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).