March 2008 Archives

Now that Operation Cocktease has reached its inevitably disappointing denoumemnt, shut-ins everywhere will soon be deprived of shinny soaper MVP, unable to find it no matter how hard they twist their rabbit ears. Fear not, however, for a new edition of Hockey Babylon is now storming the airwaves. The Slugfest on the Saguenay had all the ink-stained wretches in a tizzy this week, and their analysis suffered for it.

The usually reliable James Mirtle completely missed the net with his effort, opining that it was only Roy's notoriety that led to such a large suspension:

Let's face it, this story wouldn't have made national news three days in a row if not for the names involved. Junior hockey's not often even on the radar here in Toronto, and certainly not the QMJHL, and the fact this is a story that's drawn so much attention really speaks to Roy's star power.

And that attention, in my opinion, also led to larger suspensions than we would have seen otherwise.

The Q must be so far off his radar that he missed this little incident:

On January 19, 2007, Saguenay Police investigated an incident involving Roy and co-owner of the Chicoutimi Sagueneens, Pierre Cardinal. There were reports that Roy threw punches at the co-owner after he intervened in order to disperse a crowd of hockey fans that were blocking the Remparts bus after a game between the two clubs. A complaint for assault had been filed against Roy who may face assault charges in the matter. MontrealLe Journal de Montreal reported that Roy later apologized to the victim by telephone. ^[15][16] newspaper

In a press conference following a Remparts game on January 21, 2007, Roy said that he was "suffering prejudice on the part of the media" and believed that he was not feeling guilty of the incident. He then questioned his future as head coach and co-owner of the team, even considering resigning from his duties.^[17]  (Wiki)

For someone renowned for his solid reporting, completely missing the precedent which contributed to this latest incident (and these aren't the only times Roy's embarrassed the league- remember his public baiting of a teenage goalie during the Memorial Cup finals) was a puzzler. Of course, maybe he was confused by the NHL's use of precedent, in which suspensions get longer if you have priors except if you are a star player on a Cup contender, in which case you get no suspension followed by a token few games after a public outcry.

Dean of Quebec Mittenstringers Red Fisher took it one further, going from headscratching to almost incomprehensible. The first two thirds of his piece read like a standard takedown, in which one incident is used as a pretext to bring up everything from his nasty history of domestic abuse to the time he lost it over Craig Billington getting credit for a win to the time he returned Weird Science two weeks late. Roy hasn't earned having his number retired, argues Red. It's a fair enough point, although I would quibble with his contention that being up in the rafters with the other 387 retired Habs is as much about being a paragon of virtue as production - Rocket Richard, sainted though he is, did knock out referees on more than one occasion, and McSorleyed Hal Laycoe; Doug Harvey for decades battled the alcoholism which would claim his life; Guy Lafleur was charged with perjury, and worse, released a disco album. To say that we honour our sports greats based on their character is as untrue in hockey as it is with Ty Cobb or Ray Lewis. Roy won two Cups for the Canadiens almost singlehandedly, a feat in its way as impressive as the achievements of his forerunners given the much greater size of the league. I think he should be up there, certainly if Serge Savard is, but that's not the weirdest part of Red's article.

No, it's the last third, in which Red pulls a gearshift worthy of Damien Cox and relates a heartwarming tale of Roy letting a stricken ten-year-old score goal after goal on him (maybe the Leafs have found a way to use Raycroft for good) - and then, nothing. No, "but that makes him being a jackhole even more unforgivable" or "so people are compicated, watch before you judge," just - nothing. What the hell?

And of course, someone had to do the "aren't Queebeckers the most, what with their Jos Louis, cheese curds and Gallic passions?" angle. Sean Gordon, Star Quebec Bureau Chief:

Last Saturday's brawl - during which Jonathan Roy punched out his unwilling counterpart Bobby Nadeau, fought a second player and then taunted the crowd with a middle-fingers homage - is also about more than hockey.

L'Affaire Roy fits in the broader Quebec narrative concerning the children of divorced parents, youth violence, petty rivalries, father-son relationships - hockey fisticuffs as morality play.

So maybe I was a little harsh, but that type of context-free analysis makes me wonder why Sean isn't a toy department regular. Divorce and youth violence are Quebec narratives? Check out a Toronto Sun or a Vancouver Province sometime. Hockey violence ALWAYS plays out as a morality play, from Ace Bailey to Richard Riot to Clarke on Kharlamov to Slap Shot to Bertuzzi - that's why people love it so much. And that's why this story is so huge. It would be just as huge if it was an OHL game involving Glimour or Domi's kids. Hockey, violence, handwringing - everything that leads. If you want analysis, on the other hand, check out this piece at Four Habs Fans (thanks PPP). Where Red confused, it just about convinced. If Roy is to be dishonoured, it should be to take a stand against rage and violence, not because he doesn't meet the imaginary sainthood of the ghosts in the rafters.  And how's that for a 180 of my own?

UPDATE: And as I post, Cherry is showing the Boogard-Cowan fight as an example of some sort of fine moral example. Fucking classic.

As argued before in this space, usually Don Cherry can at least be counted on for consistency. Consistently batshit maybe, but consistent.

So Saturday's edition of DRUNCLE YELLS AT NATION (w Ronnie Sycophant) was notable for a couple of reasons. First, Grapes actually crafted a semi-coherent argument. Seemingly responding to DC Talk's Friday salvo- that it's hypocritical to call for no touch icing and not mandate other safety measures like visor rules and the full removal of fighting - Grapes held that no touch icing was different.

Unlike fighting, wearing full visors, or burning up the blacktop in a NASCAR race, no one has a choice but to go into the glass hard to try and confirm the icing or beat it out. If they don't, they're called cowards and could lose their job. The other issues are personal choice (though try telling that to Bobby Nadeau). No-touch icing is different. Point made, Cherry moved on to his weekly citizen funded war propaganda. As he lamented the latest loss of a Canadian life, one thought crossed my mind: When exactly did Canada bring back conscription?

As you have no doubt heard, Bob Costas recently took online newspaper commenters to task, creating a great big shit-storm in the weblog community. If you ignore the fact that Bob is the 96,576 old-school media-type to characterize bloggers as "pathetic get-a-life loser[s]" who live in their mothers' basements, and doesn't seem to actually know what a blog is, his comments were pretty much accurate.

We have it pretty good in Toronto, as the Star and Globe both do a good job of moderating their comments, but down south, the comment sections can get real ugly real fast. I've seen some of the most horrible racist and homophobic crap spewed anonymously at foxsports.com, and it seems like every baseball article at espn.com quickly deteriorates into an argument between people named YANKEEHATER!1!!!1 and RedSUX69. (On the other hand, the comments on Kevin Hench's idiocy extravaganza from this past weekend show that these sounding boards can be used for good rather than evil).

So, Costas isn't a total dick, and he kinda apologized for insulting thousands of die-hard sports fans today, so why do I bring this up? Well, as Bill Cosby used to say, I told you that story, so I could tell you this story. You see, while Costas simply has a problem with one small subsection of the online world, our very own Rosie DiManno appears to have a beef with any print medium that isn't the traditional daily newspaper.* Get ready, because here are Rambling Rosie's wild and windblown thoughts on:

Email:

"Because no opinion can be allowed to go unshared and every email author is a quasi citizen-journalist - or citizen-editor - the unsolicited advice, inexpert analysis and shallow exposition is cacophonic.

It's touching that many readers have a proprietary relationship with their gazette of choice, but the scolding can get a bit much. And where one reader sees genius, another sees abomination, conspiracies and editorial agendas run rampant."

Those free newspapers you get on the subway:

"Don't want to see any newspaper die, or go completely online, or lose their precious share of the market to ubiquitous giveaways slapped together from wire copy and outright thievery, without substance or an original thought.

They don't dispatch reporters for a you-are-there keyhole view of world events or even the local ones because they are not, in the main, part of the fabric of their community. There is no interpretation, no context, no texture and - worst sin - no story-telling. They are newsprint spam."

(Wait. Slapped together from wire copy? Without substance? Newsprint spam? Is she talking about the Metro or the National Post?)

Blogs:

"At the other end of the spectrum are the online "content providers," blogs and "social media" networks that are all view, all comment, all personal whinge, graceless, and devoid of source reporting.

Surfers go to these fonts of blather not for illumination but for validation of their own beliefs and to group-bitch."

Pretty much sums-up our site. Good stuff, but it looks like we're going to have to wait for Rosie's opinion on telegrams and skywriting.

*Thanks to Bitter Leaf / Pike Malmateer for the tip-off on this one.

My sources are telling me that people out there are talking about Godd and I and it is being said that we're either naive homers or MLSE shills (while either living in our parents basements, or working at the Toronto Star, depending on who you listen to). In an attempt refute these rumours, I have taken it upon myself to write about something other than the Leafs today. 

Okay...lets see...what's out there...Leafs lose to Sabres...Antro hurt...Sundin back against the Isles...Sundin nixes Habs trade...oh, here's one. It's about basketball:

Just wondering, but should the Maple Leafs really be looking for a "Bryan Colangelo of hockey" now?

Well, mostly about basketball.

That was one of the stated goals, you may remember, when John Ferguson Jr. was cashiered Jan. 22nd, that the MLSE brass was so very much in love with the sainted Colangelo that all they needed to do was locate a hockey man of similar qualities and all would be well.

I swear, basketball...

Wondered about that at the time. Wondered why this halo surrounds the Raptor boss even though he has doesn't own an NBA championship ring and his team has yet to even win a playoff round in Toronto.

They've been to the playoffs once, and are headed there again this year. And, don't forget, this team was a total disaster two years ago. Also, there are four current NBA GMs who own a championship ring: Joe Dumars, Mitch Kupchak, Randy Pfund, and RC Buford. Jerry West and Greg Popovich are the only other GMs to win an NBA title in the last ten years. The Raptors, of course, are a bunch of fucking idiots for not hiring one of those guys. I mean, all they had to do was call, right?

The gentleman who wrote this, Damien Cox, usually writes about the local hockey squadron, but for some reason has decided to blog about Toronto's faltering-down-the-stretch roundballers today. Like his hockey-writing (and don't forget soccer), much of his venom is directed towards those bumbling clowns down at MLSE, which, even through my blue and white glasses, I can see is a worthy target. Those guys are idiots.

However, much like his hockey-writing (and don't forget soccer), Mr. Cox once again uses the wrong ammo to fire away at an easy target. Colangelo is pretty much the only thing the Peddiephiles and Tannenbaumites have done right in the last five years. And, supposedly, they didn't even figure this one out themselves, but rather had Colangelo foisted upon them by David Stern. But I digress...

Sure it's impressive what he did in Phoenix, and yes, the Raptors were a laughingstock before he arrived and became a solid team in the weak Eastern Conference in his very first year.

But to the no-ring past and playoff disappointment of last spring we can now add a Raptor squad that is plummeting, possibly all the way to the seventh seed in the east unless they can get this thing straightened out soon.

If someone had told me two years ago today that in 2008 the Raptors would be on a 2 and 8 run (and Bosh-less), yet still be guaranteed finishing no worse than 7th, I would have laughed in their stupid lying face.

At some point, one should think, this will begin to reflect upon Colangelo.

It does. I love Bryan Colangelo. He is awesome. Going to the playoffs for the second straight year. Cap-space in the summer. Bosh locked up for a few more years. Sure they are middle-of-the-pack and struggling right now, much like the shinny team, but unlike that bunch of stay-at-home momma's boys, the future actually looks bright for the Raptors.

And while we know MLSE always aims low when it comes to managers and expectations - and what they care about most is that the fans have started filling the building again in the Colangelo era - surely the club should really be looking for a hockey executive who can deliver more than their basketball man has so far, or, really, in his career.

You hear that, future Leafs GM? You've got 18 months to sort this shit out. Then the knives come out.

If it's a basketball reference they need, shouldn't they be hunting for the Gregg Popovich of hockey?

Who exactly would be the Coach Pop of hockey? Bowman would be the closest I guess. Thoughts?

By the way, if anyone is wondering how long it will take for Mr. Cox, who has long called for the Leafs to rebuild, to criticize the Leafs for rebuilding once they actually decide to do it, we seem to have an answer: Just less than two years.

Leafs. Leafs Leafs Leafs Leafs Leafs. I have a sickness.

We're still here! No, I don't know why either. The last week or so has been snoresville on the blog front, with the listlessness of the Death Train to Loserville making for pretty tame mittenstringing. Simmons isn't even working Sundays anymore, apparently; maybe he's just doing deep background (that's journalism lingo) on his forthcoming "Sundin has Ebola" summer exclusive. Shoalts pretty much nailed the season in all its sound-and-fury-signifying-ninth torpor. Wake me up in June.

Really, what else is there left to say about a season that has come all the way around to people clamouring for more Raycroft? Nothing fun outta the Jays camp either; perhaps JP's offseason injection of Keebler-elf clutchiness has inoculated him against Grimace until the real games start and their annual fight for third recommences in all its grim earnestness.

Although there were props given to Eliotte Friedman by Zelkovich this week, to which I say: no.

So, to tide you over until Cox tries out his math skills again, let's turn our attention to the draft, the day in which the Leafs will toss a piece of teenage meat to the baying masses, a promising kid who in no way will have far too much pressure and expectation placed upon him before he ever takes his first NHL shift or uploads his first nudie shot to Facebook. The popular buzz features pined-for names like Stamkos, Doughty, the physical Luke Schenn, while Kim and I carry a torch for hometown boy Zach Bogosian, who admittedly, sounds more like the bassist in some Upper West Side Pitchfork favourite than a guy who will anchor the blueline for a decade. But when Mr Jorn and I huddled over TSN's draft list, there's one guy who stood out, who just screamed "The Toronto Maple Leafs are pleased to select..."  First guess in the comments gets a purple Freezie. Or hell, feel free to talk about whatever. We've got so much ennui going here we're about to start smoking clove cigarettes and listening to the Cure.

And hey, whatever happened to Jacques Strap (and his post)?

I may be going against the grain here, but having recently acquired NHL '07 for the PS2, I take umbrage with the gaming consensus that it provides a less realistic hockey simulation than the 2K series. After popping it in, I made a few shrewd roster adjustments to the Leafs (hello Ovechkin, goodbye Raycroft), and started the dynasty mode. First up was a message from ownership stating that while the ultimate hope was to one day bring the Cup home to Toronto, the immediate goal was to make the second round of the playoffs, please and thank you. You don't get much realer than that. If only they had added some mo-cap of Richard Peddie typing that up. I would have felt like I was right in the offices of the ACC, trying to get James Patrick's agent on the line to talk stretch run comeback!

What a contrast to our second stop on the Cox Bloc Canadian Tour, Montreal. A place where expectations start at colossal, where the legends of the past routinely slag off the torchbearers of the present (Hi Guy!), at least when they're not actively dismantling the future (Allo Serge!). A place where Cups are expected as a matter of divine right, and Quebecois players who unfathomably shun the opportunity to be slowly fed feet-first into the hometown pressure cooker (WASSUP JOSE) to play somewhere else are booed as traitors.

The image of Montreal as perhaps the toughest town to play in is long past a cliche. However, very little actually filters out into the larger Canadian discussion about the actual dynamics of the market itself; hardly surprising in a country where the purported national newspaper doesn't publish in one of the nation's official languages. We have the picture of Montreal as a hockey broiler, fervent, gloried, and somehow "different," and that's about it. Aside from the occasional anecdote that leaks out, (like the time Breezeby bolted to Paris and the Journal put his address in the paper), we get very little detail about how it goes down in one of sport's most obsessive media climes.

To get a better picture, we welcome noted journo Marty Patriquin to give us some inside poop. He was going to be aided in the task by fellow ink-slinger/renowned Internet hair-splitter Craig Silverman, but as he put it, "I ain't giving no free writing to dirty Leafs fans." Dicks!  Thanks to Marty for his insight, and willingness to give back to a fanbase that has to take so much.

1. What are the dynamics of the sports media market in your town? Competitive? Brain-dead and chummy?

Uhh, all three. For the most part, and I'll defer to Craig on this because he probably knows more, the English side of things (the Gazette, that is) is chummier than the French. Part of the reason is Red Fisher, *the* Montreal sports writing antiquity who pens soft-lens features about the good old days. He is often non-sensical to the point of absurdity (I've spoken to guys who have had to edit him), but that's part of the charm I guess.

I find Hickey, the warhorse of the team, to be the best in terms of game summary and post-game interviews.

Boone is a tool. Straight up. He should stick to writing about food banks and Sunday Schools.

Todd is a slight more eloquent ass, though entertaining. Dunno his state since he took the CanWest buyout a while ago, though I think he'll keep writing freelance.

French side: Réjean Tremblay rules the roost. He's got the best contacts and the longest history of the bunch; plus, he writes for La Presse, which allows him to be pissy (and he is, often) while continuing to get great access. To be honest, I don't read the journal sports much, though I should. The journal is the one that dragged language politics into the whole Koivu thing -- he survived cancer, nearly had his eye removed from his skull, but can he speak French? Cue hysterics. (This was prompted by a buddy of mine who now works at La Presse. He was stirring the pot, and I'll admit the whole thing made for good reading.)

Now that I think of it, Guy Lafleur 'writes' (it's ghostwritten) a column that is actually pretty fierce at times. He's the one who came out and said Montreal doesn't have a first line; rather, it has four fourth lines. He also took the piss out of ryder on occasion.

If I had to generalize, I would say the French media is very similar to the average Habs fan: tremendously harsh, exceedingly so at times, but they loves them some bandwagons.
See 'bandwagon', above. On both the English and French side there is a sense of entitlement inherent; the habs are the habs, and when they don't act like it (eg miss playoffs, steal purses) things quickly become caustic. One day they call for Carbo's head; the next they are administering a wet, sloppy handjob. I sometimes wonder if this affects our middling at-home play, but I'm probably putting too much stock in my very noble profession.

A few good examples of bandwagonism: Yesterday, (ed - not yesterday) two days after the (admittedly drop-dead amazing) come from behind victory against NY, the Journal's front page headline was 'Ça sent la coupe!' (It Smells like the Cup). Franchement. Today, the Gazette listed the top prices for a stanley cup game at the bell centre -- the day after a loss against Pittsburgh. People also put those stupid flags on their cars waaay too early.
Hmm. Depends on the player. It's been funny to watch Kovalev come out in force ever since he stopped sucking, while Ryder has done the exact opposite. Access seems to have a lot to do with performance, which has meant a bit of a headache when it comes to interviewing goaltenders (example: One paper, I'm pretty sure it was the Gazette, profiled Price to the nines a few days before he was sent down to the minors.)
Not sure. Ask Craig. I know Todd was bitched about a fair bit.
I'd say Tremblay myself.
Boone. It's fucking embarrassing at times.
Neh.
Fans are, on the whole, are more knowledgeable than the average -- that's just my impression, though. The Bell Centre sells out every game. We have an irrational love for any French Canadian player (Hello The Tenderness) that can quickly turn to hate if they fuck up (What's up, Theodore.) It's why anyone French who is deemed a saviour is destined for eventual doom (Roy) and why some people think Lecavalier shouldn't come here. It's the rough equivalent of having a prime minister from Quebec -- you are loved until you are really, really hated.
Dunno. Less Boone, I guess.
Totally, completely and utterly.

I hope you guys bought a 6-49 ticket yesterday, or at least threw some money at the ponies. Friday we hit the Mittenstringer Trifecta, as Simmons, Berger, and 2008-2016 MOTY Damien Cox all produced intelligent, interesting pieces. All gave welcome insight into what may be the final paradox of the most bizarre Leafs campaign in recent memory - management and team pulling in two completely different directions, as one group plays for jobs and pride and a doomed run at the playoffs, while the other tries somehow to start the necessary rebuild. It's enough to make a man reach for the consolations of literature:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
Blake lacks all conviction, while the Tucker and Mats
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand; 
When a vast image out of the AHL
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That four decades of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a modest hot streak,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bay Street to be born?

I dunno Billy, but we're not getting him till 13th overall at this rate.
And "Moving its slow thighs" while shadows reel all around? Who knew Yeats's apocalyptic beast was none other than the Woz? Beware the Ides of March, or something.