day or two, whatever the result, then worry a little. There is at least a five percent chance the Pens have killed me.

I swore not to watch last night-mainly because I didn't want to ruin my birthday with a vision of the Wings once again lifting the cup, which, after Saturday's shower of faeces from the Pens, particularly in the second period, looked something of a formality. Then Jordan Staal scored, and hope returned. Then Tyler Kennedy made a play out of nothing, and just briefly, I and every other Pens fan began to hope that just maybe, there was a Game Seven in this thing after all.

Then Kris Draper (Kris....bloody...Draper!) scored to make it two-one, and suddenly the fear returned in all its vomit-inducing, dry-mouthed, weak-kneed fury. Shot after shot rained in on Fleury, and shot after shot got turned away. Even before the equaliser, Zetterberg tinged one off the post and for half-a-second I knew despair as I thought it had gone in, because I was as certain as of anything in my life that, if this game went to overtime, the cup was going to Detroit.

But still the Pens hung on. Until two minutes that, I swear by the hockey gods, came as close to causing my death from a heart attack as anything ever will, and nearly killed me on the same day as I'd been born twenty-five years before.

First came Pavel Datsyuk's gorgeous, made-in-hockey-heaven pass to Dan Cleary, which I couldn't help but admire even as I watched the big Newfoundlander attempt to destroy the dreams of the black-and-white half of Pennsylvania. In the second or two of his approach, I promised anything to the hockey deities, up to and including my firstborn, if Fleury stopped it. He did, and the thump of puck hitting left pad was like the hammer of the hockey gods crashing down. Surely that was it.

But no. The Wings kept coming, the clock in the corner of the screen moved like a sloth through treacle, and with twenty seconds to go, all hell broke loose.

With Fleury out of position and the puck sitting on the stick of Johan Franzen, my eyes widened in horror-this was it. The final, vital break through the Pens defence, and the spirit-crusher which would win the Wings the Cup in OT. As the Swede shot, my heart stopped...and didn't beat again for fifteen long, even eternal seconds, even as Rob Scuderi somehow got in the way with one of the greatest pieces of desperation defending you or I will ever see. It only started again at the final hooter.

God, I'm dreading game seven...

But even so, there is a fierce hope. We saw the hockey gods manifest themselves in all their cruel, heartless yet glorious beauty through Rob Scuderi last night. Next game, as is customary at this time of year, they'll pick someone else to do their work, and the Cup will be won.

For the sake of my bleeding and bruised soul, I hope it's a Penguin.

Let's go Pens...

Game Five: The Sound Of Silence

Ouch. It's been three days now, and I still haven't quite processed the sheer nightmarishly bad-ness of the Pens game 5 collapse, particularly in the second period.

However, it has been done, and there will be an epic post tomorrow morning ranging from NHL to EPL as we look at hockey happenings both in the UK and in the "big league", including game six...check back around midday...

Game Four: Power and the Glory

"I'll fight forever, I won't surrender,
And I will always...
Hunt...you...down!"
Saliva: "Hunt You Down"

Oh, hell, yeah.

One quick goal (from Geno Malkin, who else?) and a three-goal second period, with the third of those (Tyler Kennedy's) looking so beautiful that if it were possible, you'd make love to it until next July, and suddenly, with the Wings reeling on the ropes, we have a best of three.

Not only that, but the "best team in hockey" look shaky, especially on the penalty-kill-of the eight goals scored by the Pens in games 3 and 4, three of them, or nearly half, came on the powerplay. If you include Jordan Staal's shortie, the Wings special teams have been on the ice for half of the Pens goals in the past two games, and four of the ten Pens goals in the series have been scored with the man advantage.

By contrast, the Wings have scored only one powerplay goal in the series, despite getting ten themselves...

Special teams win games, and winning games wins championships. If you'd asked me after game two whether I thought the Pens could be returning to the Mellon on June 9th with a chance to lift the Stanley Cup, I'd have said "no way-they'll be trying to take it to a game 7 for sure". Now, I genuinely think a game 5 win is not only possible, but probable...Chris Osgood has been proven to be vulnerable, the vaunted hitting of the Red Wings defence (particularly Nicklas Kronwall) is failing spectacularly to intimidate (watch Malkin's goal from last night-the powerplay comes from a Kronwall hit that goes slightly wrong, on Geno himself...he hops up, stays on the ice and bangs home a rebound off the boards...a rebound which, by the way, makes up for the horrific Brad Stuart goal in game 1...

Oh yes, and there is the small matter of Sidney Crosby finally appearing to catch fire in the goalscoring department, too.

On Tuesday morning, the hope was just that the Pens could avoid falling into a deep hole. Now, as the series heads back to the Joe Louis, there's a real possibility that, far from just climbing out, they can go on and chuck the Wings into that same hole before they come back on Tuesday.

Watch out, Hockeytown. This summer, you have serious competition...

Game 3: Hope Reborn

"Raise a bright hope, that there is a brilliant tomorrow"
Small Towns Burn a Little Slower: "A Tune of Panic"

Ladies, gentlemen and Red Wings fans, we got ourselves a series again. And this despite Sid still being held to one point, and Geno not scoring this time round (although he did once again step forward as "the" Pens player of the series so far, assisting on three of the four goals). How's that "two players scoring on the team" schtick smell now?

It's all about Mad Max Talbot, be-yatch, scoring two goals-the opener and the dagger-to-the-heart empty netter. Although you wouldn't put him among the top offensive stars in the series, Max can finish when he needs to...


Or Chris Kunitz, throwing only two less hits by himself in the first two periods (10) than the entire Wings team (12)...by far the leader on a Pens team that out-hit their opponents by over three-to-one. Crash-and-bang playoff hockey at its best...


Or maybe Kris Letang and Sergei Gonchar, blasting home a pair of bullet slapshots after the Wings looked like they'd weathered the storm to go 2-1 up, thanks to the Swedish tandem of Zetterberg and Franzen deciding that they'd do their bit to reclaim the superstar mantle after being shown up a little in the scoring stakes by the AHL line.


Whisper this...but maybe the Wings have a weakness-three penalties taken, two powerplay goals conceded. If you're looking for the ideal way to lose a game, then taking a 2-1 lead and throwing it away by failing to kill penalties must be up there somewhere.


Darren Helm and Justin Abdelkader, where art thou? The Wings everyone have been talking about in this series appeared to be a little off their games for a change...pride comes before a fall, and all that...


Three goals on 20 shots, including two on seven in the first period alone? Not that Chris Osgood is cracking (he's far too much of a professional for that) but the aura of flawless invincibility he was slowly building over the first two games has, if not shattered (after all, this is just one game), at least now got a few blemishes on it. If the Pens out-duel him in game 4, suddenly the Wings will have to come to Pittsburgh at least once more...and with the ground-shaking noise produced by 17,000+ Pens fanatics plus the massive crowd outside, it is not a friendly place for anyone wearing the winged wheel, but Ozzie will be the one under the gun most of all...

Game Four is now the Pens' to lose. They can keep Sid and/or Geno away from Zetterberg and/or Lidstrom, Datsyuk ain't fit yet, and 17,216 roaring voices are a hell of a sixth man. But if they do lose, the Wings are not only in the driving seat but have the key in the ignition and the handbrake released in their drive towards victory. For so many reasons, the season for Sid and friends has now reached the point where losing with dignity and pride, as they did last time out, is simply not an option any more.

After the first two, many were saying that the Winged Wheel was rolling toward another Stanley Cup. After Game Three, the Penguins are preparing to march again.

Thursday is D-day.

We need a repeat of Tuesday night on Thursday, Kunitz to crash and bang like a demented destruction-derby racer again, Malkin to play like a demon playmaker again, and Sid to channel the spirit of Mario through himself to his team-mates, many of whom will need no telling of how important a win is. Nothing else will do.

All 82 regular season games and the 20 playoff games thus far are history now. Grounding the hated Flyers, storming the Capitals and blowing away the Hurricanes were great fun, great achievements and would be enough for many other teams. But not this Pens squad. Not now.

We know the Cup will be won, but we don't know who by. Thursday's game will have a massive say in deciding that question...

Let's go Pens...