Scramble In Front: Why Steelers Should Shut Up, & Braehead Responds

It’s tricky sometimes being a hockey blogger.

Wednesday’s blog post stirred up a bit of a debate in Braehead, with Clan fans particularly objecting (albeit in a very polite fashion) to my criticism of Steve Birnstill on the Clan defence.

This is where I respond and point out that, while Birnstill has unquestionably been the main offensive force on the Clan blueline (his 16 points may be half that of top D scorer in the league Mike Schutte but they’re 5th in (current) Clan scoring.

Trouble is, and in response to those Clan fans surprised I’ve called him “disappointing” along with the rest of the Clan defence: a defender’s job is to defend first, attack second. How many goals has Birnstill either caused or indirectly contributed to by finding a need to pinch up ice and then being caught out of position. If he’s been involved in 16 goals and been on the ice for 17, then surely he’s not doing his job to the appropriate standard?

I get to see the Clan on Sunday, so perhaps my opinion will change (and if it does, then I’ll mention so on Monday)…but until then, I’m reserving judgement about whether or not Birnstill can be exempt from the criticism of the rest of the Clan D, as some have said.

Sheffield Weasels. Now THAT has a ring to it…

The Sheffield PR machine is at it again. Barely a week after the owner Tony Smith called his own fans “scumbags” in the matchnight programme, Dave Simms is weighing in on Twitter with a bit more revisionist history, responding to an interview in which Tom Squires said the Steelers went for a full character assassination on him after he left them for Hull by desperately trying to justify himself.

Simms was quoted alleging that Squires had developed a bad attitude with the Steelers, saying that he believed he was a “superstar” because he was being told such by those around him and that he had got “too comfortable”, which is sports-journalist code for “he’s arrogant and lazy”.

Squires has of course denied this, praising the Sheffield Steeldogs organisation but noticeably avoiding doing so with the Steelers.

Now Simmsey has messaged Squires on Twitter saying that apparently this sniping was not character assassination, but “the truth” and that they’re happy where he is now anyway.

Or, to put it another way “we may have savaged you in the press, but it’s OK cause we thought it was the truth, so we can happily use it to affect your career out of spite afterwards”.

Nice defence, sir. Not sure an “opinion” can be held up as the truth, which usually deals with the things you twist, bend and break to your own liking we call “facts”.

 

Jekyll And Hyde Hockey: The Strange Case Of The 2012/13 Braehead Clan

In 1886, Scotland’s most famous author Robert Louis Stevenson wrote The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, a famous novel about an outwardly respectable individual who, for reasons of science and experimentation tries to make the best of himself, but suffers from a fatal flaw that he can’t resolve, and which ultimately destroys him.

In 2012/13, Scotland has its own hockey version of the beleaguered Dr. Jekyll in Glasgow’s Braehead Clan.

The Clan, as I wrote earlier this season, are doing absolutely everything right off the ice. Growing crowds, excellent fan relations and a genuine buzz make them a model for teams to follow. Their recruitment during the off-season caused great excitement as fans and pundits picked them as the class of the Gardiner Conference. Jordan Krestanovich could do no wrong.

On the ice, though, the Clan are struggling. A team that promised so much at the start of the season, a team that had the pundits all claiming it would roll over the rest of the Gardiner conference and challenge for the league title (yup, including me) and a team that caused one hell of a buzz around Glasgow.

Now, they’re sitting 3rd in their conference and sixth in the league, with the worst goals against average and save percentage in the league being boasted by Garrett Zemlak in net, and a defensive unit that appears about as effective at stopping attacks as a picket fence is at stopping a hurricane. Mitch Maunu is injury-prone, Steve Birnstill and Matt Hanson have been unimpressive at their own end despite scoring points at the other, and Kevin Phillips and Sam Zajac, while trying manfully, perhaps have struggled to reach the required level.

Scoring is one area the Clan don’t have a problem. Jade Galbraith and Ash Goldie are both in the league top 20 and seven of their forwards are in double figures in points already, which isn’t bad at all. However, being a forward for the Clan must feel like a Sisyphean task as any progress made upward is dragged back by the millstone of an underperforming D.

So, what’s Jordan Krestanovich’s solution?

Signing a power forward and another EIHL team’s castoff d-man, of course.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Jesse Schultz looks very useful on the forward line. Impressive stats of 252 AHL points and over a point a game in Italy and the CHL mean that he’ll add even more offensive punch to a team that’s very useful going forward as it is. But he’ll have to be defensively responsible too, especially as that’s an area that the Clan seem to lack-players like Galbraith, Goldie and Robert Farmer are great as long as the play is heading toward the opposition net but occasionally need a map to find their own end. Schultz can’t be the same.

And on defence, the Clan sign Martin Tuma-a player whose main impact on the EIHL this season so far appears to have been on the concession stands at the NIC and local hostelries. Derided as unfit and slow by the Nottingham fanbase on his signing, the Czech hasn’t done much to impress since then due to a combination of injuries and a slow start. Clan fans are pointing to the Panthers saying that he looked a “useful stay-at-home D man”…but the obvious question is “if he’s that useful, why did the Panthers release him so easily?”

The main problem with this Clan team on the ice is that, just like the doctor mentioned in the story at the beginning of this article, it’s hideously unbalanced and prone to shooting itself in the foot, letting its flaws overtake its very real positive qualities. That needs to change immediately, and it appears that, while Jordan Krestanovich is taking steps to do so, he’s focusing his energies in the wrong place-certainly there are probably one or two Clan Dmen thankful they still have a job right now.

If things continue the way they have been doing in Glasgow on ice, then for the Clan’s sake, maybe some of them need to be preparing to look elsewhere. Otherwise the great work done by Kirsty Longmuir and her team off the ice is in danger of being wasted by those on it.

 

Hometown Glory: Just Why Do People Care About This Blaze Team So Much?

A fan’s relationship with their team is a weird thing.

It goes through stages, just like love does. Firstly you have the “honeymoon” period, where you discover this awesome new thing that comes into your life and can do no wrong. This is the “buy every jersey and go to every game while blindly defending the team” stage.

Then, there’s the “committed relationship” stage. You realise that, sure, maybe this team has a flaw or two, and there might be others out there that look much more attractive at first glance, but this is your team, for better or worse. Your relationship might be frustrating, it might be destructive. They may even break your heart. But for whatever reason, you’re stuck together. 

Or maybe you’re not. Maybe you just drift apart, don’t care about them in the way you once did. Maybe they commit one dreadful act or loss so irreparable your heart says “I’m done”, no matter what they do to win you back. That’s the “breakup” stage.

A lot of Blaze fans over the past two seasons were drifting between the second and third. There was a danger in Coventry that if we continued to see the uninspired, lackadaisical hockey we were “treated” to in 2010/11 and 2011/12, coupled with the seeming indifference of the owners, there was a breakup on the horizon.

Most importantly, though, this wasn’t a “Coventry” team any more.

I have a theory that, in some small way, the most successful and well-loved sports teams end up being moulded and driven by the character of the places they play-a theory that can be applied to the Elite League. Nottingham, for example, is a city that looks modern, fresh and innovative, but has underlying problems of infighting, warring factions and maybe thinks it’s more important on the national stage than it is. Remind you of any EIHL teams nearby?

Sheffield. Another city that’s fairly large, on the surface looks like it could be a major player in UK sport (two big football teams, rugby, and the Steelers) but gets ridiculously excited about little things and always has a chip on its shoulder. Oh, yes, and prefers to focus on a petty internal sporting rivalry that no-one else cares about ahead of national success. Hmm…that sounds like a certain EIHL team…

Cardiff. Capital of Wales-a place that likes to present itself as the underdog, loves putting one over the English but is quick to assume that any measures made by government aren’t made with the best interests of them at heart and nobody takes them seriously even though they really should. Oh, and with national teams that promise much but can’t quite beat the true quality in their fields right now. Hm. Sound familiar, EIHL fans?

My argument is that the best-loved EIHL teams are those that fans can identify with. That for, whatever reason, somehow reflect their city’s identity.

My home town, and that of the Blaze, is an ugly place. Coventry is not a town that appears high on the list of places to visit. The people here are cynical, with a sharp and often cruel sense of humour. We’re used to having to scrap for any recognition, being in the large shadow of Birmingham 20 miles up the road. Jobs are hard to come by, so people in them work hard, and expect a return for their hard-earned money. They hold teams accountable, and expect their teams to do the same.

It’s a town and people that rose from the ashes to become important again through sheer bloody-mindedness after nearly being erased from existence by outside forces.

They complain about their city all the time, but to outsiders, they’ll defend its honour to the death, and expect their teams to show the same pride in where they come from and the town they represent.

This 2012/13 Blaze team, like the ones in Sheffield, Nottingham, Cardiff and elsewhere, can be said to reflect their town perfectly. It’s not the fanciest, prettiest team in the league. It’s not a team with an inflated idea of its own importance. It’s not a team that’ll go out and complain when things don’t go their way. It’s a team that’s proud to represent the city and people it does-a team that has the same quiet bloody-mindedness and penchant for achieving things against the odds that its town does. 

A team that nearly died, just like its home town, and has come back bigger, faster and stronger.

It’s a team built on and by the very scarred, hard-bitten soul of the place it plays in.

It feels like it’s part of us, like our city will forever be a part of who we are.

And that’s why, this season, Coventry loves the Blaze again.

It’s risen from the ashes, tight-knit, hostile to outsiders, and more-bloody minded than a herd of mules, just like the city and its people.

And we wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

Things We Learned This Weekend: Rivalries, Referees and Redemption.

Happy Monday, y’all.

Time to run through the events of the weekend and, at the same time not get fired:

The Biggest Hockey Love-In In Europe

Once upon a time, about eleven years ago, two British hockey teams had a match in February. This match contained a bench-clearing brawl that became quite popular on Youtube.

Granted, everyone loves a scrap or two, but this isn’t anything particularly special in the annals of bench clearing brawls.

The trouble is, since then we’ve never been allowed to forget this scrap, mainly because every time Sheffield and Nottingham have met we’re informed it’s “The BIGGEST RIVALRY IN UK HOCKEY” or “THE MOST INTENSE IN EUROPE!” by either Dave Simms or the Panthers PR team.

Living aside the fact that the laughable “most intense rivalry in Europe” claim clearly shows none of the Panthers or Steelers PR team have been to the Rheinderby (Cologne v Dusseldorf), the Helsinki or Stockholm derbies in Scandinavia or the Prague Derby between Slavia and Sparta (to name but four hockey rivalries that make Steelers-Panthers look like a candlelit dinner for lovers), it appears even the teams themselves can’t really be bothered to care any more.

This is a rivalry in which the two teams play golf together for charity. A rivalry in which the teams cordially arrange to start backups in a meeting between each other for “fairness”, because the game is a Challenge Cup game and “doesn’t mean anything” (somehow, they still got 6,000 gullible fans through the doors with their “RIVALRY!” schtick).

It’s not even a proper rivalry any more-certainly not the biggest in British hockey. One bench clearance twelve years ago is the basis for a sham rivalry created purely to continue selling tickets-a rivalry that even Sheffield and Nottingham fans themselves struggle to generate any heat in, never mind anyone else.

Rivals don’t play golf together. Rivals don’t cordially agree to start their backups because a game between them “means nothing”.

You want a British hockey rivalry with real hate in it? One that’s the product of genuine heat and antipathy?

Try Edinburgh v Fife (pure local hatred honed and reformed over at least 30 years). Or Coventry v Cardiff (built on two similar teams with similar fanbases who have had some truly epic battles) Or even Coventry v Nottingham. (pure, raw, non-PR driven hate).

They’re rivalries. The Steelers/Nottingham sham is merely a lover’s tiff and a distant memory that’s being clung to by two teams and fanbases who can’t admit that, after all, their own “big rivalry” has now become just another game.

Trouble Is Black And White

Referees.

They’re a strange breed. After all, they have to be willing to take abuse night after night, and are usually ranked just above Dave Simms and below Brad Voth in most UK hockey fans’ estimations.

But, lordy, some of them in the UK don’t make it easy for themselves.

Andy Carson is under attack by both Blaze and Nottingham fans again today after he threatened to let Sunday’s Blaze/Panthers game get out of control, allowing a dubious Nottingham equaliser two weeks after handing out misconducts like confetti in the Blaze v Giants Firework Night Frenzy. Suffice to say that as a result he’s not the most popular person in Coventry right now.

Interestingly, Tom Darnell seems to be a little more popular on his return to Cardiff after the Blaze v Devils brawl a few weeks ago, though. In fact, contrary to their reviews of him after that game Devils fans seem to like him a bit more this time. It can’t possibly be due to the fact that, this time, the Devils won the game he was reffing.

Can it?

Maybe The Mayans Were Right

Paul Bissonnette.

NHL agitator. Twitter celebrity. Never scored more than 42 points in a season (for Wheeling in the ECHL). Generally seen as a wind-up merchant and muscle rather than a sniper/pointscoring forward. 

Now 5+8 in 5 games for Cardiff.

On pace for a hundred point season in the EIHL.

I don’t know about you, but if this continues, I’d get the canned food ready and prepare to head for the basement on December 21st, just in case.

Scramble In Front: Alphabets, Breakups and Controversy

Yes, Chasing Dragons is back. Thanks to having to find a job AND a house for me and my fiancée, who’s moving over from Belfast in the New Year (oh, and the horrendous incompetence of BT, who make Corey Neilson’s off-season recruitment look like it has a logical and well-defined strategy) I’ve not been on the Internet much the past few days. But it’s OK, cause nothing happened in the Elite League, right?

Well, nothing if you don’t count Team Great Britain making it through to the final round of Olympic qualifiers, a game that tested my abilities to make hockey interesting to the absolute limit and a minor cataclysm in Braehead. Let’s make sense of the chaos, shall we?

RULE BRITANNIA! Well, until they face the big guns in February, anyway:

Team GB have managed to fight their way through to the last hurdle between them and the 2014 Winter Olympics, after winning their pre-qualifying group in Japan this week.

Naturally, this has caused great excitement amongst the GB fanbase, with lots of talk of how great the achievement is, how the GB programme is bearing fruit once again and how it’s not long before team GB will be playing with the big guns if they keep up the current improvement…

Whoa, Britain. Hold ya horses a little.

Without wishing to denigrate the achievements of the GB team (after all, this is the closest the GB hockey team have got to the Olympics since they won the whole shebang in…um…1936)-the work starts now.

In the pre-qualification group the Lions beat Japan, Korea and Romania. Now, these are all decent nations, but what everyone is missing in their “underdog comes through” rhetoric is this:

GB were the highest-ranked in their group.

That’s right. They’re, in the definition of the IIHF, the best team in that qualifying group-one place ahead of Japan and six and seven ahead of Korea and Romania.

Now they go on to face Latvia, France, and Kazakhstan in Riga in February. THIS is a real test-Latvia are 11th in the world, France are 14th and Kazakhstan 17th.

More to the point, they all have international federations who have actually seen the international team as something worth committing more than a paltry budget to over the past few seasons.

We’ll see if IHUK actually bother to send media this time, what with it being the biggest competition Team GB have been involved in since they played in Pool A of the World Championships in the early 90s. If they need a PBP guy, fairly sure I could make some time in my schedule for February. I even have a working knowledge of Latvian. SARAUJ GB!

In Braehead, The Alphabet Has 25 Letters…

because they’ve never heard of “D”.

Now you’ve stopped groaning, we can make a serious point. What in the name of sweet holy puck is going on at the Braehead Arena? Off the ice (as I wrote earlier this season) they’re going from strength to strength. On it, they’re struggling mightily, being tanked 8-4 by Edinburgh this weekend. Definitely not the form of a team many (including me) expected to dominate the Gardiner Conference this season. A team with the likes of Drew Miller, Garrett Zemlak and Jade Galbraith should be winning a lot more games then they are.

They’ve already made one change, bringing in Davided Nicoletti on defence…and yet the goals continue to come. So naturally, Jordan Krestanovich’s move is to chop Ryan Campbell (no points this season, which is a bit horrendous for an import, and embarrassing for me as I picked him as the Clan’s unsung hero in my preseason preview) and also Bobby Chaumont, who despite his 18 points was adjudged expendable.

Relationship Issues:

Chaumont’s release leads me nicely onto another point, too…the relationship between players and fans. It seems fractious up in Glasgow nowadays, with Chaumont having a barely-veiled dig at the Clan faithful yesterday, tweeting “you got your wish, Glasgow” barely days after Ryan Watt appeared to embrace the traditions in Gorgie, Scotstounhill or Govan by challenging a fan who criticised him to a scrap. Well, not in so many words, but “I could have you easily” probably isn’t a chat-up line, put it that way.

With the EIHL social media policy proving to be about as effective as a eunuch’s dangly bits at doing its job so far (sure, Devin DiDiomete and several other players have been fined for tweets but if a system has repeat offenders twice in a week there’s probably not much respect for it) and now the line between fans and players seeming to get ever more fractious this season (we had the Cardiff incident, this and also a bottle being thrown at a Trafford player at an NIHL game in Coventry this weekend)-maybe it’s time for everyone to calm down a little?

No Spleen Left Unvented

Finally, shamelessly nicking from the Banners On The Wall blog, I’m inviting you, dear readers, to send in your questions, mailbag style, for me to answer in a future post (probably this Friday). Ask it about hockey in general, the EIHL, its personalities, or what I think about the no-touch icing rule.  No question too big, too small or too controversion. As long as it’s not going to get me sued for libel, I’ll probably answer. 

To get your question in, tweet @fourthlinewing your question with the hashtag #askchasingdragons or email askchasingdragons@gmail.com, and we’ll hopefully have some fun talking hockey. You’ve got until Friday.

Happy quizzing, and see you tomorrow, Internet permitting…

The Times They Are A Changing: UK Hockey’s Silent Revolution

A shorter version of this article also appears in the November edition of the Coventry Blaze magazine “On Fire”, available at the Skydome. Well worth a purchase if you visit Coventry:

It may seem easy being a sports pundit. Simply watch as many games as you can, make sure you know about the sport you’re watching and try not to say anything too stupid, and watch the money roll in. As long as you know what you’re talking about and come out with bland sports cliches left right and centre, you’ve a job for life.

 This is a formula that’s been replicated by ex-footballers since time immemorial. In British hockey, though, the “expert” market is a little narrower…in that there just isn’t one. 

 Or at least until recently, there wasn’t.

 If you wanted “expert” comment on UK hockey in the post-Grandstand era of the late 90s/Superleague, at least punditry-wise you listened to Dave Simms up in Sheffield. That was it. It didn’t matter whether you agreed or (as many did) disagreed with his opinion–he had all the access, knew all the coaches, and perhaps most importantly spoke the loudest. If the media needed a quote on British hockey, they turned to him.

 Over the past few seasons, though, challengers have begun to pop up to Simmsey’s throne, as the world of UK hockey blogging has got bigger and more polished, and clubs have begun to produce their own webcasts, letting new voices come to the fore. Simmsey may still be acknowledged by most to be top of the pundit pile, but his days are increasingly numbered as UK fans discover new voices to get their opinion fix from. 

 Amongst some of these new(er) expert voices worth keeping an eye on are Craig Anderson of the excellent Slapshot Scotland, Katy Parles of UKAmerican Sports Fans, Jono Bullard of Nottingham’s “The Cat’s Whiskers” fanzine and Anthony Russell of Basingstoke’s “Banners On The Wall” blog. Coventry fan Craig Summerton (@craig_s96) and Fife’s Laura Duff (@hockey_laura) have also gained large Twitter fame with their intelligent and well-informed updates on the EIHL and their clubs.

 Because of this, increasingly fans are turning away from Simmsey’s blustering or the carefully-managed club press-releases, or the infighting and flame wars characteristic of forums, and looking for more intelligent comment.

 In fact, purely by reading this you’re contributing to the UK hockey media revolution. As clubs become more aware of what good PR and writers can do, more and more fans are stepping forward and letting their creative talents show-as evidenced by the superb work done by all the contributors I’ve mentioned.

All it needs is for fans to hunt them out. Hull Stingrays’ F Block Blog. Belfast’s A View From The Bridge. Coventry’s Sky Blue Hockey. Braehead’s Clanoroma. All over the EIHL fans are letting their fingers do the talking with knowledge, comment and argument that’s blowing that available in the “mainstream” media or from more “established” reporters into the shade.  

This is a trend UK hockey needs to embrace, and more to the point pass on to any interested media partners. 

Some clubs (such as Belfast and Nottingham) are incredibly supportive, while others, based on my own experience, are far more wary. The Blaze are making tentative steps with their excellent “On Fire” magazine, produced and edited entirely by fans, but still seem unsure of the true power of the Internet, as do many other teams. 

Belfast’s Doug Christiansen, however, appears to be far more aware of the power of fan media, with he and the Giants actively promoting A View From The Bridge wherever possible.

However, the recent closing of Fife Flyers’ forum shows that some are still not entirely sure (or indeed aware) of the benefits opening the door to bloggers can give. Certainly not to the level in other leagues-for example Slovan Bratislava of the KHL actively promote fan blogs, giving their writers free tickets in return for coverage.

Whether the UK hockey hierarchy realise it or not, the days of UK hockey journalism being a small, closed shop that may have existed in the past are over. There is a thriving group of nationwide UK fans who know the game well, are careful with their considered opinions and could easily do a job covering the sport, who have built up a following amongst their peers. It’s up to the clubs to find the right way to harness this talent and use it.

The next step is for these talented voices to be given a chance on the national stage, alongside the sterling work of those like Simms and Chris Ellis in Nottingham. I’m not saying that the current journalists should be replaced by the new breed, but it can’t hurt to have them supported.

The wind of change is blowing through the world of UK hockey media-it’s up to the league and their clubs to use it.

Knowing UK hockey, that may take a little while.

In the meantime, I’ve given you the names of those spearheading this silent revolution. Get out there, hockey fans. Read the blogs. Seek out a new view of the sport unfettered by press releases, petty rivalries or the same old tired hype we find in club PRs everywhere.

In short, there’s a whole world of UK hockey coverage out there waiting to be discovered. Next time you’re on-line, get out there and read it.

You’ll be glad you did.

Scramble In Front: Ref Hits and Hissy Fits

Yes, the title’s a little bit uninspired, but I was trying to think of another way of summing up the kind of post where we just tumble around trying to pick up the scraps of hockey news and make a worthwhile post out of them, and naturally thought of one of those mélées in front of the net so beloved of hockey, where the most important thing is somewhere under a pile of bodies and everyone’s trying a different way to get to it.

So anyway, away we go with a look at some of the news around the EIHL this week.

For Some, EVERYTHING Comes Down To Black And White: 

Refereeing. It’s a thankless job at the best of times, but in the Elite League, you’d better either have the skin of a rhino or be a closet masochist to want to take the job up. Already this season, Tom Darnell’s been in the firing line on Sky Sports and now Andy Carson is the one being criticised for what was something of a horror show on Sunday. Granted, Carson’s struggles led to a truly incredible game playing out between Coventry and Belfast but both Blaze fans and in particular Coventry sniper Brad Leeb were very vocal indeed about his performance, Leeb posting a vicious (but very funny) dig at the official on Twitter followed by this:

EIHL ref Andy Carson is the worst official I have encountered in my professional hockey career. #ForTheRecord

As of now, four days later, the tweet is still up. Think there could be a fine coming.

However, since Devin DiDiomete has also earned himself a fine through blogging on the Devils site and being viciously critical of Messrs Darnell and Hicks. It seems that the EIHL players aren’t shy of expressing their opinions, social media policy or not.

Cry Me A River (Severn)

Another group of individuals who aren’t bothered about expressing their opinions in public are Cardiff Devils fans. In the past two-weeks the various Devils fan forums have seen everything from conspiracy theories to threats of boycotts to outright vitriol as South Wales unites in an orgy of self-pity, ranting and opprobrium. Tin foil hats must be considered a current fashion accessory in the Valleys as talk of EIHL conspiracies, secret owner cartels with agendas against anything in red and referee bias has flooded the Inferno, reaching its peak in a frankly ludicrous thread on the Inferno which contained threats of boycotts and all sorts.

However, there is the excellent sight of the Devils clubbing together to pay DiDiomete’s social media fines, which is either a great demonstration of fan loyalty or something that completely negates the point of the punishment in the first place depending on your view of things.

In fairness, I have perhaps overstated the scale of things-many Devils fans have raised legitimate concerns about the officiating and disciplinary process which are shared by other teams in the league, but they have been let down by the lunatic fringe who have (and still do) see everything that goes wrong as some sort of conspiracy against their team. There are fans like this all over the country but there seem to be a particularly large number of them at the Big Blue Tent right now, and it’s not helping the sane and rational ones get their points across very well.

Of course, I could tell the Devils fans who’re convinced of a conspiracy the real reason for the problems Devils are having-about how Neil Black is actually a giant lizard king from the planet Tersysyadzgax who has a pathological aversion to the colour red and intends to ruthlessly punish all who wear i…hold on, there’s a black helicopter with the EIHL logo on it hovering outside my window….

Saucer Of Milk, Table Two 

Phew, avoided it. That was close. Anyway…where was I? Oh yes. Hissy fits. Just like Cardiff, Sheffield are no strangers to spitting their dummies from the pram, and today is a fine example of that, with pacifiers being parabolised all over South Yorkshire at the news former Steeler Tom Squires has joined Hull.

Clearly unaware of the “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything” rule, Dave Simms and his tame attack dog Bob Westerdale have delivered a thinly-disguised hatchet job on the young forward in today’s Star.

The thrust of the article is that Squires was getting a little too big for his boots in Sheffield last season, after “being told he was a superstar by some people”. The Steelers PR man is further quoted as saying that the club had done everything possible for Squires, even arranging gym membership, apparently, with the plan that he’d play in Telford under Tom Watkins.

Unfortunately, it seems that Squires didn’t fancy a drop back to the EPL under Sheffield’s terms and elected to make the move himself, signing for the Sheffield Steeldogs instead.

The best bit of the whole article is the barely-hidden dig at how Squires’ slow start to the season is a direct result of not following the Steelers’ advice, who were of course only doing the best for one of GBs brightest prospects in continuing his development by trying to stash him back out of the way in the EPL rather than offer a full-time contract despite Squires’ 34 points for them over two seasons…not bad for a 10th forward.

Squires himself has reacted in a far more classy fashion, eloquently and politely pointing out on Twitter that “no-one called him a superstar” and that “there were many reasons why (he) didn’t take the two-way contract, both professional and personal”.

Or, to read it another way: “Get off your high horse, Steelers. And stop making insinuations, too”.

The PR game in British hockey is often a bitchy one, but with today’s Star article Sheffield have shown themselves willing to sink lower than most, even making accusations about a young Brit when his decision isn’t the one they wanted.

Which is why I’m hoping Squires sticks those accusations of attitude problems right back down certain people in Sheffield’s throat when he goes back there this season.

There you go-the puck’s frozen, the whistle’s blown and that’s the end of Scramble In Front for today. There may be a delay in posts for a day or two because my home Internet’s currently knackered, but I’ll do my best to keep updating. See y’all in a bit.

Reflections on Hockey Heaven Part II: Sunday

This is the second part of Chasing Dragon’s look back at the Firework Weekend Frenzy between the Coventry Blaze and Belfast Giants last weekend. For part I, featuring Saturday’s game, click here.

And yet as angels in some brighter dreams
   Call to the soul, when man doth sleep:
So some strange thoughtsranscend our wonted themes
   And into glory peep.”
Henry Vaughan

It’s three days since the greatest hockey game the Skydome has ever seen. The earth is spinning on through space, and has moved roughly 6 million miles away from where it was on Sunday. On this wonderful little spinning lump of water and rock in the black vastness of space, roughly a million people have been born and 500,000 have died. The US has chosen a man to lead it for the next four years.

The world has changed immeasurably.

And yet in the Skydome the ice-pad sits, eternal, white, glowing and unchanged. The only thing that’s missing are the players.

But in the dark, after the lights have gone out, an invisible crowd roars again as a spectral Benn Olson takes on Adam Keefe, as a wraith taking Dustin Cameron’s shape puts a supernatural puck past Stephen Murphy, and a demon composed of pure anger takes Brad Leeb’s shape and re-enacts his all-consuming madness and rage at an impassive Andy Carson.

Great games never end. They just replay themselves night after night in darkened arenas, as the pure elemental force of 2000 souls and 22 players giving their all emerges  where it’s burned a memory into the unfeeling brick, stone and metal of the building it’s played in-a thousand spectral players jostling for space as they all fight and re-fight their battles night after night, unseeing of the others.

On Sunday night, this year’s Blaze and Giants team left their mark on the Skydome forever.

This blog, we’ll conjure the spirits up and let them dance across the screen as we look back on three hours that will live in the minds of everyone who was there forever, minute by minute. 

Let’s let the ghosts play.

 PART I: Rumours Of War (1st period, 0:00 to 10:30)

After Saturday’s game, the pre-game talk had been simple-could the two teams do it again? Would they have anything left?

The atmosphere in Sunday’s pre-game is different. While Saturday had been all about anticipation, Sunday is a heady mix of hope and fear. It can be boiled down to three statements:

Hope we can come out and do the same again tonight (Blaze fans, staff and players)

Hope we come out hard and get revenge for last night’s loss (Giants fans, staff and players)

Dear god, I hope this game isn’t a letdown after last night (everyone).

Giants captain Adam Keefe has a point to prove. His team had thrown away a two-goal lead the night before and he knows he has to lead them with pride, panache and most importantly show them the way. In his mind he knows what he is going to do. You can see it in his furtive glances across the red-line in the warmup, in the way he stares unflinchingly at one opposition player during the anthems, and in the set of his shoulders as he lines up opposite that same target in the opening faceoff.

Adam Keefe has a fight to win. By any means possible

He and Benn Olson stare at each other over the opening faceoff. Olson asks the strangely polite question that’s a prelude to war:

Wanna go?”

Keefe doesn’t respond. He’s already decided the answer, and as the puck drops, so do his gloves. Olson is surprised but responds, and the savagely beautiful ballet of the hockey fight begins. Keefe feels his helmet being ripped off by the bigger man, but is unfazed-the punches are coming in but they’re not landing as the two men embrace like lovers, snarling into each others faces and both wrestling for position. The rest of the rink is forgotten as Blaze and Giant continue dancing to the soundtrack of two thousand voices screaming for blood, and then, just like that, they tumble.

Challenge given.

1:22 in, Sam Roberts holds a Blaze player up as he goes past, and Andy Carson makes his first appearance by calling an interference penalty. Blaze have a faceoff to Stephen Murphy’s right, one that’s won by Greg Leeb back to Shea Guthrie. Guthrie drifts across the zone and throws a wrist-shot on net which gets the lightest, deftest of touches from Matt Beleskey to direct it by Murphy. Beleskey has his first home goal, and the Blaze are 1-0 up.

 Challenge accepted.

Four minutes later, Shea Guthrie accepts a pass from Mike Schutte on the left boards and takes three strides towards the net along the goal line. Schutte has crossed his path and yells for a pass, which Guthrie deftly caresses to him from a foot or two away. Schutte waits, and then his stick blade flicks like the head of a striking cobra to direct the puck high up over Murphy’s shoulder.

Two-nothing Blaze. All the traffic is going one way and the Giants are reeling.

Something major needs to happen, and it does. Ross Venus swings his stick and is called for slashing on seven minutes, and the Giants PP has its first chance to go to work.

They do, crafting a goal so beautiful that, were it a woman, even Aphrodite herself would be jealous. Greg Stewart forces the puck out of the corner to Rob Sandrock at the blueline, who instinctively knows Jeff Mason is to his left and passes across to the American. Mason looks up at the kaleidoscope of blue, white, teal and red in front of him and picks out Noah Clarke waiting unmarked at the back post. His pass is played with the precision of a bullet being loaded into a rifle, and all Clarke has to do is pull the trigger at the right moment. He does. Crash, bang, wallop. And the lead is down to one at 7:34.

Moments later, Daryl Lloyd decides to escalate hostilities a little, first getting involved in a scuffle with Mike Schutte and then shoulder-barging Beleskey on the way off the ice. This ratchets up the tension just a little. The air is heavy with promise of a cataclysm in the Skydome, forewarning of the thunderstorm about to break.

At 10:18, Daymen Rycroft spins away from a Steven Chalmers check behind the goal, picks up a poke-check from Andrew Fournier, and heads behind the goal before making his feet dance across the icy belly of the Skydome, pirouetting and flicking a shot into the net at Hirsch’s near post. At 10:22, just like that, the game is level.

Ten seconds later, Brad Leeb is slashed by Greg Stewart. He goes down, and the following conversation takes place between him and referee Andy Carson.

“Are you OK, blue?”

“Are you not calling that slash?! The guy fuckin’ two-handed me! (pause as play continues): That’s FUCKING EMBARRASSING!”

Carson decides that Leeb must pay for this, and gives a ten-minute misconduct which sends the Blaze forward into a paroxysm of rage-he has to be held back by a linesman and is thrown out after continuing his tirade.

And the first link in the coming chain of mayhem is forged.

Part II: “On My Signal, Unleash Hell” (1st period, 10:39-20:00)

Twelve minutes in, Sam Roberts and Benn Olson have a difference of opinion which leads to an exchange of cross-checks in the face and Davey Phillips making a prat of himself as he decides the best way of getting involved is to come barrelling in and fall like a ninepin being hit by a truck as he tries to hit the Blaze enforcer. It’s only a minor hint of what is to come minutes later.

14 minutes in, and Andrew Fournier has scored for the Giants to give them the lead moments earlier. As the Blaze try to respond, the threatened storm hanging over the Skydome breaks. It starts fairly innocuously with Rob Sandrock and Benn Olson exchanging words over by the penalty boxes after Sandrock leads with a high stick into a hit. Olson is ready to fight but Sandrock wants no part of him-although he continues to engage in the war of words. As the Skydome watches this argument, the real war is elsewhere.

Steven Chalmers and Greg Stewart are exchanging punches over by the Blaze goal. Well, to say “exchanging” is a misnomer because that implies a transaction involving two people. What is actually happening is Stewart is unloading punches like shotgun blasts on the back of the head of the young Scot, who is down on the ice trying to protect himself.

Blaze netminder Peter Hirsch is now faced with a split-second decision. On the one hand, if he leaves the net to be involved then there’s a chance of him being thrown from the game. If he doesn’t, and watches a team-mate get savaged, then he will stay in the game but may not be able to live with either his guilt or the disgust of his team-mates. He waits what seems to him like an eternity for the nearby linesman to step in as players scream anger from the bench. Mike Egener is already heading for the scene, but Hirsch decides that he’s had enough and goes to Chalmers’ aid.

Meanwhile, Brock Matheson and Gerome Giudice are wrestling almost un-noticed over on the other side of the ice. Their scrap is a sideshow to the main bout, which now includes the 6’4 210lb ball of rage that is Mike Egener, who has arrived and extracts a heavy price for Chalmers’ suffering, paid in Greg Stewart’s blood.

As the dust begins to settle, the officials debate for what seems like forever. Blaze are incandescent with rage-they want Stewart gone. The Giants, meanwhile, argue that under the rules, there must be several Blaze players thrown out. Egener has already followed Brad Leeb into the gaping maw of emptiness that is the Blaze tunnel. Eventually, Hirsch is told he must leave too-news which he does not take well as he tries to chop iron with wood and smashes his goalie stick.

The dust settles, and the period is played out with all attention being focused on 17-year old Adam Goss, who is makin his first appearance now Hirsch has gone. The Giants fire shots at him as they search for a weakness, but whether through the arrogance of youth or carried on a wave of adrenaline, the teenager makes the saves that are required, and the crowd begin to rally round him. The period ends an hour after it started, and those watching can’t quite believe the mayhem they’ve just seen.

 Part III: Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night (2nd period: 20:00-40:00)

The second period begins with the Blaze facing a mountain to climb. They’ve lost their starting goalie, two of their key players and are a goal down. They manage to last three minutes of concerted Giants pressure, but then Steven Chalmers has an attempted clearance blocked by Rycroft, who taps a pass to an onrushing Daryl Lloyd. Moments later, the puck is in the net and the Giants lead by two once again.

Two minutes later, Adam Keefe and Benn Olson decide that it’s time to renew hostilities. Their battle has been bubbling along all game and this time it boils over as the two drop the gloves in the Belfast zone. In contrast to their earlier bout, which saw them attack each other and cling with the desperation of star-crossed lovers sharing their last embrace, this one sees them circle warily for nearly half a minute before coming together in a vicious and brutally short whirling of fists and limbs that ends with Olson on top of his opponent and raining punches down as the linesmen break them up.

Olson is tossed from the game, but his example seems to inspire his team-mates. Shea Guthrie and Dustin Cameron in particular seem to find a new level of play, and are rewarded moments later as a hard Guthrie pass across the crease is smashed home by Cameron-who then hits the boards almost as hard with his fists as he did the puck with his stick.

Like tyrants of old, though, the Giants react immediately and smash this rebellion from the Blaze with a show of overwhelming force. First Matt Towe drives home a rebound and then Davey Phillips sends a message to his old team with a circling of the net and a finish into the top corner, although his celebration suggests a goal far better than one we’d actually saw.

Cameron and Guthrie come forward again, though, as the Blaze charge forward like a pack of marauding zombies-by all rights they should be dead and buried but are surviving on pure naked hate and anger. Guthrie lays off a beautiful one-handed pass and Cameron finds the smallest of gaps from the tightest of angles to bring his team back within two-it’s 6-4.

Then comes Noah Clarke. The big American has been a little quiet since his goal way back in the mists of time at the start of the game, but he doesn’t much weave a little magic as go full Gandalf on the Blaze’s ass when the puck is played across to him in space towards the end of the period, his stick flicking back and forth in a hypnotising dance before depositing the puck in Adam Goss’ net. It’s 7-4 at the end of the second.

Part IV: The Fifth Stage Of Grief (3rd period, 40:00-59:00)

The third period is a little subdued compared to the other two. The Giants are in full “see the game out” mode and the Blaze…well, the Blaze are truly dead on their feet. There’s a brief spark of life when Greg Leeb forces home a rebound two minutes into the period, but the game is fizzling out, fading away like the last gasping breath of an athlete whose race is run. The Blaze fight on, but the Giants absorb their attacks as a gentle mood of acceptance begins to creep through the stands, if not the home bench. The team have fought well, against Fate and a very good Giants team, but some battles aren’t just meant to be won, and this is one of them. Davey Phillip’s last goal on 57 minutes is greeted with an almost embarrassed cheer by the Giants faithful, and an acceptance of the inevitable.

But there is still, one more sublime moment in this game to come

Part VI: Salute To The Heroes

As the clock tickes over to the last minute, a solitary voice rises from somewhere in the Blaze crowd. It’s an order, a statement of defiance. But it’s also a plaintive call-to-arms.

 “Stand up….if you love the Blaze…”

Slowly, the word spreads, and the clapping accompanying the chant grows louder. One by one, the people in the Skydome take up the call, and the men, women and children in the stands seem to rise as one.

Behind Adam Goss’s goal, the knotted group of Giants fans, too, are singing, only they replace the chant with a simple yell of “Gi-ANTS!”

The insistent thump-thump-thump of hands meeting each other gets louder and louder as the exhausted Blaze and Giants players go through the final minute of 123 they’ve played this weekend. It’s a sound of acclamation for two great teams who have given their all, from Blaze and Giant alike, as every single person in the arena salutes the gladiators who have fought, bled and risked life and limb for their entertainment.

But more than that, it’s a salute to hockey. To the players who’ve made this weekend so incredible. To Benn Olson and Adam Keefe’s fighting, to Brad Leeb’s fury, to Noah Clarke’s artistry and Adam Goss’s youthful lack of fear.

As the final hooter goes, the roar of the crowd rises, saluting whichever squad they support and at the same time sending a prayer of thanks to the hockey gods seated high in their heavenly rink (a rink I imagine to be a combination of the Montreal Forum, Maple Leaf Gardens, the old Boston Garden and Detroit’s Olympia). It is a thank you for a wonderful weekend, for the sport that unites us, and for the fact that for the past two days the Skydome has been allowed to glimpse a world that sports fans rarely get to see-that one where sport goes far beyond merely a passion or a hobby and becomes an art, a living, breathing memory that will live in the minds of all who met it forever.

 Life will go on, and there will be other hockey games. Some may even surpass the incredible drama of this weekend. But the 3rd/4th November 2012 will always have special relevance for those who were there. In those long nights where the neutral-zone trap is dominating and a goal seems far away, or teams are struggling and imports looking uninterested, the memory of this weekend will remain, and remind us that sometimes, hockey can take us far away from the bounds of earth and into some higher place.

“So God bless you for all the songs you sang”

The Deftones: Minerva

Requiem For A Dream: Reflections On Two Days In Hockey Heaven, Part I

They are all gone into the world of light!
And I alone sit ling’ring here;
Their very memory is fair and bright,
And my sad thoughts doth clear.

Henry Vaughan, 1621-1695

Today is a perfect autumn Monday morning in Coventry. The sun is shining in muted autumn fashion over the city, bathing it in a warm, golden glow. It’s as if the gods themselves are quietly smiling on the place.
In the Skydome, the ice sits pristine and empty, the horseshoe of 2000 seats around it unoccupied by anyone as the darkened arena sleeps. The roars of two crowds roaring their champions on in battle, swishing sounds of metal on frozen water and crack and thump of Kevlar stick on rubber puck have faded away for another week.
If you listen very closely, you can hear the building sigh contentedly as it turns over in its sleep.

Last Saturday and Sunday, for six glorious hours containing two games, twenty-two goals, and a lifetime’s worth of drama, this building played host to one of the greatest weekends of hockey the Elite League has ever seen. A weekend that promised much and had been anticipated for weeks, but delivered a spectacle that will live long in the memory of anyone who saw it or took part in it. A weekend which showed the sport of hockey in all its brutal, passionate, heartstopping glory. A weekend in which the Skydome Arena and everyone in it was torn away from the bounds of earth and held in the hands of the hockey gods.
A weekend for the ages.

Words can barely do justice in relaying the spectacle of the Coventry Blaze v Belfast Giants double-header weekend we’ve just witnessed. But here, as we look back, they will try to capture the reasons why the Firework Weekend Frenzy was arguably the greatest single weekend of the EIHL era.

Chapter I: The Calm Before The Storm (Saturday, 6pm-7:30pm)
Everyone walking into the Dome this cold and crisp Saturday could feel it. With the hard-charging Blaze meeting the run-and-gun masters of Belfast, the two games this weekend had the potential to be barn burners. There were battles all over the ice to titillate the senses. Whether it was the prospect of seeing the blue-line artistry of Mike Schutte and Rob Sandrock go head-to-head on the same ice for the first time, the battle for supremacy up front with the offensive wizardry of Shea Guthrie and the Leeb brothers vs the raw power of Greg Stewart and Noah Clarke, or the prospect of an exhibition of the more bellicose talents of Adam Keefe and Benn Olson, the weekend promised something for every hockey fan.
The atmosphere in the rink was charged. It fizzed and crackled like a Catherine wheel of anticipation. As the teams hit the ice, hockey fans from Ballymena to Birmingham (and, watching via the webcast, Vancouver to Sydney) settled in to enjoy the show.

For the first period of the seven that we’d eventually see, though, there was no hint of the heights this weekend would reach. Sure, it was an intriguing, fast-paced and tight-checking game, but there were few moments that would really stand out. A nice tip from Clarke of a Jeff Mason shot and a few near-misses from the Blaze attack gave enough excitement to keep us happy, but in hindsight, it seems the hockey deities were busy elsewhere-perhaps in Braehead helping Paul Bissonnette score his first goal on UK soil a mere 72 seconds into his debut. As the first ended goalless, there was the promise of more to come. But nobody in the arena could have dreamed how much more.

Chapter II: Sparks of Life(Saturday, 7:45-8:20pm)
This second period saw another ten minutes of tight, hard-checking hockey, but as the anticipation of the first goal rose in the Blaze crowd, the Giants threatened. Finally, an attempted clearance ricocheted off Craig Peacock’s forechecking leg-he pulled the puck down, curled and laid a pass off to Stewart, who made to drag the puck left-to-right before switching a drag into a sublime blind drop pass to his partner in mayhem Noah Clarke. Bang. First blood Giants, 30:52 gone.
The Blaze shook their collective heads from that blow and came back. Dustin Cameron fought his way past Will Colbert onto the edge of Murphy’s crease and tipped a pass from Guthrie into the net to set the Skydome smouldering, but then came Andrew Fournier following up his own speculative effort, accepting a juicy rebound from Peter Hirsch and clinically dispatching it with the efficiency of a surgeon wielding a scalpel.
If Fournier’s first was his alone, his second showed why assists get the same number of points as goals. Daymen Rycroft seized a loose puck on the left and he and Fournier broke in on Hirsch with only one Blaze D between them. With Fournier going to the back door with the eagerness of a hedgehog to a bowl of milk Rycroft didn’t so much pass as think the puck up and over the blocking Blaze stick and onto his linemate’s with a saucer pass that was a thing of rare beauty.
The period ended with the Giants in the ascendancy and the coals of hope burning low for some Blaze fans. There was heat in the building but the glow of the Blaze was a little weak-the game was in danger of tailing off like the dying whine of a falling rocket. Someone needed to pour fuel on the fire to keep this game from burning out.

Chapter III: Catching Fire (Saturday, 8:35-9:10pm
Brad Leeb has dealt with a lot this year. Visa troubles for his family, controversy over sucker punches, and threats of violence from South Yorkshire. He’s kept his own counsel on such things, quietly doing a professional job night after night and coming seemingly from nowhere to score crucial goal after crucial goal-a habit that’s earned him the nickname of The Silent Assassin. With the Blaze 3-1 down, Leeb girded his loins, loaded his Easton Stealth weapon and went to slay the Giants. The deftest of touches on a Mike Schutte shot saw the puck nestle snugly in the bottom corner of Muphy’s net 78 seconds into the third, and the “most dangerous lead in hockey” looked under threat for the Giants. As smoke wafted across the moon from a thousand bonfires outside, the Skydome stopped smouldering and the barn began to burn. Mike Schutte himself then poured petrol on the flames as he drifted in from the point and jammed the puck past Murphy to level.
Moments later, the Skydome held its breath as Greg Leeb wheeled away from a check, had Murphy down and out, shot for the smallest of gaps…and hit iron rather than mesh. On such moments do hockey empires rise and fall.
Five minutes later, Rob Sandrock, who hadn’t put a foot wrong up until now, did. A stick between Benn Olson’s legs, one sharp yank and away he went to the box of shame despite his protest.
The Silent Assassin made him pay. Guthrie won yet another faceoff back to Leeb by the left point, and he took one stride and a gentle unmolested glide to the slot, and fired a pinpoint shot into the top corner.
Moments later it was Schutte’s turn to go to the box. Jeff Mason had been dangerous all night. The umpteenth feed from behind the net saw him swing a shot and the puck skitter away across the ice before hitting Peter Hirsch and going in. Four each.
Eight minutes later the time was winding down and Blaze had their backs to the wall. Peter Hirsch had quietly been strong in net but this was the time he earned his money. With the Giants circling the zone like dogs holding a bear at bay, Rob Sandrock and Jeff Mason coiled and fired again and again, but Hirsch used his torso, his glove and even the tip of his skate to deny them. As time wound down there was one last twist, as Sandrock was slow getting to an icing, leaving one second on the clock-a second that Doug Christiansen insisted on playing. The hooter went, the Skydome took a collective breath, and prepared for the last act in this mesmerising Saturday night slugfest.

Chapter IV: The Skydome Sees Forever (Saturday, 9:15-9:20pm)
Overtime. The most exciting time in hockey-a time of sudden death and sudden life, where heroes are made, villains born and dreams destroyed and realised.
As the Skydome prepares itself for the last act in the night’s drama, the air itself heats up one more time. The hockey gods wait, watching impassively as the players scuttle back and forth for 2 minutes and 33 seconds of play and fans hope desperately that the puck will bounce their way. Then it happens-the moment that ends part one of this enthralling doubleheader. The moment 2000 people see into eternity.
2 minutes and 35 seconds into OT, Greg Leeb twists away from yet another check along the boards, and makes his way through a check to the net.
Two minutes and 36 seconds into OT Stephen Murphy tenses his muscles and drops into the butterfly on his right hand post. Brad Leeb is on his way behind the net.
Two minutes and 37 seconds into OT, Greg Leeb gets the puck on his stick and shoots. It hits Murphy, but the momentum of the shot causes it to keep travelling, finding the narrowest of gaps to slip through his legs. It’s heading for the net, but slowly. Too slowly. It stops, and the hockey gods flip a coin into the air. Heads the game ends, tails it doesn’t.
Two minutes and 38 seconds into OT. The puck sits on the line, half in, half out. Stationary. Stephen Murphy has no idea where the puck is. Greg Leeb is blocked by the goalie’s body and a Giants d man.
The Skydome holds its breath. The Blaze fans behind the net are trying to suck the puck over the line. Brad Leeb is the only person in the rink who knows where the puck is, and is throwing himself around the net to get a stick onto it. The game is a millimetre from ending, but it hasn’t, yet. This moment only lasts a half second, but to everyone watching both on the ice and off, time stops dead as the hockey gods’ coin tumbles in the heavens.
Two minutes and 39 seconds into OT. Brad Leeb’s stick makes contact with the puck and puts it over the line. The Skydome screams with primal joy, as does Leeb himself.

And we are halfway through this epic tale. It couldn’t get better still, could it?

Oh yes it can.

to be continued…

Bigmouth Strikes the EIHL: Why Paul Bissonnette Is The EIHL’s Most Important Signing Ever

I need to start this blog with a mea culpa.

A month or so ago I wrote a blog arguing that Braehead’s Drew Miller was possibly a more important signing to the EIHL than Theo Fleury was for Belfast seven years ago.

I argued that, at least in terms of the impact he might have on both the Clan’s prospects AND their chances of winning the title, he was bigger than Theo was for Belfast.

As it happens, Miller has not had the effect on the ice that the Clan might have hoped, at least not just yet. He may be scoring at a point a game (2+4 in 5 games) but as yet the immediate impact that I thought would happened…hasn’t. In fact, none of the NHLers this time round has really impressed/stood out. Matt Beleskey has settled in well in Coventry but not lit the world up. Anthony Stewart has received criticism for looking lazy and uninterested, and Miller hasn’t driven Braehead to new heights. Or, realistically, had the marketing impact one might hope. So now I’m going to exercise a blogger’s prerogative and change my mind. And make a statement that’s sure to spark debate.

In signing Paul Bissonnette, Cardiff have made the best signing for UK hockey ever. Better than Stewart, Belak, Miller, and yup, Fleury.

At this point, I can feel the lynch mob forming. Coventry and Belfast fans will be foaming at the mouth at a fourthliner who’s played 135 NHL games being given higher status than a Stanley Cup winner/Olympic gold medallist (Fleury) & a player who’s a legend in Coventry and part of arguably the best side the Elite League ever saw (Belak).

Sure, Fleury had the high profile and the playing ability. Belak had the ability to make a fanbase fall in love with him.

But Bissonnette has the immediate star power and interest among fans all over the world that is at least the equal of Fleury-and the charisma that will make him the most talked-about player in UK hockey this season and possibly ever.

The 27-year-old from Welland, Ontario may not be the equal of Fleury either in achievement or stats, but in terms of media profile, he’s there. “BizNasty” has his own clothing line and is known as one of the most vocal and interesting hockey players around.

You want profile? BizNasty has nearly six times the amount of Twitter followers the “higher profile” Fleury has (over 340,000 to Fleury’s 57,000). He’s got a name recognisable to anyone who follows hockey in North America.

More to the point, he’s got the kind of wit and personality that makes Devin DiDiomete look like a wallflower, but without the sheer obnoxiousness and love for controversy.

In short, he’s a 24-carat gold, platinum-plated marketing man’s dream.

More to the point, he’s just what the Devils need. Let’s face it, while friend Devin is more than willing to do his thing, he’s a bit of a joke around the league when it comes to his discipline on ice.

Bissonnette is hard as nails, and more to the point he knows how and when to use it in the best way possible. In EIHL terms he’s the very definition of the perfect agitator/power forward.

In short, he’s the player the Devils have been crying out for ever since Brad Voth left.

But more than that, he’s the player British hockey has been SCREAMING for throughout the EIHL era-a charismatic, vocal PR man’s dream of a player who will get British hockey noticed both in the UK and North America in a way even Theo Fleury never could.

One of the most visible, well-known and marketable players in the world is coming to South Wales. The Elite League doesn’t know what’s about to hit it.

The hockey gods have given the Cardiff Devils and more importantly the Elite League the kind of opportunity to increase media awareness both here and abroad that even the Fleury signing would struggle to match.

They need to take it.