Newcastle Vipers 2010/11: A Season in Review (or more accurately, a woman in disarray)

Some things have come to light over the last few days that have made me realise that in about 5 days’ time, I am going to be in serious trouble. What do we know about me already? That I’m a shameless beard-obsessed stalker with a southern accent, a penchant for large defencemen and fermented apple drinks, and a tendency to ramble on nonsensically. We also know from experience that I have numerous dependency issues, and these are what concern me. I have just experienced my first weekend in quite a significant length of time W.O.H.: With. Out. Hockey. And I didn’t like it. It was weird. And wrong. I sat around the house like a petulant teenager declaring everything to be 'boring'. Thankfully this weekend I have play-offs to look forward to but after that… what? The approaching void of the summer is looming large and I need to figure out something to fill it with, and fast. Here are the ideas I have come up with so far:

- Take up tennis/martial arts/marathon running/competitive cookie-baking (let's just re-cap on those thoughts - acceptable/dangerous/foolish/winning).

- Reverse hibernation. Wake me up in September? (A good idea in theory, but conversely I really like the sun)

- Actually learn to skate. (Being at Whitley Bay all the time probably wouldn’t be great for my mental health however).

- Do something mind-expanding. Like reading a… what are those paper things called with all the words in again? One of them, anyway.

- Take up amateur dramatics. I could so tread the boards, darling. Or I could express myself through the medium of contemporary dance. Or mime. Oh dear lord, anything but mime.

- Start gambling obsessively. (My dependent nature would really lend itself to this one! Any tips?)

Yes. As you can see, I haven’t gotten particularly far. But honestly, if I don’t find something of substance to occupy my mind, things could get messy in the cranial department. And that will probably result in me running away to Canada. Actually, there are no drawbacks to that plan. For now, at least, I will continue to indulge myself. Far from being ready to let go of the season that was, I have scraped together some final thoughts and ramblings of mine on the players, the season and the Vipers in general to finish on what I hope will be a slightly cheerier, if not more erratic, note than last week. Then I will let them go gracefully. And come back to you next week with news of Devils, Giants, Steelers and Panthers. Yes, it’s going to be an epic weekend in Nottingham. I can see the headlines now as I go MIA. ‘Katy Parles, Champion Beard Hunter! Last seen rampaging through the National Ice Centre screeching about play-off beards.’ Honestly, it was hard enough to cope with successfully blogging the comings and goings of ONE beard (enigmatic as said beard was). But play-offs actually have beards named after them! And ALL the players grow them. I’m going to have some kind of cardiac episode, I’m quite certain of it.

So what about this season then? Turbulent is probably an apt word. In fact, it had more ups and downs than a spritely gymnast after a crate-full of Red Bull, on a pogo stick, on a trampoline. Here is my summary of the season, in less than 300 words. It features some of my personal highlights and memories, and I hope it will remind you of some of yours.

The beginnings – feeling like an infant, instantly falling in love, the hyperactive fly effect… Chewiiiie… learning the offside rule again… skating face first… Dale Mahovsky’s teeth… Scott Langdon – ‘chippy’… Sammy taking on Brad Voth (Behemoth)… Drive for Five… Alex Penner being psychotic… my first ever hockey jersey… third period collapses… bench clearance in Coventry… the turning point – Danny’s Dozen beating Coventry at home… CHARLIE! CHARLIE CHARLIE!... cheating on football with ice hockey… double figures over Dundee… financial peril – and lots of it… stupid superstitions… ice hockey community spirit... the mass exodus in December - of players AND hair… the relief of finding out we would last the season… that win in Belfast… TWO wins over Nottingham – now that’s what I call Sexy Neilson Hockey… THAT goal by John Schwarz… Mike Prpich’s beard… and the continuing hunt for it… Danny’s slapshot… Ninja Rzeszutko… Hartmanis’ speed… wanting to mother hockey players… not enough D men… innuendos in the corporate lounge… Sammy's gonna get ya… learning Geordie... Dean Holland – the People’s Choice… Dan Pye massive, learning to shout at match officials… HAVING to shout at them – a lot… learning just about everything else I know about ice hockey (thanks Kev!)… making some great friends, the cider, the laughs, the dancing, the gossip, the nonsense, the chants… ‘howaaaay’… the Effinger Pounce… discovering Rockies bar... Big Friendly Giants... Whitley Bay love... tears and cheers... Dundee being smelly... saying goodbye in style – We’ll Meet Again

To add to his ever-growing list of skills (which mainly features various outstanding hair-sprouting abilities), Mike Prpich can add the ability to grow a Dundee Stars player from his back. Impressive stuff.

I told you this was going to be erratic.

Bearing in mind how lost I was after the departure of Dale Mahovsky, I am concerned about my emotional well-being now, as I’ve become so fond of all of our players, it’s like losing him 10 times over. Except worse, as I’ve had an extra three months to become attached to them. Each and every one of those players is dear to me and will always have a special place in my heart. Aww. Group hug.

Even though they are all destined to go their separate ways in the coming weeks, and I have to resist the overwhelming urge to sort of round them up and put them in a pen, like a collection of wayward sheep, I will graciously let them run free in the world, but not before first spending some time remembering these wonderful individuals who made our season what it was. I’ll start with those who didn’t complete the season, before moving onto thank the stalwarts (really, is ice hockey so fleeting and ephemeral that sticking around in one place for seven months classes as a long-term commitment? That’s a whinge for another blog post. Anyway, on with the show…)

One of my favourite photos of the season. So worrying, I do not have a single amusing caption to go with it. But please note, there are three hockey players in this photo. Two of them are Vipers. Can you spot them?

To the dearly departed…

Rob Wilson – like ships in the night, our paths never crossed. Please insert relevant comment here: _____________________________________

Blair Stayzer – tall, dark, tanned and lazy, he was ice hockey’s equivalent of David Dickinson, playing ice hockey.

Scott Langdon – sing along: 'he’s big, he’s hard, he left us short in defence to go back to North America which was a bit rubbish but never mind…'? Work with me here, people.

Dan Speer – showed signs of life at times but didn't seem to gel. It’s fine Dan, we get it. Not everyone appreciates the beauty of a good stottie or a fine ice facility such as Whitley Bay.

Nathan Salem – did not play much of a role before heading off to play for the Northern Stars.

Nick Duff – like a ghost at a sceptic seance, he never appeared.

Jamie Carroll – good dude. Couldn’t shake the feeling that at any moment he might stop skating, throw down his helmet and bust out a version of ‘The Real Slim Shady’, though.

Dale Mahovsky – the dirty, dirty splitter (it’s fine. I’m SO over him. I didn’t nearly go on strike when they gave the number 91 jersey to someone else or anything. Nope).

Patrik Forsbacka – sneaked out the back door like the big Finnish wookie-alike sneaker that he is. I shake my fist at him. And then run away.

And to those who stayed ‘til the bitter end…

Charlie Effinger – what can I say about Charlie other than CHARLIE! CHARLIE! CHARLIE! Most improved player, netminder extraordinaire and the heart and soul of the team.

Liam McAllister – a worthy back-up to Charlie and a cheeky chappy to boot. Guy likes to eat a lot of sandwiches.

Kyle Sibley – teeny, tiny, super-speedy, likes to attack from defence. He’s the Ashley Cole of the Vipers. Except not a massive idiot.

John Schwarz – had an interesting season which started out fairly anonymously, had a bit of injury in the middle and then he became an immense paragon of awesomeness. Goal against Panthers was the highlight of the season. Then he got injured (again). And morphed into a younger version of Fabio Capello.

Sammy Zajac – heart of a lion in the body of a ferret. Or something along those lines. No-one worked harder. Or fought more people over three times their size. Dude.

Danny Stewart – played almost a full season out of position and had some hairy (ish!) moments as a result, but more than made up for it with his tenacity, never-say-die attitude and coaching awesomeness.

Mike Prpich – together we embarked on a journey of beard-worship that transcended space and time. But it appears that after starting in a blaze of bearded glory, he has chosen to end the season without the blessed thing. It was last seen swiftly exiting the building wearing a disguise. Come to think of it, what would a beard wear as a disguise, do you think? A face?! Farewell, sweet beard! ‘Til we meet again!

Jaroslaw Rzeszutko – Ninja. What else can be said about this guy. Super-fast goal-machine. People couldn’t spell his name. I hope he didn’t mind too much.

Toms Hartmanis – incredible skater, great forward. Between him, Jaro and Prpich they almost single-handedly ensured we scored some goals. Thank goodness.

Dean Holland – the People’s Choice.

Paul Sample – Vipers Captain, a fairly quiet season but he steadied the ship and led from the front.

Jamie Tinsley – hard-working, dedicated, saw a lot of ice in the second half of the season and did very little wrong.

And the Whitley Warriors and Northern Stars who bolstered our numbers on occasion, notable mentions to Adam Reynolds and Dan Pye. Thank you!

The 2010/1 season: the vital statistics:

My Viper stats: 9 wins 15 defeats – No. of streaks – 0 (it was too cold for that business).
Number of teeth lost – 5 (that I noticed!)

Number of beards grown – 695 – averages approximately 49 beards per Viper. Sort of. That’s about 8 each a month. Sounds about right, doesn’t it?

Goals scored – some

Goals conceded – more

Penalties – loads

Fights – several

Going - got tough

Tough - got going

Ciders – 53 (at least)

Unrequited cuddles for injured players – 83

SexyNeilsonHockey – 200%

Dancing – poor

Cheering – loud

Spirit – fighting

Memories – a lifetime’s worth

Thanks again for reading, everybody. It's been a pleasure to share this journey with you. Here's hoping I'll be back next year with more juicy Vipers fruit for your delectation. I'll say no more on that matter for now! But please come back next week for my play-off review! Marvel as I attempt to remember four whole other sets of players and compare and contrast their beards! Gasp in wonder as I single-handedly dissect the weekend's hockey action despite excessive apple juice consumption! Shudder as I recount in vivid detail the pain and agony of my final hockey withdrawal symptoms! And other such jollities! See you then!

That’s All Folks

Perspective. There’s a rare and precious commodity I could use a little of right now. Writing this blog post in a month’s time I would probably be able to wax lyrical about the Vipers’ season, contrast the highs and lows, list the best bits, review the players, maybe even summarise my journey from hockey novice to regular hockey fan. And I could put it all into context and perhaps accept that my life isn’t actually over. But perspective is not a luxury I am lucky enough to be afforded right now, so as it is, this is probably going to be the toughest thing I have ever had to write in my erratic (and for the most part imagined) journalistic career. But I have loved writing about this hockey team all season long and there’s not a dog in a pond’s chance I’m going to let them go without a proper send-off, gut-wrenching as it’s going to be to put down onto paper (screen) the emotions that I am feeling right now.

So I’m going to review the final weekend in all its glory. I thought about breaking it up into parts but sod it, I’m going to do it justice in one long final hurrah. I’m even going to attempt to review the matches. Well, vaguely. But I’m not going to shy away from the reality of the situation, so you’d better prepare yourselves. There will be sad bits. There will be happy bits. There will be cuddly, fluffy and squishy bits. I will do my damnedest to ensure it makes sense and is as optimistic as I can manage because that’s the least this team deserve. Buckle up sports fans, as we take our final spin on the rollercoaster ride that has been Vipers Hockey. It’s going to be a long one.

Saturday 19th March 2011 – saying Goodbye to the Bay

I know a lot of people have had their problems with Whitley Bay and yes, having seen on the tele-box and even in person, now, the Utopian Ice Paradises of such places as the Odyssey Arena and the National Ice Centre, I can understand why. It’s small, dingy, old, uncomfortable, poorly lit, freezing cold and the lines beneath the ice have all but disappeared. Plus it doesn’t belong to us, is awkward for fans to get to and just generally causes a bit of a grump amongst the Vipers massive.

I’ll admit I’m hugely biased because it’s 5 minutes’ drive from my house; hell, I could even have walked there if I felt so inclined (I never did), but you know what, it’s not even the convenience factor that I’ll miss about Whitley Bay ice rink now the season has come to a close. It’s my first ice rink. The one where I fell in love with ice hockey. And until last weekend, the only ice hockey rink I’d been to. It’s the one where I lost my heart to the Vipers, made friends with like-minded people, drank cider and laughed and cheered and danced and learnt everything I know about this beautiful game. And you know the thing I will miss most? Aside from the strange, cold, yet sometimes vibrant atmosphere which prevails there, the impact of being so very close to the ice surface, wherever in the building you are, and the somewhat ominous ambience the place has due to the yellow-ish darkness which somehow lends itself so perfectly to this oftentimes dark and menacing sport.

It’s the smell. It gets me every time. On the approach you anticipate it, and there it is; your nostrils fill with the unique scent of fried cheese mixed with decomposing rubber. And then you get into the rink itself. The ice has a weird, wet smell that hangs on your hair and your clothes long after you leave the rink. That smell will stay with me for as long as that ice rink stays standing. I have no doubt I will go there during the summer and feel all wrong because it’s light outside and the sun is shining but there will be that smell: so familiar, so tangible I can almost grab it. It will all come rushing back to me. The sound of the cheers echoing in my ears, the crisp ‘swoosh’ of skaters stopping and swiftly changing direction, cutting into the ice with precision, the smack of the puck against a stick, or a goalpost, or some teeth.

The Bay. Perfect? Nope. My favourite place in the North-East? Even above the pub (all of them)? Yup.

It may not be perfect, but I’ll never forget that battered old building on Hillheads Road, and all the good times I’ve had there. So, unexpectedly, Saturday was a harder day for me than Sunday, and it caught me unawares. It was the last Vipers home game, and the first in a double-header against Dundee. It could have been all to play for, had various factors not taken the power out of our hands and left us with nothing to play for but pride. But as has been the case with this team time and time again over the course of the season, there’s no telling the Vipers players when to quit. Amid a throng of fans paying tribute to the heroes of the season through song, the team set about attacking the game with trademark tenacity. We went 1-0 down in the first but came back fighting, our three goals coming in quick succession, and all from the fearsome two-some of Hartmanis and Rzeszutko. They went as follows: first goal – amazing individual skill from Hartmanis; second goal – cheeky and lucky, (and some other lesser known dwarves), some nifty link-up play between the two around the back of the net; third goal – Jaro Ninja strikes and follows up with one of his awesome celebrations. Love that.

Towards the end of the first period there were some issues and controversy, as is usual in games between us and Dundee, and that combined with some technical issues with the scoreboard meant a lengthy delay in proceedings. We struggled again against some questionable refereeing, and in the second period it seemed to affect the team, and they lost their way and were made to pay by the Stars. Dundee did their best to help us out, taking penalty after penalty and rarely fielding a full set of five skaters, but we were plagued once again by an ineffective powerplay, and we failed to make the most of the opportunities. The lead slipped away, and we moved into the third period with a tied game. In the third period we clawed our way back into the game but were unable to make any impact on Kurdna’s net and Dundee struck the final blow. A devastating and undeserved loss for our final game, but a hard-fought one too, and nothing to be ashamed of. Following the game the players were introduced individually for the fans to show their appreciation, before Danny took to the mic to give a few heartfelt words of thanks to everyone involved with the club. There were tears and cheers all around the rink as the home crowd said goodbye to surely one of the gutsiest and most determined groups of individuals ever to grace the ice of Whitley Bay and maybe even British ice hockey in general.

Danny's Lionhearts. We love you guys, and we will never forget you! THANK YOU!

Sunday 20th March 2011 – Danny Stewart and the Last Crusade

By rights, the away trip to Dundee, what with being the team’s last ever game together, and probably our last ever game as a club, should have been even sadder than Saturday. But it wasn’t. As 49 Vipers fans boarded a stunningly shiny futuristic silver pod of a coach to make the long trip to the wilds of Scotland, there was a mood of defiant buoyancy. This trip WAS going to be fun, and no faffing about with your namby-pamby soppy tears or reminiscing. Are you northern or not? (Nope. Sshh, don’t tell anyone. I don’t think they’ve noticed, my Geordie accent has really come on lately!).

On arrival in Dundee I noticed a small number of important details. There was a KFC. This was good news, as I was hungry. The rink looked impressive from the outside. And Dundee smelt really rather bad. Following a fast food fix, we headed rink-wards where we enjoyed Dundee’s pleasant bar facilities whilst admiring their little gem of a rink. Honestly, if it’s possible to marry an ice rink, then someone hand me a ring because I am in LOVE. What a diamond little place. I was over-awed by the Odyssey Arena, to the point of detachment, but Dundee is a cracker. It combines all the best features of a place like the Odyssey – bright lights, decent seating, good views and good facilities, with the proximity to the ice and the intimacy that is Whitley Bay’s strong suit. All in all it was the perfect ice experience and as one Vipers fan suggested, if we could have hooked the Dundee Ice Arena to the back of the bus and towed it home, I really think we would have.

Aah, look at the lovely rink! Look how shiny and bright! I can has?

And so down to business, for the last time this season. It was somehow fitting that as all the two-way players from Whitley Warriors and Northern Stars were unavailable, the team that took to the ice were the bare bones – but the heart and soul – of the Vipers team we have known and loved all season. Nine skaters and two netminders. Small but perfectly formed. Our little half-sized hockey unit with double the heart of a full strength squad. 50% off, but 110% extra free. I could continue in this vein. Shall I? Okay fine, I’ll get on with it. Around 100 Vipers turned out to see the lads off in style and boy did Dundee know about it. The singing was loud, proud and constant. Every Vipers fan, clad in at least one jersey, wore their hearts on their sleeves and clapped until their hands stung, and sang until they had no voices left.

The first period was as exciting a period of hockey as we’ve seen all season. Close-fought and hard battled, the effort from both teams was reflected the scoreline going into the period break, at 1-1. In the second period, back-up netminder Liam McAllister made a rare appearance. Sadly for the travelling fans, Dundee took advantage, pouncing early and scoring four goals in quick succession to effectively kill off the game. But the Vipers fans continued singing regardless, and I heard some great chants on the night, some of which I wouldn’t dare to repeat on here, some of which were quite moving, and one of which was a touching one-man tribute to Kyle Sibley, which I rather enjoyed given my affection for the aforementioned diminutive defenceman.

The Vipers Massive. They're MASSIVE! How's that for away support? Are you watching Elite League!

The rest of the game was academic really. There was surpisingly little in the way of conflict, and Dan Ceman's men asserted themselves and made the nine-odd man advantage tell. We did manage to get on the score-sheet again through that man Rzeszutko, to give us one last goal to go crazy for, and then we sadly lost Danny Stewart to injury in an unfortunate and violent meeting between puck and foot. The coach took man of the match, which seemed fitting.

And so that was that. Season over. We trooped back to the coach for a surprisingly upbeat journey home, and then went our separate ways, wistful in the memory of what had been, and what could have been. Or maybe that was just me. Something about a sub-standard cheese pizza from a late-night kebab shop really puts me in a thinking sort of a mood.

The end of this season is a double-edged sword, as we are losing two distinct entities, both of which mean so much to so many, but in quite different ways. Firstly and most importantly is the end of this ice hockey club – it’s not set in stone, and I for one will be keeping everything crossed as well as trying to win the lottery on a weekly basis – but it’s looking likely. It’s the end of an era for the devoted and loyal following that I have been proud to call myself a part of for just six short months, during which time I’ve seen a brief snapshot of a tight-knit community, passionate and dedicated to the very last. These fans are not just losing something to do on a Saturday night. They are losing something which has been a massive part of their lives for the last few years. I can’t compare my experience to that of the hardcore, the lifers; they have made countless fantastic memories with this organisation, and I can’t and won’t even pretend to understand how deeply this will affect them, as the reality is I’m a total newcomer and I have not been a part of this club’s history. They have. The hurt I am feeling must be a hundred times worse for them and I can only hope that something, anything, can be done to rescue the club in its time of need. These much-vaunted hockey gods I’ve heard so much about really need to get their holy fingers out, because it would be criminal for this to come to an end.

But the second thing we are losing is something that I would have shed tears over losing whether or not this club continued its tenuous existence, and that is the loss of a sporting team unlike any other I have ever seen. Danny Stewart and his players have given everything and more for the club and the fans this season and they will all go on to great things, of that I have no doubt. Each and every one of them deserves so much love and respect for the part they have played in this topsy-turvy few months, and they will live on forever in the memories of the fans who were lucky enough to share this crazy ride with them. They are testament to the fact that good friendships, heart and determination and a will to succeed can overcome almost anything.

I have long said that this experience reminds me of a movie, and that I would love to make a film about the amazing ups and downs of this season. A true underdog story. It’s not a story about miracles but instead a film about triumph over adversity, hopes and dreams, anticipation, ups and downs, sticking together, tenacity, guts and loyalty; the true underdog mentality. It’s not about the perfect outcome, but the spirit in which the almost achieving it was achieved. But every sports film needs a happy ending. And we don’t have one of those. Yet.

The End

(Oh and just in case you were wondering, I’m not going anywhere. The blog may take a slightly different format in the coming weeks and months but I will still be here in some way, shape or form. What the hell else am I going to do with myself if I can’t babble on about hockey. Later in the week I will, with added perspective and hopefully humour, sum up the season as I have seen it, and ponder the path our futures might take without hockey. There will also be extensive review of the play-off weekend, in early April, as I attempt to turn my journalistic tendencies to something more objective. Oh who am I kidding, I’ll be rating player beards and searching for Sexy Neilson Hockey and I’m not ashamed to say it. Until then folks, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this blog as much as I have writing it. It’s been a pleasure in so many ways. And I’m gushing again, which is silly as I’ll be back in a few days. Ta ta for now).

My first, my last, my everything

I’m going to come clean, dearest readers. The nearer the end of the season gets, the harder it is for me to write coherent and upbeat blog posts. I have two whole matches from last weekend to review, and yet my drafts up to now have been all padding and no meat. And nobody wants that. Except possibly skinny vegetarians. I’ve concluded that I’m TOO involved. Before, I was happily standing at the prow of the good ship Vipers looking back at the action and off in to the future but now the ship’s hit the iceberg of reality and I’m officially drowning in a sea of too much ice hockey (if that’s even possible), and it’s about to all go black. Drama!

The weekend I’ve just had was so hockey-dominated it makes me wonder if I’ll remember how to function once it all comes to an end. It was a weekend of firsts, ironic given the fact that it was the penultimate weekend of the regular Elite League ice hockey season, and quite possibly the penultimate weekend of Vipers hockey for the foreseeable future. But I might as well make the most of it while it lasts, so here goes!

Saturday 12th

First up was my first ever away trip, and my first ever visit to another rink for an ice hockey match. And what better place to pop my away cherry than Belfast. The weekend started at an hour I’d heard tell of in myth and legend but never actually believed really existed. Disappointingly, it does. I rose zombie-like from my bed at 4:50am on Saturday morning, and joined the merry band of 21 Vipers fans on a flight to the Northern Irish capital for a day of hockey and plenty of craic along the way. I felt a bit guilty that the team were travelling the painfully slow way, via coach to Stranraer and then the ferry across the Irish Sea, whilst we were swanning about the fine drinking establishments of Belfast, but I decided we’d earned the right to a few drinks after the time the alarm went off that morning.

Speaking of drinking establishments, I made my highly anticipated first (ooh, another first!) visit to the much-lauded Rockies Bar – and what a bar! It’s an ice hockey fan’s paradise. Hockey utopia, if you will. Hockey and beer and sport on the TV and other hockey fans. Bliss. What I wouldn’t give to have such a place in the local area. I would literally live there. As for the Odyssey Arena itself, well, it was something else. I felt very disconnected from it all at first, as though perhaps I was there to watch somebody else’s teams play. So stunned was I by the bright lights, padded seats and dramatic intro video montage it came as quite a shock to me when the Vipers team took to the ice and reminded me that I was there for a reason.

They looked so teeny on that massive rink; although I would mention they weren’t quite so outsized as they had been at Whitley Bay when the Giants visited a few weeks ago, mainly due to the fact that the enormous Mike Hoffman was being rested. I was reliably informed that Hoffman was in fact engaged in a competitive pizza-eating contest against Giants fans that evening – I kid you not. Oh, and they had cheerleaders!! And a giant sandwich for a mascot! It was all extremely surreal and for a few moments I was able to re-capture those feelings of blissful ignorance that I experienced back in the beginning of my ice hockey adventure, although now it was probably more to do with the numerous beverages in my belly and the dazzling effect of the lights gleaming off of the perfectly smooth ice surface. (The lights! I can’t get over them. They were so BRIGHT! I am so taking sunglasses to play-offs).

Even my camera struggled to make sense of the sheer amount of light in the Odyssey Arena. Note however, Mike Prpich's beard, clearly visible. I am almost certain this beard will be visible from Space. Confirmation from NASA expected imminently.

We were all having a perfectly jolly time in Belfast until the minor inconvenience of an ice hockey match interrupted our beer-drinking. How rude. I don’t plan to dwell on the hockey itself for more than a sentence or two. The Vipers just weren’t at the races. We did our best but it fell way short of the mark. We held on in the first period mainly due to some outstanding saves from Charlie Effinger but collapsed in the second and third, barely registering any convincing shots on goal and doing well to limit the Giants to single figures. There was a moment of hope in the first period break as there were fears of the game being called off after the zamboni leaked gas onto the ice, burning a hole in it and forcing Giants staff to relay a patch of ice and hope that it held. Sadly it did, and the Vipers were forced to endure the beating. We sang as loudly as we could but 21 versus over 4,000 is a bit of a mismatch, so I’ve no idea if our attempts reached the ears of our lads, although we did attract some quizzical looks from some of the Belfast fans in the next block along from us, presumably as they tried to figure out what the slight buzzing noise coming from their left was.

The evening that followed was as memorable as the hockey was forgettable, with highlights too many to mention, although I would like to note for the record that one of them involved a certain elite league hockey coach gleefully accepting a mask of a certain other elite league hockey coach to take home with him. Made my night, that did.

Sunday 13th

After another bright and early start, a short plane trip, a quick kip on the sofa and a cheese toastie the weekend’s hockey action continued in earnest on Sunday. Playing the league leaders and the title chasers in two consecutive days? No bother. Whitley Bay was packed to the rafters (well, compared to normal!), many Steelers fans having made the short trip north, and tensions were running high. The atmosphere was excellent and the game couldn’t have been more different from yesterday’s flat-as-a-proverbial-pancake effort in Belfast. Bright and sparkly as the Odyssey Arena may be, it really can’t compete in terms of feeling connected to the action; I sincerely doubt anywhere could have quite the impact Whitley Bay has in terms of feeling a part of it all. Plus my eyes felt much more comfortable, accustomed as they are to the dimly lit surroundings of the Bay. I think I must be devolving into some kind of prehistoric creature because of that place; part human, part freezer-dwelling mole.

And so to another first – my first time seeing the Steelers live this season. First impressions? They were quick and efficient, but within recent weeks I’ve seen more attacking prowess from Belfast, more power from Cardiff and more flair from Nottingham (yes, really). Yes they were well-drilled, but they were the least impressive of the title contenders in my humble opinion. Of course it could have just been an off day for them, but I feel it may have had more to do with the intensity of the Vipers, who were switched on straight away, and only conceded their first two goals through really unlucky bounces. We really did seem to have run out of luck on Sunday; sometimes things just don’t go your way, however hard you battle. The Vipers weren’t intimidated by the Steelers but failed to capitalise on their powerplay opportunities once again – they did however manage a penalty kill or two which was just lovely. (Get me! I'll be talking about tactics next!! No, I really won't).

We went 3-0 down early in the second but nothing could deter the Vipers from giving their home crowd something to shout about and Danny Stewart scored another one of his trademark slapshot goals mid-way through the second and sent the fans into paroxysms of joy. I have come to the conclusion that Danny is a complete and utter legend. He is our Coach Bombay, only mouthier. And balder. I fully intend to squeeze the life out of him at the end of the season (if I’m drunk enough) for all of the amazing work he has done with the team despite all the problems, but quite aside from his coaching prowess he’s pretty amazing on the ice too; fast, feisty and fearless. Exactly what you want in a coach and a hockey player. Am I gushing much? I’ll move on.

Spot the Puck. Charlie is seconds away from executing the trademark Effinger pounce. The Steelers might as well give up. He moves faster than a cheetah on Red Bull.

The whole team were BACK against Sheffield, it has to be said. My most recent favourite Viper, Kyle Sibley, had another strange game, making up for a number of errors with twice as many moments of genius – he is a bit of an enigma it has to be said and his performances, solid for the most part of the season, have really come into their own over the last few weeks. I would go as far as to call him ‘quirky’. Mike Prpich’s beard was also out in force (I know it seems improbable but really, it was). I have noticed that Mike Prpich’s hair is now trying to compete with Mike Prpich’s beard for attention which intrigues me. It’s previously been an innocent bystander whilst the beard has gone about terrorising the nation but now it’s come into its own, and on Sunday it leapt out from beneath Pirps’ helmet and waged war against the Steelers. I would go so far as to say that Mike Prpich’s combined hairyness was our 13th man.

What else from the game? Derek Campbell seemed keen to get up close and personal with our lads, but the Vipers were resistant to his rather persistent charms, and the Coach gave him a good ear-bashing when both were holed up in the penalty box. Good! We continued be extremely unlucky, having some great chances but not putting them away, although I would venture to suggest that much of our bad luck was actually Steelers' netminder Ervins Mustukovs just being a bit good. Player in the Elite League you LEAST want to face in net? Yup, pretty much. Despite this we fought tooth and nail to pull the scoreline back to 4-3 right at the end of the third period, and proceeded to pull Charlie and play 6 on 5, but there just wasn’t enough time and despite an absolutely amazing effort, the game was lost. Valiant to the death, the Vipers just keep on proving that they will not be beaten. The game was fast, exciting and well-played by all involved – a fantastic spectacle for those attending Whitley Bay for potentially the last time for the foreseeable future.

And so we move into the final weekend of the season for the Vipers, and a double-header against Dundee. There’s a strong contingent of Vipers fans attending both the home and away games and despite them being about nothing more than pride, we are duty-bound to send our boys off in style, and that we shall do. Next week’s post will be momentous. I warn you, I don’t do goodbyes well. Please come prepared. I won’t be held responsible for any spontaneous outbursts of emotion that cause mess on anyone’s desks/screens/clothing.

It’s That Ole Devil called Voth Again

Cards on the table, people. It’s nearing the end. I’m not going to pretend that it’s going to be easy. But we will face it together. First I will deal with the match report-type business-like malarkey, before I descend into hysteria and launch into my man-size box of Kleenex. Dive in with me. There’s enough for everyone. Unless you have a cold. In which case, get your own.

It was the first sighting of a Cardiff Devil in the Newcastle area since way back in November, when the Welsh side were in the midst of an almighty, barn-storming, 21-game winning streak which broke the league (and possibly world) record, and they subsequently perched atop the Elite League for a time before their streak came to an end and they dropped below the Sheffield Steelers. So, a big game for us then? Er, yes. Just a bit.

Sadly I’m not best-placed to provide a detailed report this week, as I was completely cabbaged from sleep deprivation, travelling and excessive consumption of fermented apple drink in London the previous night. The game was missing something in the first period, which was no good at all from a personal point of view, as I struggled to retain consciousness, but I think what was missing was mostly, well, ice hockey. It just didn’t seem to materialise, at least from the Vipers. We seemed devoid of ideas; Cardiff play a physical game and interrupted any flow we were able to muster, and they went in at the first period break 3-1 to the good.

The Devils had the better of us for the majority of the game but it wasn’t a walk in the park for them, and although we produced little in terms of shots on goal, the ones we did produce were accurate and going into the third period we had the score back to 3-2 for a short while and it could have been game on. However our error rate was too high, we turned over too many pucks and even Charlie had an uncharacteristic wobble in goal. Simply put, the guys looked tired, and were out-played, although it’s fair to say the difference between the teams on the night should not have amounted to 5 goals, and we were once again hampered by some questionable refereeing. We also nearly suffered the loss of another defenceman when Kyle Sibley was caught in the face unintentionally by an otherwise rather belligerent Ryan Finnerty (who then proceeded to rub salt in the wound by slamming the penalty box door in Sibley’s already injured face as he attempted to leave the ice for treatment). Suffice to say, I was all kinds of worried, but thankfully Sibs returned unharmed and had I not had to make a swift exit following the game, he would doubtless have found me molesting him with grateful affection in the bar after the game. These hockey players have had some lucky escapes this season, I can tell you.

Sibley had an interesting game actually, making a few careless errors but more than making up for them with some characterful defending and some excellent shots on goal. For our only surviving import defenceman, he has been playing more like a forward lately, and I like it! (Not that John Schwarz is dead; quite the contrary actually. He appears to be living an amazing double life, and has been spotted patrolling the Vipers bench shouting orders in an Italian accent. Yes it’s true. He is our Fabio).

It should be noted that the game also marked the return of the Behemoth himself, Brad Voth, highly anticipated after his clash with our very own Sam Zajac back in November, but it has to be said he behaved himself rather well in the end (as did Sammy!) and he also did us the good service of providing probably the highlight of the evening, as he was set up in front of an empty net and yet somehow managed to sky the puck for one of the misses of the season. It was a highly amusing moment, made even more memorable by Voth’s good-natured acceptance of the heckling from the Vipers fans, giving us a wave for our troubles. All good clean fun.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the one, the only, Mr Bradley Voth. Look how fluffy! It's amazing what a simple pimp costume can do to enhance a man's natural qualities. Mean? Are you kidding me? Even Voths need love.

The defeat on Saturday, although hard fought, was expected, but the Vipers travelled to Hull on Sunday with hopes of an outside chance of nicking something from the game. I wasn’t there but I can safely say the guys gave it everything, yet again, Charlie right back on form letting in only one shot in 59 – yet another truly outstanding performance. We lost by just a single goal. However, the final nail in the coffin of our play-off hopes was tapped into place by the Dundee Stars who won impressively over a slumping Coventry Blaze side, and it’s safe to say that barring a miracle of biblical proportions, that nail will be firmly hammered in come this weekend.

Following the defeat against Hull and the realisation that we are unlikely to make play-offs the reality of the situation facing our beloved club hit me with full force. However I don’t wish to dwell on the stark truth of the matter until it’s absolutely necessary, and between now and then we have two weekends of hockey left and regardless of the league situation here is what it means: we have four games left. Four games to play our hockey and give it our all, just the way we have been, but now without fear and without pressure. Let’s go down fighting. Maybe not literally, but metaphorically. (Or literally, if necessary!) As originally quoted by the inimitable Mr Neil Young (a Canadian himself, so clearly it relates to hockey!), ‘it’s better to burn out than to fade away’, so let’s leave this league with the memory of a Vipers team who have battled for every puck, and fought their hearts out week in week out, right to very last minute of the very last period. They’re not going to forget this team in a hurry. For the Vipers fans, we’ve got four games left to enjoy our team while we still have them, and what a team they are. Let’s go down singing.

March of the Vipers

Welcome to March, people. March! Can you Adam and Eve it! And other such cockney exclamations. It’s frightening how close we are to the end of the season now; I’m trying to trick my brain into not believing it and have spent massive portions of time studying the NHL in order to guarantee myself a couple more months of pleasure before the summer hits with full force and the reality of the hockey emptiness hits home. This has resulted, unsurprisingly, in yet more nervous moments as I wait to see if my team (Calgary Flames) can make it to the play-offs. Nothing can ever be straightforward, can it. SIGH.

But I’m happy to report that of the Vipers’ six remaining league games, I will be in attendance at five, including the last four in a row, and then of course there’s play-off weekend, so I will be able to bring you a veritable smorgasbord of hockey babbling to keep you going well into those dreaded summer months. Or until the second week in April, at least. (This is the first time in my entire life I’ve ever dreaded the summer. I feel so DIRTY!).

It seems as though every game is ‘the most important game of the season’ for the Vipers at the moment, but on Saturday it was unequivocally true as we were once again playing the Dundee Stars, our only rival for 8th spot in the league and the final play-off place. A defeat would have ended our challenge in all but mathematics, a victory would keep us very much in the race, despite the tough selection of fixtures we have facing us during the final weeks.

The momentousness of the occasion played on my mind throughout the week and by the time Saturday night rolled around, I should by rights have been quaking in my boots with nerves. But I wasn’t. A peculiar air of calm had descended over me; I felt all zen. Why? I couldn’t put my finger on it. There was a portentous air of inevitability hanging around the rink, as there has been for some of our other recent matches, but it has gathered density and momentum of late, like a snowball rolling down a hill, and it’s impossible to ignore. The sense that the script for this season is already written may be ominously tempting fate, but it’s prevalent none the less.

Here endeth the slightly abstract, mysterious and speculative section of the post! We did theorise that perhaps the real reason no-one felt nervous was because the players were all clad in the most ridiculous shade of pink. It detracts a certain something from the gravity of such a crunch game when your entire team look like giant shrimp, right down the horrendously clash-y red trim which put me in mind of a platter of fresh king prawns. Sexy. All for a good cause of course, as the simply-named ‘Pink at the Rink’ night was in aid of Macmillan Cancer Support.

A busy day at the salmon farm as the Head Salmon reveals the day's key swim tactics

And so to the game. Just as we had against Belfast last weekend, we got off to a dream start, Jaroslaw Rzeszutko scoring within the first half a minute. In contrast to last week though, he didn’t stop there. Quite what they put in Jaro’s Lucozade this week I don’t know, but whatever it was, I’d like to order a significant amount. He scored a hat-trick in the first period alone, the third goal an absolutely spectacular diving effort over the Stars’ netminder. I’ve been trying to get the nickname ‘Ninja’ for him to catch on in recent weeks and after Saturday’s performance, I hope it will, as I think it fits him perfectly. The guy was on fire. Although someone misunderstood me and started calling him ‘the Jarrow Ninja’, which conjures up a whole different image to what I had in mind!

We weren’t completely dominant in the first period despite the scoreline, one of main issues being our powerplay, which was ineffective at first as we squandered a couple of opportunities before finally finding the key – 5 on 3! Something about a two-player advantage just makes the game that bit easier. It’s a revelation!

We started the second period nervously and Dundee capitalised on our lack of intent, scoring within a minute and again later on in the period, but we scored a couple more of our own to set up what everyone hoped would be a straightforward third period. I must say that the whole affair was passing by with relatively little in the way of conflict which was a surprise to everyone, particularly in light of the last meeting between the two sides which could very well have ended in a bench clearance. Oh and can I just say, I totally called a penalty and got it right!! Go Katy, it’s your birthday etc. (It’s not really. It's June 15th, in case you’re wondering. Please address all gifts to KTDude, number 14, quite near the ice rink, Tyne and Wear. Thanks guuuuuys!).

Blink and you'll miss them. Speed Kings Hartmanis and Rzeszutko

Now, I will devote a whole paragraph to the awesomeness that is our number one forward line. Take a bow Messrs Rzeszutko, Prpich and Hartmanis, you are truly breath-taking. Toms Hartmanis’ astonishing turn of speed, his amazing link up play with Ninja Rzeszutko, and the intensity of the line as a whole is astounding. It breathes life into the whole team every time it takes to the ice, and it can and does induce mild whiplash in all who gaze upon it, as it shoots by at the speed of sound. Dundee looked nervous every time that line took to the ice. But tonight was Rzeszutko’s night. He netted his fourth and fifth in the third period, and despite a spirited fight-back from Dundee, it was never going to be their night. Even if they had scored a couple more – highly unlikely given our second star of the night, Charlie Effinger, who was quietly going about his business saving shot after shot in the background – in the form he was in, Jaro probably would have poked in a couple more just to make a point.

That’s not to say there weren’t nervous moments. It certainly wasn’t plain sailing. Dundee even had six on three at one point, having pulled their netminder whilst we had two in the penalty box, but they couldn’t even convert that, and once the sixth goal went in Dundee would have had to resort to praying for miracles to pull anything from the game. Kudos to their travelling fans though; they were boisterous, lively and vocal for the most part of the match, and we look forward to welcoming them back to the Bay on the final Saturday of the season, before we repay the favour on their patch the very next day! Here’s hoping we are still in the race by then.

A Dundee Star realises his best chance to score at Whitley Bay is to fuse himself to Rzeszutko

I was reliably informed that following the victory the team took to the dressing rooms and spent some time involved in a group singing session which is apparently quite unusual. Perhaps that’s the effect that playing in pink has on a team. It brings out their more, er, shall we say, theatrical side. I now have visions of the players jazz-hands-ing all over the dressing room. Tap dancing isn’t all that different from ice-skating, is it?

I appear to have lost momentum and I’m not sure where I’m going with this post anymore. I think Saturday’s nerves have hit me, belatedly, as I write about yet another fantastic achievement for our lads and think of the mountain they have still to climb in the space of three short weeks. At the end of the day, 8th place is Dundee’s to lose. But we’d better make damn sure we push them every step of the way, and I have no doubt in my mind that we will. To reiterate a phrase which has become one of the catchphrases of the season, and a lot like myself and my obsession with large bearded Canadians, Vipers just don’t know when to quit. And I hope that stays true until the very last moment of the season, regardless of the final outcome. Whatever happens, they can be proud of themselves. D'aww, I feel I warm inside now. Group hug, everybody.