Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Open question to Bruins fans
Is Boston's goaltending good enough to make a Cup run this year? TSN has the Bruins ranked second overall heading into the season.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Don't let the door hit you on the way out...
So Long, Brisebois. Yeah yeah, I know--I'm heartless. In all the articles I read, like this one, people praise him for trying, really really hard. Mostly because there's little else that's praiseworthy. But he TRIED hard.
One of my favorite books/short stories is Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut (complete text here). In it, we see a dystopic future where everyone is dumbed down to the lowest common denominator. Those with athletic ability are encumbered by weights. Those with exceptional minds have implants that disrupt their thoughts. All in the effort to make sure everyone feels good about themselves, and no one is better than anyone else. All that matters now is how hard people try, without any consideration of the actual results.
And that's what pisses me off about Brisebois and his apologists: he TRIED hard.
So what? He sucked.
A virtue we Americans think is unique to us is that we value effort over ability. Work hard, get ahead. But in no area is it more obvious than professional sports that we also value exceptional talent. As Crash Davis put it, when folks like Nuke Laloosh were born, the Gods reached down and turned their arms into thunderbolts. You don't pitch in yankee stadium or Fenway Park unless you were blessed with talent that ordinary people can only dream about. Yet we don't deplore that; we rush out and buy replicas of their uniforms. (I suspect that one reason for this is the mystical belief that clothing ourselves in the same garments of our heroes somehow brings us closer to possessing their exceptional powers.)
Of course, the athletes dearest to us are the ones who are both talented AND hard-working. The 1980 US Olympic hockey team would never have beaten the Russians without an exceptional degree of talent, and could not have done so without an equal measure of hard work. As much as we like to pretend they were your average, hard-working, next-door-neighbor blue-collar Americans, those boys were not ordinary humans. Though not as gifted as the Russians they played, they still were a bunch of Division-1 stars, many of whom were on their way to the NHL. But what makes them truly outstanding is their combination of ability and truly exceptional effort.
Another heart-warming story that comes to mind is "Rudy," where a kid without size or natural ability manages to earn his way onto the playing field for Notre Dame for two plays. But that's the problem with Brisebois: he was just like Rudy, but got to play ALL THE TIME.
Youth sports teach us many things. One of them is the ability (hopefully) to recognize and accept our own limitations. True, we may rise above those limitations for one glorious second, one play, or even an entire game, but sooner or later we still have to find a way to accept ourselves for what we are, warts and all. That's what maturity is. I know I have an accurate wrister and can skate pretty fast. But I also know I will never be able to make a brilliant pass or see the ice like Wayne Gretzky could. And really, that wrist shot is probably not as good as I'd like to think it is.
So what example does Patrice Brisebois set? The answer is: It doesn't matter how much you suck. We'll let you play because you try REALLY hard. And even though this is a results-oriented business, fuck it, go on out there and give it your best shot. And you get to keep a roster spot and wear the sweater of the most storied franchise in the NHL. The fans, who live day-to-day with their own regrets and petty victories and defeats, who want to escape for an hour and a half into the NHL's marvelous display of ability, where they can fantasize about being part of that dream-world and hopefully, just maybe, become a living breathing part of a championship team, instead get to watch the idiots who keep playing Brisebois tear that dream-world apart. They get to see their beloved team lose because of a bone-headed pass or yet another coughed-up puck. They get to add that bitter disappointment to the real-life disappointments they experience every day. We can forgive the Ryan O'Byrnes or Steve Smiths who make that occasional, really stupid play like putting the puck into their own net, because we know they'll do better next time. We can get behind that, cause we've all been there in our personal lives. What we can't abide is someone who keeps doing the same stupid shit day after day, and is seemingly never held accountable. We get enough of that in the average work week. We don't need to see our favorite team do it when we come home, too.
So good riddance, Brisebois. Perhaps the blame is not yours entirely. After all, who can blame you for living the dream of playing for your home team? We can surely blame the managers and coaches who let you on the ice as well. And we should also know better than to believe the ridiculous platitudes from the sports-writers when they say "but he TRIED hard." If they are to believed, then I'm owed a spot on the Canadiens roster too.
One of my favorite books/short stories is Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut (complete text here). In it, we see a dystopic future where everyone is dumbed down to the lowest common denominator. Those with athletic ability are encumbered by weights. Those with exceptional minds have implants that disrupt their thoughts. All in the effort to make sure everyone feels good about themselves, and no one is better than anyone else. All that matters now is how hard people try, without any consideration of the actual results.
And that's what pisses me off about Brisebois and his apologists: he TRIED hard.
So what? He sucked.
A virtue we Americans think is unique to us is that we value effort over ability. Work hard, get ahead. But in no area is it more obvious than professional sports that we also value exceptional talent. As Crash Davis put it, when folks like Nuke Laloosh were born, the Gods reached down and turned their arms into thunderbolts. You don't pitch in yankee stadium or Fenway Park unless you were blessed with talent that ordinary people can only dream about. Yet we don't deplore that; we rush out and buy replicas of their uniforms. (I suspect that one reason for this is the mystical belief that clothing ourselves in the same garments of our heroes somehow brings us closer to possessing their exceptional powers.)
Of course, the athletes dearest to us are the ones who are both talented AND hard-working. The 1980 US Olympic hockey team would never have beaten the Russians without an exceptional degree of talent, and could not have done so without an equal measure of hard work. As much as we like to pretend they were your average, hard-working, next-door-neighbor blue-collar Americans, those boys were not ordinary humans. Though not as gifted as the Russians they played, they still were a bunch of Division-1 stars, many of whom were on their way to the NHL. But what makes them truly outstanding is their combination of ability and truly exceptional effort.
Another heart-warming story that comes to mind is "Rudy," where a kid without size or natural ability manages to earn his way onto the playing field for Notre Dame for two plays. But that's the problem with Brisebois: he was just like Rudy, but got to play ALL THE TIME.
Youth sports teach us many things. One of them is the ability (hopefully) to recognize and accept our own limitations. True, we may rise above those limitations for one glorious second, one play, or even an entire game, but sooner or later we still have to find a way to accept ourselves for what we are, warts and all. That's what maturity is. I know I have an accurate wrister and can skate pretty fast. But I also know I will never be able to make a brilliant pass or see the ice like Wayne Gretzky could. And really, that wrist shot is probably not as good as I'd like to think it is.
So what example does Patrice Brisebois set? The answer is: It doesn't matter how much you suck. We'll let you play because you try REALLY hard. And even though this is a results-oriented business, fuck it, go on out there and give it your best shot. And you get to keep a roster spot and wear the sweater of the most storied franchise in the NHL. The fans, who live day-to-day with their own regrets and petty victories and defeats, who want to escape for an hour and a half into the NHL's marvelous display of ability, where they can fantasize about being part of that dream-world and hopefully, just maybe, become a living breathing part of a championship team, instead get to watch the idiots who keep playing Brisebois tear that dream-world apart. They get to see their beloved team lose because of a bone-headed pass or yet another coughed-up puck. They get to add that bitter disappointment to the real-life disappointments they experience every day. We can forgive the Ryan O'Byrnes or Steve Smiths who make that occasional, really stupid play like putting the puck into their own net, because we know they'll do better next time. We can get behind that, cause we've all been there in our personal lives. What we can't abide is someone who keeps doing the same stupid shit day after day, and is seemingly never held accountable. We get enough of that in the average work week. We don't need to see our favorite team do it when we come home, too.
So good riddance, Brisebois. Perhaps the blame is not yours entirely. After all, who can blame you for living the dream of playing for your home team? We can surely blame the managers and coaches who let you on the ice as well. And we should also know better than to believe the ridiculous platitudes from the sports-writers when they say "but he TRIED hard." If they are to believed, then I'm owed a spot on the Canadiens roster too.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Phil Kessel: an exercise in stupidity
Let's take a look at the Phil Kessel trade:
Toronto gets: Phil Kessel
Boston gets: 1st and 2nd round picks in 2010, 1st round pick in 2011
Let's look deeper. A team desperately trying to rebuild sacrifices three early-round picks for the next two years. In exchange, they get a young player who, while good, will not aid either in rebuilding or in mentoring the developing players. Toronto's GM, Brian Burke said, "Bringing Phil Kessel aboard, it's a statement to our players that we intend to be competitive right away".
That's very nice Brian. I intended to be the starting RW for Les Canadiens. Somehow my intentions and reality did not mesh.
On the other hand, a team with a bonafide star, and not at all in the midst of rebuilding, mortgaged that player for picks that have no guarantee of paying off to the degree Kessel did. And even if those picks do become stars, they won't come into their own for several more years. So the Bruins, after last year's success, and presumably hoping to build upon it, are instead acting like a rebuilding team.
OK, so maybe Kessel was not long for Boston. That's fine. Just look at the Senators--you can't blame them for trading away a cancerous teammate. (Ouch--I meant that figuratively.) But for the Bruins to trade away a star while they are fast becoming a contender, and get nothing back for the immediate future, is ridiculously stupid. Meanwhile, the Leafs just don't get it either.
Of course, the benefit for this Montreal hockey fan is that I get to laugh at both the Leafs and Bruins. Just goes to show that Montreal doesn't have a monopoly on bad management.
Toronto gets: Phil Kessel
Boston gets: 1st and 2nd round picks in 2010, 1st round pick in 2011
Let's look deeper. A team desperately trying to rebuild sacrifices three early-round picks for the next two years. In exchange, they get a young player who, while good, will not aid either in rebuilding or in mentoring the developing players. Toronto's GM, Brian Burke said, "Bringing Phil Kessel aboard, it's a statement to our players that we intend to be competitive right away".
That's very nice Brian. I intended to be the starting RW for Les Canadiens. Somehow my intentions and reality did not mesh.
On the other hand, a team with a bonafide star, and not at all in the midst of rebuilding, mortgaged that player for picks that have no guarantee of paying off to the degree Kessel did. And even if those picks do become stars, they won't come into their own for several more years. So the Bruins, after last year's success, and presumably hoping to build upon it, are instead acting like a rebuilding team.
OK, so maybe Kessel was not long for Boston. That's fine. Just look at the Senators--you can't blame them for trading away a cancerous teammate. (Ouch--I meant that figuratively.) But for the Bruins to trade away a star while they are fast becoming a contender, and get nothing back for the immediate future, is ridiculously stupid. Meanwhile, the Leafs just don't get it either.
Of course, the benefit for this Montreal hockey fan is that I get to laugh at both the Leafs and Bruins. Just goes to show that Montreal doesn't have a monopoly on bad management.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Habs win! Plan the parade!
Yeah, whatever. Anyone out there who thought I cared about preseason hockey is sadly mistaken. I don't watch the games, only the highlights on TSN the morning after.
Monday, September 14, 2009
"Get over it."
Get over it? HabsInsideOut has got some nerve. One does not simply forget one of their favorite players, who also happens to be the most personally inspirational man I have ever seen. So screw off, Mike Boone. Until the Habs win the Stanley Cup, I will continue to damn Gainey for what he did. Get over that, Mike.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
It are my birfday
So how fitting is this? Darby Conley, illustrator of "Get Fuzzy" uses the Habs logo in his comic strip. And, best of all birthday presents, he uses the bruins logo in relation to monkeys, and doesn't change it at all. Is that saying something? I think it is.
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