The Finishing Touches: Part 1 – Erhardt Conference

First published on 30/08/2012 on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/

How time flies when your country’s hosting an Olympics.

Drowning in a sea of golden moments, hockey couldn’t have been further from my mind these last few weeks but one can’t fail to respond when a cursory glance at a calendar tells you that the new Elite League season begins in less than a week’s time.

It’s crept up on me unawares and I’ve snapped out of my gold-tinged fantasy to catch up on the latest from around the Elite League, as coaches and owners go about finalising their squads ready to take on the new campaign.

It can’t have escaped anyone’s notice that a number of sides have stacked their ranks up with big, physical players – particularly in the southern conference where coincidentally or not, sides seem to be matching like for like – anything you can do, they cry, we can do better.

Twitter has been littered in recent weeks with YouTube link after YouTube link of new EIHL players squaring off against one another. Yes, it promises to be one of the most physical seasons we have seen in some time and fans will be agog from the first minutes of the friendly games, let alone the season proper – watching for the first signs of conflict, the first attempts to establish dominance, the first statement of intent (some would argue this took place in last night’s ‘friendly’ clash between the  Cardiff Devils and Coventry Blaze).

However, physical or no, there will be a great deal of skill on display in the forthcoming season, the level of quality arguably significantly greater than in recent seasons, with real NHL experience scattered throughout the league as well as players from Germany, Sweden and Austria – all leagues considered to be higher in quality than our Elite League. It looks to be a season of depth, as many teams seek to balance a strong British contingent with dynamic new import talent, combining players with years of British league experience with new faces from both Europe and North America. So without further ado, let’s have a look at the latest additions to our fair league, the veritable cherries on top of the almost perfect hockey-shaped pies – and for the first time ordered by their shiny new conference titles!

THE ERHARDT CONFERENCE

Belfast Giants

When we last visited Belfast, Doug Christiansen had the most still to do with a massive 8 imports left to sign. However Giants fans had nothing to worry about, as signing news came thick and fast throughout July and August, with the import roster completed just last week. A host of fine import talent has joined the league champions and their title defending side looks a strong one, balancing the vast experience of NHL star Greg Stewart and former Giant Rob Sandrock with young talent like Andrew Fournier who comes to the Giants off the back of a brilliant season in the Swedish Elite League in which he racked up an impressive 27 goals from 40 appearances.

Christiansen has gone boldly where no EIHL coach has gone before, continuing in his quest to sign up players under 6 feet tall, throwing fuel on the fire of the rumour that he has a complex about not being the tallest man in a room, and that Mike Hoffman was only signed because he was sitting down at the time. Yes, it’s another smaller than average side; Stewart, Will Colbert and most recently Brock Matheson the only new players over six feet tall, but with the retention of Adam Keefe and Darryl Lloyd there is no sign that the Giants intend to roll over this season, and what they lack in stature they will continue to make up for in tenacity. And players called Brock.

THE SQUAD:

New: David Phillips, Matt Towe, Noah Clarke, Daymen Rycroft, Will Colbert, Sam Roberts, Greg Stewart, Scott Champagne, Rob Sandrock, Andrew Fournier, Brock Matheson

Returning: Murphy, Keefe, Lloyd, Garside, Peacock, Walton, Roberts, Dickson

Cardiff Devils

When we last caught up with the Devils, Gerad Adams was already close to completing his roster. He has since re-signed and re-appointed popular captain Stuart Macrae, in addition to possibly his most controversial signing of the summer, Devin DiDiomete, who for a young man of just 24 comes with considerable high-level experience, having played in excess of 170 AHL games including a full season for Connecticut Whale in 2010/11. Didiomete, affectionately known as ‘Deeds’, has already made his presence felt via Twitter, winding up all and sundry with less tact than an elephant at a funeral, and undoubtedly placing himself top of the hitlist for most of the tough guys in the Elite League, particularly those at rivals Coventry Blaze.  

Whether Didiomete will adapt to the British game remains to be seen; he has been drafted in seemingly as a replacement for Brad Voth and if nothing else, he certainly promises to be as divisive amongst Elite League fans as the mighty Vother once was  – what is yet to become apparent is whether his own fans will warm to his abrasive personality or not. Topping off the pile of Welsh import talent is Jamie Milam, an attacking defenceman with stacks of ECHL and CHL experience behind him. Cardiff have a wealth of experience to call upon this season along with size and toughness – hallmarks of Adams’ style of play – and they will once again be difficult to beat, particularly on their own turf.

THE SQUAD:

New: Phil Osaer, Tyson Marsh, Mac Faulkner, Chris Blight, Piggott, Bari McKenzie, Devin DiDiomete, Jamie Milam

Returning: Adams, Birbraer, Batch, Hill, Harding, K Smith, M Smith, Davies, Macrae

Coventry Blaze

Earlier in the summer Coventry were the team grabbing all the headlines as they snapped up an eye-catching array of early signings, however they have stuttered in recent weeks and these are days of uncertainty in the previously confident Blaze camp as news emerged just over a week ago of the rejection of winger Mike Danton’s visa application. It’s safe to say that without having set foot on the ice yet this season, Danton is already a fan favourite and his experience and skill would be a big loss to the team. At the time of writing, fingers and toes are all crossed for Danton’s safe passage to the UK.

Since we last caught up with Paul Thompson, he has made a collection of new signings, including a trio of Brits, two from the ENL side and one from the Dundee in Steven Chalmers. He completed his import quota by adding Greg Leeb’s brother Brad, who also played in the DEL last season, Mike Shutte, who played most recently in the Italian top league, and Dustin Cameron, a young forward fresh from the ECHL. The side lacks the quality Brits that some of the other Erhardt sides boast and the lack of depth may come back to bite them down the stretch, but with time to spare and toughness in spades there’s no denying the Blaze are a side to watch this season – they could be a dark horse and will certainly cause a few sleepless nights for the smaller, weaker sides in the Elite League.

THE SQUAD:

New: Sam Smith, Mike Danton, Gerome Giudice, Mike Egener, Benn Olson, Greg Leeb, Brad Leeb, Michael Schutte, Adam Goss, Matt Selby, Dustin Cameron, Steven Chalmers

Returning: Venus, Griffin, Guthrie, Cowley, Hirsch, Domish

Nottingham Panthers

Much of Panthers’ business was done early in the summer as they sought to secure the signatures of many of their team regulars. But Coach Neilson had a precious final few spots to fill, and he used the final import spots to bring in a collection of highly experienced players: two defencemen – Eric Werner, with a number of years in Europe behind him, and huge Czech presence Martin Tuma – along with forward David Ling who comes from a season in Italy, has been around the block and then some, and can surely claim to be the only Elite League player drafted by an NHL team who are no longer in existence (Quebec Nordiques).

I question Corey’s choices this year; letting Danny Meyers go in favour of Jonathan Weaver could prove to be a costly mistake and although they have some promising new import talent in Jason Beckett and Bruce Graham, Corey’s reliance on age and experience may be his undoing as the season wears on and younger legs carry the momentum. His trump card is the retention of the core of his team in goaltender Craig ‘K-Wall’ Kowalski and the cream of the UK’s ice hockey talent in such players as David Clarke, Matthew Myers and Rob Lachowicz. For me however, I don’t think it will be enough to compete at the level of the likes of the Giants and the Steelers, and I predict Corey will once again go without the league title he so dearly desires.

THE SQUAD:

New: Jonathan Weaver, Jason Beckett, Pat Galivan, Tom Norton, Bruce Graham, David Ling, Eric Werner, Martin Tuma, Sam Gospel

Returning: Neilson, Kowalski, Benedict, Francis, Green, Clarke, Fox, Levers, Lachowicz, Ward, Lee, Myers

Sheffield Steelers

Consistency is also key to Ryan Finnerty’s gameplan this season, the Steelers too having retained the services of their top-performing Brits, the like of Ashley Tait, Jason Hewitt and Mark Thomas.  I believe the key to  Sheffield’s pursuit of the conference title lies in the confidence of netminder John DeCaro  – will it be rocked from his less than convincing performance last season, or strengthened by his coach’s faith in him and the strength of the defence in front of him, along with the comfort of knowing the rinks and many of the players he will be facing up against? There’s no denying that a netminder with league experience is a valuable asset and DeCaro will be looking to hit the ground running.

Finnerty completed his collection of imports with a trio of strong Canadian signings: Shawn Limpright, a 31 year old forward with years of ECHL experience; Drew Fata, a 29 year old defenceman with  a wealth of AHL games under his belt and Steven Goertzen, 28, one of the strongest signings by any team this summer, with both NHL and AHL games on his impressive CV. The Steelers have strength in depth this season, and a variety of different styles of player – if they gel well together as a team, they will pose the current champions a serious threat. If Finnerty can show his mettle as a coach, watching from the bench as he will be this season, the title could be theirs to lose.

THE SQUAD:

New: Danny Meyers, Colin Shields, Jim Jorgenson, Danny Wood, Cory Pecker, Tylor Michel, Steven Goertzen, Shawn Limpright, Drew Fata

Returning: DeCaro, Hewitt, J Phillips, Esders, Thomas, Tait, Woolhouse, Stephenson, Legue, Sarich

TOMORROW: I take a closer look at the squads of the Gardiner Conference sides

EIHL Play-off Final Weekend Review (in four chapters)

I am rubbish at dealing with endings. As players and fans head back to their normal lives for the summer I cling desperately onto what remains of what has been an interesting and far too fleeting season of Elite League hockey: a sore throat, and the memories. And one of those is welcome to go away. The other I will cherish through the medium of the written word as I review all things play-offs for you over the next day or two.

And what a weekend it was. I had hoped to bring you reports sooner but all kinds of things got in the way, amongst them hotel dramas, late nights, protracted discussions about the state of UK hockey, the spirited singing of numerous topical songs and running from one end of Nottingham to the other on several occasions. But I’m here now and I shall provide for you a veritable cornucopia of hockey news and reviews, as is my raison d’etre.

Let’s begin.

I. Semi-final 1: Belfast Giants v Cardiff Devils

From the back row of the NIC I looked down upon the combatants for the weekend’s first bout of hockey, a duel between reigning league champions the Belfast Giants and the challengers, last year’s finalists the Cardiff Devils. The stage was set and we settled in for what promised to be a tight contest. Team news saw Chris Frank still sidelined with injury for the Devils and no Darryl Lloyd for the Giants, consternation prevailing among the Belfast fans as it was unclear whether or not he had picked up an injury. They wouldn’t scratch him for any other reason, surely?

Play-off finals weekend could not have started any better. The game exploded into life, a wraparound effort from Jon Pelle and a decent shot from Gerad Adams the best of the early attempts on goal, the Devils proving that despite any perceived disadvantage from being short-benched and missing imports, they were ready for the physical challenge ahead of them, as hits flew in left, right and centre, and fittingly first blood was theirs after just two and a half minutes, Scott Matzka scoring the first goal of the weekend and putting the cat amongst the Giant pigeons.

Belfast responded, an animated Jon Pelle going agonisingly close against his former team. The miniature forward has been off the boil this season in Northern Ireland but it could not be argued that he wasn’t up for it in the first period of this game. Devils netminder Stevie Lyle was forced to make an outstanding double save and there was so much collective in-taking of breath the oxygen supply in the arena must have been running dangerously low.

The first ten minutes had everything: hits, shots, saves, handbags, it was too exciting to write notes so the intricacies will have to be left to your imagination. Or read about in someone else’s report. What I do remember was Belfast’s equaliser, coming from the stick of Jeremy Rebek on the powerplay as Cardiff were twice penalised to give the Giants the 5-on-3 opportunity, the Captain picking out his spot and shooting cleanly past Lyle.

The game became really chippy after that, Adams out to prove that he and his side were not to be taken lightly, the Devils players goading the Giants, niggling them and muscling them off of the puck, their defence and in particular the brick-hard Jamie Vanderveeken frustrating their attempts to take the lead. Sadly they couldn’t reproduce that level of quality on their powerplays, and the first period drew to a close having grown somewhat quieter, however Adam Keefe seemed to have taken the bait laid out for him by Cardiff and he could have been called for inciting as the teams left the ice. Jolly good entertainment.

The second period was a battle. Cardiff were like a pack of terriers, tenacious, determined and dogged, hassling the Giants who couldn’t come up with an incisive moment anywhere on the ice. The physicality picked up early on after a huge hit from Nick Kuiper, and Keefe, still fired up, totally ran over Mark Smith, the referees lenient, allowing the physical side of things to manifest. Both teams had breakaway efforts, the Giants from Aaron Clarke and the Devils from Jeff Pierce who was skating like a man possessed but continued to be unlucky with his final touch.

Cardiff were ramping up the pressure; they had another great chance on the powerplay which almost sneaked by Stephen Murphy, there were scrums and scrambles in front of net and another stinging shot from Jeff Pierce, until finally Cardiff took a deserved 2-1 lead through Scott Dobben. They were running the show, the Giants were devoid of ideas and seemed to be lacking in oomph (yes, that’s a technical term), Keefe one of the few really throwing himself into the game, and battling with Devils’ defenceman Mark Richardson amongst others. There was a scramble in front of Lyle’s net before a riled Ryan Crane picked up a penalty; Cardiff were well and truly under the Giants’ skin, Belfast rattled and clearly frustrated, the Devils turning the screw. They could really have done with extending their lead as the chances were Belfast would re-group and come back stronger in the third, but their last chance of the period was unsuccessful. The second period had been a story of the two British netminders, both producing great performances to keep the score delicately poised going into the third.

And so it was back to the drawing board for the Giants, who desperately tried to claw their way back into the game from the top of the third, an unsuccessful powerplay closely followed by a sustained period of pressure with shots on goal from Deniset and Pelle well dealt with by Lyle. Was the inevitable comeback on? A gift of a 5-on-3 opportunity descended into a comedy of errors, misses and fluffed shots galore, and suddenly it seemed possible – Cardiff really could win this. Belfast just couldn’t get the puck in the net. Galvanised, it was the Devils’ turn to attack and the contest moved closer to a decisive conclusion when they made it a two-goal game, young Brit Luke Piggott extending the Welsh side’s lead. The Devils just wanted it more. But there was to be a twist in the tale as the Giants sucker-punched Cardiff scoring a surprise goal against the run of play with less than five minutes remaining, Lyle caught off-guard by a well-taken Aaron Clarke effort. Game most definitely back ON.

Stevie Lyle made a clutch of breathtaking saves over the course of the next few minutes; could the Devils hold on to secure an unexpected victory? It couldn’t be argued that they didn’t deserve it. But there was heartbreak in the form of the most unlikely goal of the season, the puck creeping behind Stevie Lyle who didn’t see it. It was a fatal mistake. The puck settled itself on the line and time seemed to slow down, but from somewhere, somehow, a stick poked through to put the puck across the line, just before the net was knocked off. There was a scrum and a few punches were thrown as tensions boiled over. It was an amazing last gasp effort and unsurprising that it was scored by the surely the longest arm on the ice, one belonging to Mike Hoffman.

A ten minute period of 4-on-4 overtime ice hockey would follow. My bladder protested but there was no way I was going anywhere. Belfast began their build-up play, passing the puck around, reeling in the Devils. The tension was immense. It was all one-way traffic, the Giants finally getting their act together, and there was plenty of drama, Craig Peacock and Jamie Vanderveeken almost coming to blows, and further handbags between Rob Dowd and Vanderveeken resulting in a period of 3-on-3 hockey which frankly looked a bit silly on Nottingham’s giant ice pad.

Still Belfast could not score. The horn sounded and it came to pass that a thrilling and hard-fought contest would be decided by penalty shots. I’m not sure who was dreading them more, my bladder or Cardiff, who have been notoriously hopeless in shoot-out situations, losing in all six of their attempts this season. The death knell was sounding. Or was it? The first penalty was taken by Kenton Smith, and he scored. Every single other penalty was either saved or missed. Things went distinctly red. The Devils players went mental. They’d done it again. They would yet again contest for the play-off trophy, and there was no doubting they had earned their spot, each and every player a star on the night, although Scott Matzka, Jamie Vanderveeken and Stevie Lyle could perhaps have claimed to have been uppermost in their victory.

It was later confirmed that Darryl Lloyd was a healthy scratch and Giants fans and neutrals alike struggled to fathom the reasoning behind the decision, and wonder if the feisty forward’s inclusion could have been the difference between the two sides, as there was a certain lack of sparkle from the Giants that surely a confidence player like Lloyd could have injected. We’ll never know, and I won’t take anything away from Cardiff’s performance: they were the better side and they deserved their victory. But y’know. It’s interesting to speculate. You’ve got to do it, to accumulate, apparently. Accumulate what I’m not sure – more questions, it seems. Anyway. Chapter II is beckoning me. It will be upon you shortly.

This Was the Year That Was

Originally posted on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/ on 17th March 2012

This is the year. Four little words. A simple statement of intent, and a refrain that has been repeated all season long by players and fans of the Belfast Giants alike. The words have taken on a life of their own on Twitter, where much of the inter-team banter has been situated this season, where the hashtag #thisistheyear has followed almost any comment about the Giants’ Elite League campaign. And it all came down to one weekend. If this was the year, then last night was the night to prove it. To put their money where their mouths were. This was IT.

The Odyssey was jumping, packed out with a season high crowd of over 7,000, and I was euphorically inhaling the rarefied air up in the corporate boxes – a treat organised by our Belfast friends, and there was no better occasion to enjoy the comfort and exceptional view than this. The stage was set, the cider was cold, the Steelers were orange. We were ready for a spectacle the likes of which had never been seen before. Well, this season at least.

View from the corporate box: Because I'm worth it

The first period opened brightly, with a couple of chances either way, Stephen Murphy looking the more assured of the two netminders in the Giants goal. The Giants established their dominance fairly early on, the forwards moving together, with a real sense of urgency, and the defence mopping up everything that came their way, as per usual (did I tell you I love Tom Dignard? I love him.). The first goal came after just over five minutes, and was met with jubilation all around the arena – this crowd was ready to win the league, there was no doubt about it. When a second goal was fumbled in through a hapless Steelers defence just a few seconds later, it looked as though the writing may be on the wall.

It would be an uphill struggle for the shell-shocked Steelers for the rest of the period, swimming against the tide, the Giants exerting their authority over their opponents, the momentum and the crowd both massively in their favour. Was this over already? Sheffield could not settle, they looked uncomfortable and out of place. Actually, sod it, I’ll sum up the period in a simple sentence that will leave you thinking I’m rather immature: Belfast took a firm grip on the game early, and Sheffield lacked penetration in key areas. Yeah yeah, whatever. IT’s TRUE, OKAY?!

In all seriousness, Belfast proved themselves worthy of winning the Championship on their first period showing alone. They harassed Sheffield in defence, closing them down and not giving them an inch. It was cleanly fought, with not a single penalty, and seemed to fly by, but maybe that’s just because we were living the high life, and had a beer wench. No really, we did.

The period concluded with controversy, a perceived trip on Craig Peacock which may or may not have ended with a goal was adjudged to be a penalty shot; Rob Dowd was nominated to do the honours.

What can we say about Rob Dowd’s penalty effort. I appear to have started a new paragraph just to analyse it, but let’s be fair, it doesn’t really deserve that. It can be summed up with one word: cocky. He went far too wide, showboating and made a total mess of it; John DeCaro soaked it up with ease. It’s not the way it’s done: it could have been a deciding goal; Anyway, enough about that.

It was like a different game after that. There was suddenly a spark, the Steelers using the missed penalty to their advantage, swinging the momentum and scoring a goal to make it a one goal game, Rod Sarich laying off a lovely pass to Jeff Legue who doesn’t miss opportunities like that. Oh and then there was a disallowed goal for the Giants – apparently it was kicked in. I didn’t even see it. Hey, I’m just being honest.

Second period. It began following another mysterious Odyssey-related delay, and when it did start it started quietly. It was tactical (my code for – nothing much happened). It picked up a few minutes in, a shot each way forcing a couple of decent saves, and we got our first penalty of the game after about 26 minutes of play. Toothbrushes were brandished as the first oral hygiene powerplay took place, Don’t ask. Adam Keefe and Rod Sarich had, er, words, and an injection of fizz was just what the game needed. On the powerplay, Peacock missed a sitter one on one but it didn’t matter, just a few seconds later the Giants scored their third goal from Aaron Clarke. The Steelers would have to have a monumental effort to pull this back. There were some handbags after that involving Stephenson, Keefe, Finnerty and Walton, it was all quite exciting as passions bubbled over and it threatened to turn into a real cracker of a game. However Steelers weren’t up to to the task, they still couldn’t find an opening, and were unable to put any pressure on the rampant Giants.

The third period. It started. Quietly, again. We waited for the inevitable. Things livened up again five minutes in as Clarke had a great chance, and a minute later the killer blow was struck, Paul Deniset scoring the fourth goal which would surely see the Giants win the league for the first time since 2006. It was a shame that in a game as big as this, it couldn’t go down the to the wire, but it wasn’t to be, despite Colt King doing a sexy spinny thing which I believe may have an ice hockey term to describe it but really, it was very good, but sadly didn’t result in a goal. I needed to mention it though as it was about the best thing a Steeler did all night. Mike Ramsay had a great attempt on the turn following that, and there was a brief moment of hope amongst the orange contingent, especially as their team were on the powerplay. There was a moment when it looked as though King might punch someone but it was just wishful thinking, and the Giants executed another faultless penalty kill.

There was a 5th goal at some point. The time ticked away, the noise reached crescendo. There was hugging, shouting. On the ice helmets and gloves were thrown in unsion and players staged a sort of mass group hug thing. They had done it. The Giants had won the league. And with a British netminder too. Who’d have thunk it. There’s no doubt they deserve it, and I’ll analyse the whole thing on another occasion when the dust has settled but for now, let’s just let them have their moment. Did it make me horribly depressed, despite actually wanting them to win it? Well, yes. Nothing brings home the fact you don’t have a team more than watching another team win a championship. I actually envied the Steelers their disappointment. At least they had a team to be disappointed about, to be proud of despite the lack of success. There was champagne spraying, Mike Hoffman dancing, yet I have never felt so outside of something in sport in all my life. Nonetheless, I am thoroughly happy for the Giants – they won it fair and square.

Less of my morosity and more of the joy – good on the Giants. Sadly from a neutral point of view, which is the only one I have to speak from, it creates a bit of an oddity, a non-entity game tonight; the Giants will undoubtedly have sore heads after a night of celebrations, and the Steelers have nothing left to play for but pride. Nevertheless, I will bring you all the action as always. Join me for it, shortly. TTFN!

2 Bel-fast 2 Furious

Originally published on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/ on 21st February 2012

Bounceback-ability. A fabulous made-up word that perfectly encompasses the key personal quality my nomadic Elite League journey this season has required. If I’ve been to a poor game, I’ve philosophically put it down to bad luck and toddled along to the next one with just as much positivity as ever – this COULD be the game of the season. Why not?

Okay, a visit from Fife Flyers to the Odyssey Arena was unlikely to result in a truly magnificent spectacle. But you just never know. I was relying on the visitors to at least provide some entertainment, something which Hull had singularly failed to do the previous evening. I also hoped Belfast would grace us with a bit more of their flare and physicality rather than just grinding out an expected victory.

I was rewarded for my faith. Well, partially. It was an upbeat start to the game, the home side resplendent in pink jerseys and socks, which looked rather fetching in contrast with the blue and yellow of Fife. Gok Wan would have been thrilled. Both sides opened brightly on the ice too, and there were chances at either end, both netminders needing to be on the ball from the off. Garrett Zemlak of Fife made a couple of good stops, and was clearly on top of his game – he would have to be.

The Flyers were definitely up for this, and they were the first team to have a man advantage, which quickly increased to a two man advantage as Belfast had a second player sent to the penalty box, but they failed to capitalise on the 5 on 3 opportunity, the Giants in fact having a better chance, short-handed, as Tom Dignard robbed the puck from a Flyer to go on the counter-attack. The 5 on 3 over, and the first goal was clocked up by the Giants, Jon Pelle exiting the penalty box at top speed, stealing possession and taking the puck up the ice to score unassisted. It was only another great stop from Zemlak that stopped the Giants doubling their advantage just a few seconds later. It was easy to forget Fife were still on the powerplay, misplaced passes the main culprit as they continued to struggle even with the extra man.

By contrast, Belfast know how to make the most of their powerplays. Their second goal materialised just seconds into their first one of the night, Nick Kuiper burying a well-taken shot past Zemlak. A few minutes later, the third came, a cheeky backhand pass from Aaron Clarke finding the stick of Rob Dowd, with less than a minute remaining in the period.

It all seemed so unfair. It was a much better game than Friday’s turgid encounter with Hull; Fife were acquitting themselves very well, and my ears were alive with the sound of banging boards, as in a shocking turnaround from the day before, there was actually the odd hit or two. Heaven! Yet they were already 3-0 down and it was threatening to be a whitewash. And it got worse just a minute and a half into the second period, Craig Peacock scoring on the counter-attack. It was the same old pattern – Fife would make a mistake, which would be immediately punished by the clinical Giants. The gulf in quality was vast. Belfast are showing their colours as champions elect, punishing the mistakes of fumbling opponents rather than going out of their way to make their own chances. And it was working for them to spectacular effect. Fife weren’t ready to lay down just yet, and had a couple of chances of their own as the period progressed, but it was hard to argue that the Giants’ four goal cushion hadn’t somewhat killed the game.

Nonetheless, Fife went on the powerplay and had a couple of decent efforts, Frankie Bakrlik trying to score by skating around the goal and turning the puck in, forcing a great save from Stephen Murphy. At the other end Zemlak was busy keeping out everything being thrown at him. The game found a bit of added spark following an incident involving Giants’ James Hutchison, who went crashing into the boards after what seemed to be an accidental coming together with a Fife player, but suddenly Adam Keefe was throwing hits with added vim and vigour. Hutchinson limped out of the game and a minute or two later Keefe was snapping at the heels of Fife’s Thomas Muir, who actually went back to the bench to avoid a possible clash with the Giants tough guy. Mike Hoffman was involved in the big-hitting too, and I can’t deny that my heart was rather a-flutter. Well it was about bloody time.

The period ended after a successful Fife penalty kill and a couple of decent shots from the blueline by Tom Dignard, who was unlucky not to add his name to the scoresheet. I like Tom Dignard. I mean, I really like him. He and Nick Kuiper are in a class of their own when it comes to Elite League defensive pairings in my humble opinion, Kuiper a gritty, hard-hitting player who you would not mess with finding an interesting counterpart in Dignard’s quiet, assured presence, the two of them taking care of business with ease, and frustrating opponents all day long.

Fife’s attempts to stay in the game had succeeded in the second period in that they had at least stemmed the Giants’ flow, but the home side put paid to this early in the third period, scoring two goals in quick succession, Aaron Clarke and Captain Jeremy Rebek involved in both, and Fife rung the changes, putting in back-up netminder Blair Daly. Fife faded in the third as expected; as with Hull there was a real lack of bite to their game, they seemed afraid to hit the Giants and as such struggled to gain possession. The Giants fans were more excited about pizza than they were about the game and us neutrals were once again left feeling dejected by the predictability of it all. Notable incidents of the closing minutes included a brilliant strike from Mike Hoffman to score goal number 7, Nick Kuiper defending rather too fiercely an attempt on goal from Danny Stewart, and a Fife chance which was thwarted by a stick breaking mid-shot. It just wasn’t their day.

There was a minor twist in the tale with just 8.9 seconds remaining on the clock as Fife were awarded a penalty shot after what appeared to be a trip in front of goal. The consolation was scored by Stephen Gunn and sparked a furious reaction from Adam Keefe who seemed to be objecting to the manner in which the goal was scored. He was promptly ejected, following by his captain Jeremy Rebek, both slapped with game misconducts, only to return a few minutes later for a rather feisty round of handshakes which threatened to explode into violent reaction. It was all rather unnecessary and was quite exhilarating really. I’m easily pleased, having seen not a single fight all season. Don’t you judge me.

The post-game festivities continued with a most entertaining jersey auction, in which Nick Kuiper engaged the crowd in the style of an authentic auctioneer and despite being fond of the pink jerseys I had decided against purchasing one, although a newly developed case of itchy-head tourettes threatened to let me down at the most inopportune moments – darn involuntary hand movements. They raised a huge amount of money for a great cause, Hoffman, Keefe and Dowd’s jerseys all selling for in excess of £300. Naturally! In other news, one of the merry band of travelling Vipers had won the 50/50 so we enjoyed a post-hockey round of drinks courtesy of the Belfast Giants, which was an excellent way to round off an enjoyable weekend.

Thanks as always for reading, join me for an open and frank discussion of all things Elite League next week, at some point, when I can gather together my rather scattered thoughts into some semblance of order for you to digest. It will be the best read of your life. Or your money back, guaranteed*.

*Money back not guaranteed. But if you paid to read this, you’re doing the internet wrong.

A Glaswegian Odyssey: Part 1

Originally published on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/ on 28th January 2012

It was Friday. And according to my pre-game preamble, I had some promises to keep. I started at the very beginning. It seemed like a decent sort of a place to start. And I only went and did it: I took my seat in the Braehead Arena having consumed a single pint of cider and not a drop more. Okay, I had another one on the go. But that wasn’t the point. I needed to stay refreshed, after all. The point was, I was sober. Sober, focussed, and ready to take on the task at hand.

Braehead took on the Belfast Giants in the Friday night Elite League clash and, despite popular belief, the much-touted rivalry between the two teams took a back seat as the game started out quietly, both teams coming off the back of losses and both keen to gain the upper hand. A small contingent of Vipers fans settled down, decidedly neutral despite being camped deep in Giants territory, and I couldn’t help the niggling feeling that my game-killing curse might strike again. Surely I couldn’t be doomed to ANOTHER boring hockey match? Nevertheless it was early days, and I had a fantastic vantage point, in a vacant corner low down and left of goal, and in homage to one of my pre-game pledges, my camera was in hand and I was snapping the players doing what they do best, so I was happy enough.

However as the game worn on, and my camera battery wore off, it looked as though my curse had perhaps worn off too. Despite a somewhat muted Glaswegian crowd and a slow start, the game picked up tempo. The Giants were in the ascendancy in the first period, beginning to mount pressure on the Clan goal, the visiting side taking their chances but Clan netminder Jaakko Suomalainen proving equal to the task. As the first period drew closer to its conclusion the game gathered speed and the Giants started to stamp their authority with a number of shots on goal, the best of them a gift of a chance which fell to Aaron Clarke following a beauty of a pass from Craig Peacock, but Clarke couldn’t bury the shot and it gave the home side the incentive, and they were able to exert some pressure of their own before giving up a penalty with just a minute or so to go. The beginning of the Belfast powerplay rocked the Clan but the Finnish netminder stood firm and the first period break came around to the relief of the home fans.

In the period break an irony occurred. I was wearing a Newcastle Vipers jersey, sitting with Belfast Giants fans, in the Braehead Arena. But on the television in the period break were the only team I could really call my own these days, Watford FC, who were playing Spurs in the FA Cup 4th round. It was poignant somehow for me to witness my plucky lads fighting against the big guns, even more so with the memory of my Vipers doing the very same last season. Hmm, my eyes appear to have become somewhat misty. Let’s continue.

Into the second and the Giants finished their powerplay with a couple more chances before the game settled back into a muted rhythm. It needed a goal to spark some life into it; well, ask and you shall receive. Just over three minutes in and the Giants took the lead, scoring almost directly from the face-off. The goal just floated in from the stick of Aaron Clarke and it took both team and fans of the home side by surprise. They responded well, Stephen Murphy having to make a pouncing save from a brilliant Jade Galbraith effort, and the Clan had consecutive powerplay chances. They wound up the pressure and despite heroics from Giants defenceman Jeff Mason, throwing his body in front of the puck not once but twice, the Clan finally made the most of the man advantage, coach Drew Bannister scoring from some clever build-up play by Krestanovich and Bayrack.

Finally! A decent game! I was practically salivating. The Giants came straight back on the attack, and the game became more physical, Nick Kuiper throwing a couple of big hits and Adam Keefe bearing down on his opponents in typical style. The Clan were up to the challenge, Bruce and McPherson showing their strength, and the hard-hitting we had expected started to make an appearance. As the minutes ticked away the pace picked up again, Suomalainen making another couple of important stops, and the Clan had another powerplay following a slash from Ryan Crane, the best chance of it coming from a well-worked pass from Mike Wirll to Brock McPherson, forcing a good save from Murphy.

We went into the third with a tied game and it seemed inevitable that it would revert to the slow, cagey style in which the game had started out, neither side wanting to give anything away. It seemed for a time as though perhaps the home side might have the advantage as the Giants started to make mistakes, and they were able to capitalise, a great pass from Mike Bayrack to Tim Wedderburn setting up Mike Wirll to make the shot and giving the Clan fans something to really shout about. Would that be the end of the visitors’ hopes?

Apparently not. In a game with more swings and roundabouts than an adventure playground the advantage shifted again, the Giants needing less than three minutes to level the scores, another goal seemingly from out of nowhere, returning Giant Paul Deniset finishing the chance. Now it looked like it was the Giants’ game to lose, and they could have extended their lead with a wraparound chance from Aaron Clarke followed shortly after by a stinging shot from Keefe, but the netminder stood up to it. The Giants had a new found swagger and Clan fans couldn’t watch as they turned the screw. Even I was on the edge of my seat and I didn’t mind who won; it was the most nail-biting encounter I’ve seen as a neutral and I was LOVING it. The Giants continued to press, the busy Aaron Clarke with another shot which made it past Suomalainen, but only as far as Drew Bannister who coolly swept the puck from the crease – the Giants fans roared with frustration; the Clan fans breathed again. Rob Dowd put one over which clanged into the plexi glass right in front of us. I didn’t even flinch. I’m well ‘ard, innit.

The Clan were defending for their lives and it was working, it gave them the confidence to mount one last attack on the Giants goal, Galbraith with a great effort with just 30 seconds left on the clock, and a second shot with just 11 seconds to go, I’ve no idea who that was, I was far too excited! Every Clan fan was on their feet – had it gone in? NO! Stephen Murphy stood on his head to keep it out and was the hero of the dying seconds. The hooter sounded. I remembered to breathe. I didn’t even realise I’d been holding my breath.

Overtime! It was only my second experience of it in a live environment. And wow, are those bad boys fun! Hell for leather, no holds barred, all or nothing, end to end. Shot after shot, probably about three penalties that would have been called in regulation time, even the referees seemed to be having a ball, my heart rate was through the roof, I remembered why I once felt as though hockey was damaging to one’s health. It was an intense five minutes but neither team could find an opening and so the deadlock remained, and into the shootout we went.

It was my second ever overtime experience, but my first ever shootout, and I was as giddy as a schoolgirl. I’m not going to go into a great deal of detail because, well, penalties are penalties, but suffice to say it was captivating, and it took ten attempts before the result was decided. There were four misses in the first round of shots. Craig Peacock netted first, followed by Jordan Krestanovich, looking every inch the class act. Then Jeff Mason, scored. Jade Galbraith took an AGE over his second, keeping us all in suspense before finally scoring. Rob Dowd was as cool as a cucumber taking his second shot. But the otherwise excellent Mike Wirll for the home side had his shot saved, and it was all over. My heart was in my mouth. And it wasn’t even because of the random group of men without their tops on who started jumping up and down at the end.

So, what of my promises? Stayed sober? Check. Took notes? Check. Took some decent photos? Check. Didn’t dance during every stoppage? Er, almost. Squad numbers? Easy. Facts? All day long, baby. Beards? My lips are sealed. Oh, and, er, there was the small matter of my pre-match prediction. Read it and weep people, read it and weep. Actually, I almost did when I saw it coming to pass in front of my own eyes. Damn my amazing prediction skills and damn my not having put any money on them!!

I could go on about that game all day. In reality, it was a decent game, perhaps not a classic, but by heck how I needed that. It was fast, furious, good clean fun, hard fought from both sides, I couldn’t even pick out a man of the match for either side, although the both defences were excellent, Tom Dignard mopping up everything that came his way for the Giants and Jeff Mason as strong in attack as some of the forwards. For the Clan Tim Wedderburn and Jim Jorgensen both stood out, and both netminders had strong games, but in truth, everyone looked good to me. I may not have a team to support anymore, but I’m sure as hell still biased. Towards hockey. I bloody love it.

Coming to a rink near you… The Game-Killer (or, why I’m unintentionally ruining hockey).

Originally published on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/ on 16th January 2012

I wrote in a recent post that the Elite League is providing some of the best entertainment in UK sport. And I still maintain that view; take for example the 13 goal Edinburgh v Hull thriller in December. Or the Challenge Cup semi-final this Saturday in Braehead, where the Clan won against the Panthers, the Glasgwegian side heroically hanging onto a slender one goal lead to beat the current cup holders.

Unpredictable, exciting, can’t-tear-your- eyes-away entertainment. That’s how I sell it to my non hockey-loving friends. And it really can be. Just… Not when I’m there. I can’t deny it any longer: sorry Elite League clubs, but I’m clearly bad for business.

I was cautiously optimistic as I journeyed south for my first ever trip to the Motorpoint Arena in Sheffield, as they took on Dundee in their only game of the weekend, odd scheduling bearing in mind the number of games they still have in hand. So the Steelers were likely to be fresh and ready to take on the world. Dundee were a team I’d seen early in the season when in all honesty they’d looked a bit clueless, but since then they’ve had a coaching change, brought in a couple of new players and pieced together some decent performances, scoring plenty of goals against big teams along the way, so there was no reason why it shouldn’t have been a competitive match-up.

First impressions of Sheffield? Well, I liked the nice shiny white ice and the general orange-ness of the tango’ed Steelers fans, and I felt excited, nay, privileged, to hear the dulcet tones of the one and only Simmsey doing the announcing. In less salubrious news, and in a slamming indictment of the intelligence of Yorkshire-based dancing girls, the cheerleader who was positioned behind us leant over and asked me where Dundee was. I gave her a fairly specific answer. She returned to her friend, also a cheerleader, clearly a party to the very same geography-based quandary, and summarised helpfully, ‘Scotland’. Excellent. I should have gone home then as that was the highlight of my evening.

And so to the game. It’s a funny thing being a neutral in a sport that you love so much. I wouldn’t be able to do it in football; it’s losing its appeal for me enough already without throwing forced impartiality into the mix. But I would happily take in any Elite League game for the sheer love of it. And here begins the problem. If it’s a cracking game, as previously discussed, you’re sorted. If it’s a bit, well, crap, and you don’t even have the ‘they’re my team and I love them no matter what’ factor to get you through it, it’s a poor state of affairs. If you can’t while away the interminable minutes feeling disproportionately proud of player X’s beautiful skating, or calculating the precise dimensions of any given beard, it somewhat takes the edge off the whole experience. And this game was a bit, well, crap.

It just never really got off the ground. It was stunningly low on penalties which, whilst probably being ideal for the purist, doesn’t make for much of a spectacle for the neutral. The first period ebbed away at quite a lick, vast swathes of time passing between whistles, yet nothing really occurring during these long tranches of play. When Dundee took their first penalty and Sheffield had a powerplay things picked up briefly, and it seemed inevitable the home side would score, Colt ‘the immovable object’ King proving strong as usual in front of goal, tipping in a pass from Jeff Legue to break the deadlock. I wish I could say that lots more exciting things happened in the first period, but to be honest, I’d be telling a lie.

The second period had barely started when Luke Fulghum scored the Steelers’ second. I was standing in the queue for hotdogs in fact. But you could sense even from outside at the concession stand that despite the amount of time remaining on the clock, the game was done and dusted. There was a moment of tension between Dundee’s Brennan Turner and Colt King when my heartrate may have quickened just a shade, but the former appeared to shy away from dropping the gloves with King. Wise? Probably. Boring? Definitely. Filing my nails? I will be next time.

Dundee didn’t have a lot of fight in any area of the ice really, they seemed to be going through the motions, content to take an expected defeat perhaps, and unwilling to risk going all out? They certainly lacked potency. Think of the NEUTRALS Dundee, the NEUTRALS!! And all two of your away fans!! In fairness to the visiting side, they dearly missed sparky goalscorer Jarrett Konkle, sidelined with an injury, and despite attempts by handy-looking new signing Mark Kolanos to liven things up, there was nothing doing. I’d been excited to see the Steelers live having viewed them twice on Sky Sports, but as they never really needed to up the ante, I don’t feel as though I saw the best of them. Bottoms. Is exactly what I said.

I wondered: did everyone just have somewhere else better to be? You could almost see the referees checking their watches. Dundee clearly hadn’t come with any notion of winning and the game sped by and clocked in well under two hours; Dundee were merrily on their way home, the Steelers left the building in carefully chosen disguises, and we stood patiently in the stands wondering if a hockey game would start anytime soon. We could easily have fit another one into our evening what with the early face-off time. It might have been a good one, too.

Oh, Luke Fulghum scored another goal. And Dundee netminder Chris Whitley had a decent game too. Unsurprisingly, they both won man of the match for their respective sides. No-one else had done a lot really, so it seemed fair enough, It finished 3-1. Will that do?

Not content with my own weekend’s hockey experience I’ll bring you news of some of the interesting happenings around the league. Starting with the Cardiff Devils, who went on a three game trip to Scotland and came back with all six points, pulling off some gutsy performances despite still missing key players and delighting the army of fans that travelled north of the border. Most notable in their three game weekend was the win over Fife which was a feisty encounter containing three 10 minute misconduct penalties and a game penalty for Chris Frank who personally amassed another 36 penalty minutes across the weekend as a whole. The guy definitely has to be on a bet, right? If he is, he’s winning.

Coventry travelled to Belfast for a double header in which they lost both matches, but provided some great entertainment along the way in what sounded like two very even contests. During the second game there was a heart-warming incident in which Adam Keefe lovingly undressed Brian Jurynec; unfortunately for Jurynec, Keefe’s favourite way to express his love for a fellow professional is with his fists. This exchanging of mutual affection resulted in a cracking fight and proves what a great entertainer Keefe is and that Jurynec too is game to take on anyone. Fun stuff.

Last but by no means least, Braehead saw their biggest ever crowd in attendance for the first leg of their Challenge Cup semi-final against the Nottingham Panthers, and the game proved a brilliant choice for any new visitors to Braehead as the Clan battled to take the win. Sadly they couldn’t keep the level up the following day in Nottingham and the Panthers were the first side to qualify for the final. Their opponents will be either Cardiff or Belfast. Braehead are proving to be a strong, cohesive and talented side this season and I am excited to see them during my next away trip, in two weeks time. At least, I would have been excited. But as has now been proven, the mere fact of my presence will render both games completely flaccid and impotent wastes of time. Sorry Clan fans. I strongly advise you to develop a sudden desire to attend an intensive flower-arranging course that weekend. It’s for your own good.

Eat, Sleep, Dream, Repeat

Writing regularly about something you love comes relatively easy when you’re exposed to that thing on a weekly basis. But without a team to call my own this season, inspiration was, until recently, rather harder to come by. I still begin each new week wondering what I can possibly find to talk about that would be of interest to anybody. When you’re writing about your own team it’s easy. You’ve got a ready made group of people on exactly the same wavelength as you who will happily read the rubbish that you write. But what’s actually the point of me now? All this blog consists of, really, is a vague re-telling of the week’s events in hockeyland. With extra beards.

Why then do I persist? And how am I finding so much to write about now? I come to my computer this morning full of the events of the weekend, ready to spill my guts onto the screen. Because in reality, I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. When you’re gathered in the stands of your home ice rink, or in the bar after the game, it’s all too easy to chew over the happenings in the league. Maybe that’s why I’ve come to rely on this blog. It’s the only place I can vent my excitement about hockey that will listen. It doesn’t have a choice, frankly. I could be talking to myself but I’ll pretend that’s not the case and go merrily about my business.

The best way to describe the way this season feels for me is to take you back to that time when you were 16 and the party of the year was happening but you couldn’t go because your parents were forcing you to attend your Great Aunt Mabel’s 80th birthday tea instead. It happened to all of us, at one point or another. That aching, desperate, stroppy teenage feeling that because YOU’RE not there, it simply must be the most AMAZING party EVER and you’re the only one in the whole WORLD missing out. That. Except twice a week, every week. Everybody’s talking. But I’m not involved in any of the conversations.

And I’ve started yearning again. I yearn a lot these days. It gets quite tiring. I find myself yearning for things I never would have been interested in when I had a team of my own. Why do I want to go to watch the Steelers’ trip to Denmark for the Continental Cup? (Well, probably because of the beer). Why do I feel the urge to go to Braehead to see the results of the Movember competition? (Well, probably because I like facial hair). In all seriousness though, being team-less but still loving the Elite League, I feel as though there’s a little bit of me in all the teams. So I’m basically missing out on 10 team’s worth of fun. And it’s simply not acceptable.

And what fun I missed out on this weekend. This weekend proved what an exciting and entertaining league the Elite League can be. It was a barnstormer. Let’s have a look at what happened.

Coventry Blaze

It’s been a rollercoaster in Coventry these past seven days. Blaze fans were left reeling earlier in the week after the sudden and unexpected loss of Luke Fulghum. Rumours abounded, all seemed unfounded, Sheffield had him surrounded, and snapped him up less than 24 hours after his contract with the Blaze was terminated, Ryan Finnerty like a kid at Christmas with his new signing (also did you like my poetry there? I might try and throw down a few more rhymes in today’s blog). Unrest in the Blaze camp perhaps? You wouldn’t have known it on Saturday night as they soundly beat Dundee at the Skydome; seemingly galvanised they came out as a unit, putting in a great team performance and scoring seven along the way including a brace for rapidly improving Brit Robert Farmer.

Things were not so easy the following night as they travelled to Edinburgh and were given a tough test by Richard Hartmann’s men, who are giving a really good account of themselves this season and are surprising many with their tenacity and goal-scoring abilities. The game at Murrayfield was tied 2-2 at full time, Coventry winning the shoot-out to take the extra point and make it a four-point weekend. Sadly things seem tougher off-ice for the Blaze; they launched a desperate bums-on-seats appeal on Monday morning; echoes of the Vipers’ troubles of last season a grim reminder of the realities in this sport, but here’s hoping the fans answer the call and avert any possible financial crisis. It’s time yet again for everyone involved in the league to pull together.

Dundee Stars had a shocker of a weekend, losing three games in as many days, the third to Nottingham Panthers in a close-run encounter where the Stars did well to score four but were edged out by the home side in their only game of the weekend, which incidentally was watched by the UK’s newest hockey fan, Nottingham-based England cricketer Stuart Broad. Good for publicity? I’ll say. Do I hear 219,000 odd Twitter followers? I do believe I do.

In the remaining two Saturday games, Braehead beat Edinburgh and kept a clean sheet in the process, and Sheffield fought their way past a seemingly rejuvenated Cardiff side to win 4-2 despite being outshot by the visitors 50-30, an impressive performance from netminder John DeCaro the difference between the two sides in the end.

Belfast Giants

In a classic case of fortuitous timing Belfast bounced back from the loss of Benoit Doucet with the return of super-speedy forward Brock McBride who had been out of action for some time with a lower body injury. He marked his return with two goals and in a chippy contest at the Odyssey on Saturday Belfast topped Hull 5 to 1. The Giants followed this up with a trip to the Big Blue Tent on Sunday and in yet another extremely chippy game, they took the points once again despite a number of notable incidents in which they made few friends among the Cardiff Devils fans, playing their pantomime villain roles with aplomb, and causing an outbreak of major internet drama after the game as accusations flew about cheap shots, class, and who really is the boss of British Hockey.

Keefe-watch (Because he’s worth it).

Speaking of chippy, and of bosses, the Boss of Belfast made his mark on the Elite League penalty minute standings on Saturday fighting veteran enforcer Derek Campbell not once but twice, felling him with a single punch on both occasions and picking up 22 of the little buggers along the way (penalty minutes that is. Not punches). Presumably Campbell didn’t hear what Mr Keefe said the first time, so he went back for seconds. Unwise, even for him. AK47 faced a sterner test on Sunday when he finally squared up against Brad Voth, who he’s been gunning for for some time. He didn’t fare well, the height difference causing him a few issues, and the elder statesman took the win. Keefe wanted a re-match but it was not to be. One for the future, perhaps. Still, a strong weekend from the Giants tough guy, who seems to have become the Devils’ love-to-hate player du jour. To the neutral however he’s a great character to have in the league and I for one am loving his antics. More please!

The drama was not limited to Cardiff on Sunday, as all five games were thrillers, Fife Flyers nearly throwing away a three-goal lead against the Braehead Clan but just hanging on for a precious two points, and Hull holding Sheffield to a 2-2 scoreline on their home ice, before Mike Ramsay delivered the killer blow in overtime to take the extra point back to Sheffield. Next week’s Elite League highlights show will be truly unmissable.

Twitter Latest

Adam Keefe called all Cardiff Devils fans mutants. The guy really does have balls. I’ve seen the Welsh angry and I wouldn’t mess. Jon Pelle received a death threat (see my point?). World War III broke out between Devils and Giants fans. Things were taken too seriously. The Steelers marvelled at their own moustaches in between making even less sense than last week. Many hockey players Tweeted about the progress of their various journeys. And that was about it, really. More next week!

So anyway, back to me. The title of today’s post says it all. I really have been living and breathing hockey these last few weeks; at least, as much as anyone without a team can. To the point where I had a dream about going grocery shopping with members of the Giants and Steelers teams. I remember discussing grapes with Nick Kuiper. I wish I was making this up. I’m honestly not. I’m so ensconced in all things hockey that I go funny at the merest mention of ice. There was an ice rink in an episode of Dexter the other night and I came over all excited. You should have seen me watching Frozen Planet. A mess, I was. This Friday sees the season’s first live televised Elite League match on Sky Sports. I imagine someone will need to be on hand with a mop in Shark Club, Newcastle, where we plan to watch it. It could be messy.

Anyway! Enough of that nonsense. I will to return to you shortly to write a bit about the ups and downs of my NHL team, the Calgary Flames. Thankfully, there have been some ups this week. Ups are nice. I suppose that’s the one good thing about not having the Vipers anymore. I don’t have to worry about winning. Or a lack thereof. I can watch in glorious technicolored neutrality, and observe the pain and the glory of the other ten teams with cool, calculating ambivalence, and not really mind who wins the league. Well, almost. Anyone but Panthers, eh.

The Tweet Generation

The Week in Review

It’s me again! And I’d like to think that given the number of times I've flapped my lips on this here blog, you, my lovely readers, must have gotten to know to know me. I’m a girl of simple pleasures, let’s face it. I love fights, beards, and players named after weaponry. And man, can I talk. I’ve not even seen any hockey this week and I’ve still got plenty to tell you. So let’s settle down and have a chinwag, shall we.

Without a live match for my poor, hockey-starved mind to devour, my thoughts turned to matters off-ice this week. And I’ll get to those in good time. But let’s start with some of the talking points from this week’s Elite League action. There was a thriller at the Odyssey as Braehead travelled to take on Belfast, and in an overly physical game there was yet more frustration for fight fans, as in the first meeting between Sam Zajac and Benoit Doucet since ‘that’ check which left Zajac sidelined with concussion, the gloves were dropped but the fight was unable to take place due to some over-enthusiastic officiating. A poor decision in my opinion and potentially a dangerous one: the guys clearly needed to air their grievances but were unable to do so; frustrations could have easily boiled over leading to more unsavoury outcomes being played out. In short, let them go*. If this wasn’t enough Adam Keefe tried to start a fight with half the Braehead team but no-one was game. ‘A’ for effort, lad. Belfast took the game by the horns with just three minutes to spare and continue to look dominant.

Coventry had a hairy bus ride home from Dundee after shutting out the home side and taking the two points back to the West Midlands. Thankfully they made it home safely despite the bus nearly being blown over. In other, more dramatic, and less hairy news, there were some sad losses in the world of British ice hockey as Matthew Myers (Nottingham Panthers) severed his enviable tresses and Chris Zarb (Dundee Stars) shaved off his frankly incredible beard. I’m still reeling from the shock of those unwelcome discoveries. Absent from the weekend’s action were the Sheffield Steelers who were all busy joining Twitter. Oh, and playing the occasional game of hockey in Denmark during their spare moments. They didn’t fare well in the Intercontinental Cup, despite a promising start, and were subject to some seemingly over-sensitive refereeing. Apparently the Europeans don’t do physical ice hockey. Whereas we like a good bashing here in the UK. On a positive note, their entire squad are now on Twitter, so the trip to Denmark wasn’t a total waste of time.

On Sunday, only one ice hockey team turned up in the first period for the dead rubber Challenge Cup tie at Skydome Arena, and as the only team there, the Blaze found it relatively easy to take a 5-0 lead. In the second period only one ice hockey team turned up too – this time however it was Nottingham Panthers, who proceeded to score 5 goals of their own to level the scores. I’m led to believe that both teams were present in the final period. The score was nonetheless tied.

The Tweet Generation

So that’s the hockey dealt with. Now onto my ponderings from the week. I hardly need to point out that as a fan of ice hockey, if you have any interest in the deep and meaningful thoughts that travel through the grey matter of the players you watch and admire, accessing said thoughts is not as difficult (or stalkerish), as it may once have been. No longer do you need to creep around behind them on the street trying to listen in to their private telephone conversations (I’ve not done that, by the way). Never again do you need to pen a desperate fan letter, asking them what their favourite colour is, or if they could be any superhero who would they be (I haven’t done that either. That I can recall). Instead, using the various social media that’s available, Robert is in fact your mother’s brother: instant access to a wealth of richness and diversity, courtesy of the collective brains of your favourite team(s).

By its very nature Twitter is a voyeuristic medium. It allows you to read for yourself whatever little nuggets of wisdom anyone you happen to be intrigued by is sharing with the world at any given moment. For some this amounts to reams of material daily, for others just the choicest morsels will be drip-fed to the starving masses, to satisfy the aching chasm deep inside that could only possibly be filled by the knowledge that their favourite Canadian defenceman is going to the bowling alley for the afternoon. It’s different to Facebook. Facebook is for friends, and family. Twitter is the social network of strangers. You are safe, hidden behind your maximum 15-character username, to follow the people whom you choose to follow without fear of retribution. You never have to talk back. You can read a full conversation between team mates about where to meet for coffee without having to get involved. But – you know they’re meeting for coffee. And that’s something you didn’t know before. Stalkers 1, Privacy 0!

Of course it’s hardly a place to reveal your innermost secrets if you don’t want anyone else to know about them, but there’s just something about Twitter. That sense that maybe, probably, no-one’s really listening (reading) tempts you into giving up just a little more information than you would if you were speaking to a group of people you barely knew in person. It’s the genuine candour adopted by sportsmen, celebrities and the like that makes following them on Twitter so appealing. That sense that you’re catching a glimpse into their everyday lives. Twitter obviously feeds one’s propensity to stalkerishness; but at least I’m not afraid to admit it!

Anyway I promised myself this wouldn’t descend (ascend?!) into a ponderous philosophical commentary on the vicarious nature of social media, so let’s cut to the chase. Ice hockey players: they really do love Twitter, don’t they? And while I concede that a lot of what they dribble on about is no more interesting than any of the rest of the inanity spouted by your average Twitter user, they do make for an entertaining follow. To support this week’s column and to find out just how many of them frequent the site, I set about compiling a Twitter list of EIHL players (available now for any user to follow – @ktdude/eihl-ice-hockey-players). I basically adopted the role of electronic shepherd, herding the lovely big lugs together in one easy to manage pen – and I am surprised to tell you that it contains just shy of 100 of the hairy creatures already. Basically half of the possible number of players contained in the league right now. Surprised? I was.

The variety of fripperies they supply is astounding; I have in recent weeks given Sam Zajac directions, asked Danny Meyers a question about his sideburns (he grows them because otherwise he’d look really young), seen pictures of the Belfast Giants’ Halloween party, viewed a wide selection of Movember moustaches, and discovered that Jeff Pierce really loves his own hair. They aren’t shy about voicing their opinions on games, either. It’s a whole added dimension to the dynamics that already exist between players, teams, coaches, managers, referees, fans, commentators and everyone else involved in our beautiful game. The NHL have banned the use of Twitter on game days. I don’t think the Elite League would ever have the faintest notion of doing similar and I for one hope it stays that way.

And viewing them all together in one list is priceless. It’s taking on a life of its own. Sheffield Steelers used their trip to Denmark as an opportunity to ensure that every single squad member was signed up and the resultant (presumably drunken – I’m allowed to say that, right?) nonsense has been quite amusing if not somewhat baffling to follow. It’s interesting what they choose to say, and not to say. For the most part they seem content to share a great deal – to the extent of possibly having boundary issues. Of course the majority of it is ‘in’ jokes and banter between teammates, but there is some genuinely fun content if you can get through this. My top 3 suggestions of players to follow:

1) Adam Keefe – self-appointed spokesperson for the Belfast Giants this season, Keefe has not wasted any time in throwing himself into life in Northern Ireland, and the Elite League in general. He Tweets regularly, but there’s plenty of substance in there, and he’s not afraid to bite back if someone tries to wind him up. He also made me come over all unnecessary following recent comments about his moustache. Top bloke.

2) Danny Meyers – speaking of top blokes, the Nottingham Panthers captain has surely got to be up there with the best of them. One of my first hockey player follows, Danny is just an all round good egg and is the perfect spokesmodel for Great British hockey. He loves his wife and kids, he enjoys a bit of banter with Simmsey, and he is happy to answer questions once in a while, even the more bizarre ones about sideburns!

3) Ryan Finnerty – Finner16 is a sound dude with a wry sense of humour and although he displays the restraint that a good leader should, he’s not afraid to engage in the banter and is clearly well-liked throughout the game and not just by his own team, or fans.

So to conclude: if you actually care about what goes on between the ears of your favourite hockey players, follow my list. If you don’t really care, follow it anyway, purely for the amusement factor. If you’re not even on Twitter, check it out. It’s ridiculously addictive. And a few weeks down the line, you’ll wonder how you lived without knowing about Jade Galbraith’s trip to the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet.

*STOP PRESS: The fallout from the Zajac/Doucet non-fight is more serious than first thought. Doucet is out for the season, due to a freak accident which occurred when he was wrestled to the ice by the linesmen who landed on him causing his knee to twist the wrong way. A sickening injury, which is a massive blow to the Giants and more so to the player himself. A great shame. My initial thoughts on the way the matter was handled were followed by a lengthy debate and some further hockey schooling and as a result I’m going to hop back up onto the fence on the matter, claiming ‘noobishness’ as my excuse for not being more outspoken. That is all.

What Katy Did Next...

Originally published on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/

As a wise man once said (was it Michael Fish?), it never rains, but it pours. Words. From my brain. Yes, after what could be called a bit of a dry patch, my engine has been fuelled with sub-standard hockey and my thirst to spill forth on further hockey-related shenanigans can barely be contained. As such, I decided to take in a live hockey match from the comfort of my very own living room this weekend. Without a team of my own this season what is the point of me if it’s not to stick my nose into other people’s teams’ business and give my tuppence worth, as self-appointed Elite League blogger without portfolio, so to speak. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me! Ha!

For my viewing pleasure this Sunday then, a clash between Coventry Blaze and Cardiff Devils. The weekend had been for me, rather a pleasant one. I had been wallowing in hockey like a happy little piglet in puddles of lovely lovely muck. I thrashed about in it and splashed my piggy toes until I could splash no more, maximising use of the most excellent NHL Gamecenter to watch my Calgary Flames beat the Chicago Blackhawks convincingly, and then watching Edmonton’s incredible youngsters do the same, even more convincingly. Anyone would think I had something against Chicago (I really don’t).

I followed the updates from around the Elite League on Saturday night with interest. Most interesting of all a somewhat topsy-turvy sounding game in Glasgow, where Sheffield Steelers travelled to take on Braehead Clan, the resultant controversy-fest leaving many Clan fans with a bad taste in their mouth as they suffered a number of seemingly contentious decisions against their side, although the main victim on the face of it (no pun intended. Well, maybe a bit) was Steelers alpha male Colt King, who took a questionable hit to the head from Kyle Bruce and was left bleeding and it could be said, less than impressed. The fallout from that one will be one for the violence voyeurs among us (okay, I mean me) and I fear for Bruce who, although tough, has potentially antagonised one of worthiest adversaries in all of Britain-dom in King, who let’s face it, is the only person I’ve seen who’s managed to take out the Panthers’ imperious hard-man Guillaume Lepine. And by take out I mean, completely demolish a man who was unbeaten in his previous 18 fights in this league. Yup. It’s akin to prodding a large bear, repeatedly, with a pointed stick. Inadvisable, foolish, and ultimately likely to land you in hospital.

I’ve developed quite a fascination with the tough guys in the league this season and couldn’t help but notice (as I’m sure everyone else already had) that arguably the two top dogs have cunning gun references in their name/number combinations, Colt King sporting number 45 (self-explanatory) and Adam Keefe’s number 47 lending itself to the clever nickname AK47. It remains to be seen if these two will have a shot at each other (oh dear, somebody lock me up) but doubtless the resultant gunfight will be one to fetch the popcorn for.

Anyway, I digress! (It’s my raison d’etre). The Elite League game may not have promised quite as much in terms of quality as my NHL televisual encounters but it was an interesting prospect for me. It featured a team fresh in my mind from my weekend in Belfast, and one who I had yet to see in action this season in the Blaze. These are likely to be the main two sides who will be contending fourth place in the league, assuming none of the top three suffer a spectacular implosion (stranger things have happened), and none of the Scottish sides has a barn-storming run (again, not outside the realms of possibility – Braehead have proved a force to be reckoned with at times this season, and even Edinburgh have pulled their socks up in no uncertain terms).

Coventry v Cardiff was a home and away double header, with the first game at the big Blue Tent the previous night going the Devils’ way in fairly convincing fashion, hard fought as it was, with a couple of violent incidents and a general niggly feeling between the two teams proliferating. Would the atmosphere have festered overnight or would it be a brand new day between the Welsh side and their closest rivals in the league – in more ways than one.

And so it would seem in my roundabout way of introducing this week’s match report, I’ve come a digression too far, and I need to break for lunch. Or some other relevant drink and/or meal. And I’m sure you do too. We’ve got a whole match report ahead of us, don’t forget. Join me in part 2 of this week’s column to hear my take on the action.

So there I was on my sofa, laptop at the ready, dressing gown and comfy pants donned (no word of a lie), tuned into Blaze TV for my first experience of live Elite League hockey, via the interweb (If you’re already confused, please refer to part 1 of this week’s column to discover how we got here!). Aside from the commentary, which was a shade Brummier than that on NHL Gamecenter, you could barely tell the difference. OK, I’m being generous – the picture quality wasn’t brilliant. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to spot the players’ numbers let alone their faces, but the banter was jolly, as the commentators encouraged listeners to participate in Farmer bingo – basically a guessing game as to which three opposing players would punch or otherwise lay out Blaze’s Robert Farmer first. Great fun. Sadly the answer was no-one but still.

As for my allegiances, I felt pretty neutral, a state that’s both unfamiliar and disconcerting for me. Perhaps I was slightly favouring the Devils purely from a familiarity point of view, but from a journalistic perspective, I would attempt to perch firmly on the fence.

The game started evenly and I put my feet up and made myself comfortable. I could get used to this. Just under five minutes in the deadlock was broken, Max Birbraer taking a fantastic pass from Mark Richardson on the Blaze blue line to score a calmly taken goal. It was just the kick start the game needed and from there it livened right up, and even got a bit feisty, the Blaze laying on some decent hits, Brian Jurynec and Mike McLean in particularly gung-ho form. However they were erratic and gave up a couple of penalties, giving the Devils further powerplay opportunities, and even at full strength Blaze seemed somewhat devoid of ideas. Finally 11 minutes in it was their turn on the powerplay, forwards Shea Guthrie and Matic Kralj combining well to put sustained pressure on the Devils goal and force a good save from Lyle. This was swiftly followed by a period of 5 on 3 for Blaze but still they couldn’t find the back of the net, the Devils penalty kill unit strong once again despite their lack of import Defencemen (having lost Chris Frank to a suspension) and some nice Blaze build-up play was all well and good but lacked end product.

The game ebbed and flowed, the Devils once again finding themselves with the man advantage and a nicely worked chance for Jeff Pierce skimming just wide of the mark, before a second goal came courtesy of the stick of Scott Matzka. The Devils looked in control, assured, and much more like the team they were last season, perfectly capable of taking on and beating the big boys. Blaze had their moments but were unable to achieve any consistency; their forward lines look quick and their defencemen feisty but their shooting was weak and more significantly, rare.

The Welsh side’s dominance continued early in the second period, their systems coming together beautifully, some lovely passing resulting in a goal for Phil Hill in the third minute. Then I had a nice chat with my parents on the phone about their holiday in South Africa from which they had just returned… Ah, the perils of watching hockey at home! (The weather was disappointing but they had a lot of nice wine). Meanwhile back at the ranch (or even the SkyDome) Blaze were attempting to get back into the game, Greg Owen forcing another great save from Lyle. But there seemed to be no stemming the Devils’ flow, the 4thgoal an outstanding effort from Stu Macrae, carving through the Blaze defence; it was all looking too easy.

Paul Thompson called a time out and presumably shared a selection of choice vocabulary with his flailing side, and it clearly did the trick as a period of desperate attacking was to follow from the frustrated home side, who were feeling the pressure from the stands. Poor old Bradley took a bit of pasting, taking several hits in quick succession from Luke Fulghum and Mike McLean, a repeat effort from McLean moments later almost knocking the giant from his feet. He took it all in his stride as he so often does these days, and I believe the travelling Cardiff fans removed a large amount of footwear in tribute.

The tide had turned, and Blaze finally got off the mark via an Owen Fussey individual effort, taking a pass from Shea Guthrie and going one-on-one with Stevie Lyle, almost leaving it too late, Blaze hearts in mouths no doubt before he buried it. The home side’s tally was doubled just seconds later through Dustin Wood, and they turned the tables on the Devils, piling on wave after wave of pressure. The visiting side started to look nervous, a 180° flip from their earlier impressive display. The tempo of the game was turned up to 11, frenetic attacking and a Blaze powerplay followed by a gilt-edged opportunity to bring the game within one goal when Scott Matzka gave up a careless penalty and they went 5 on 3.

I opened an organic strawberry beer. Perks of the job, you know. They finally scored the pressure goal from a Guthrie long shot, the second period proving to be almost a mirror image of the first. Then Brian Jurynec punched Matzka in the back of the head and took a penalty. Cardiff retaliated with some accidental high sticks in McLean’s face followed by Jurynec possibly taking an elbow right at the end of the period – Blaze faces seemed to suffer for their art that night.

I can’t let this report go by without a comment on the period break entertainment – Blaze had their announcer singing live with a boy band! I was stunned. I thought perhaps they might be famous, because I don’t know much about boy bands. Testament to their ability, clearly! The Devils fans seemed to be enjoying themselves with one bloke getting up to strut his funky stuff, presumably unaware there was a camera pointing right at him. Great stuff. I hoped the cameraman would take it upon himself to fiddle with his brightness settings as the glare from the ice was hurting my brain a bit and I was almost forced to watch through sunglasses. Luckily, he did.

The 3rd period began amid a flurry of Tivo’ing (The Cube is far too good to be missed, you know!) and a second round of alcoholic beverages. The commentary team engaged in a thought-provoking discussion about Thommo possibly drugging Blaze players (scandal), the relative merits, or lack thereof, of Hitler moustaches, and what to do when a person cannot grow a moustache at all during Movember (Novembeards: note, I heartily approve). Despite the game hanging on the slimmest of margins, it was a quiet start to the third period. Cardiff went on the powerplay again but Blaze managed a better penalty kill to prevent their rivals scoring. There was a brilliant attempt on goal by Fulghum from Guthrie. Then a fabulous 5th for Devils, Voth taking a cool tap-in from Scott Dobben, covering well in defence.

Then it went a bit flat, and I was presented with my dinner. It was fajitas. They were a bit messy so couldn’t type as much. Er, sorry about that. Then it was nearly the end of the game and Blaze fans held their breath as Greg Owen scored a 4th for them with a minute to go, after they pulled their netminder. In return, Max Birbraer missed an empty net, a shocking yet hilarious miss which will no doubt have haunted him for at least 20 minutes. Really though, it was tense. With just 3 seconds to go the Blaze had a face-off in Cardiff’s zone and it was down to one last shot from Owen Fussey, whose stick proceeded to break with a mere second to go. It pretty much summed up the Blaze’s night.

So to conclude, I rather enjoyed my first living room Elite League viewing experience. I didn’t stick around long enough to catch the Men of the Match as I had X Factor results to catch up on (priorities and all that) but for me, the Devils had a number of strong performances, surely one of their defencemen would have to take it as they performed admirably despite being short-handed. For the Blaze I was massively impressed with Shea Guthrie, his speed and movement on the puck were as good as I’ve seen this season but his shooting could use some work. Mike McLean had a good game too, acquitting himself well all over the ice and making a number of key checks.

I appear to have talked a lot. If you’ve made it this far, many congratulations. I assume my next column will be a bit shorter as a result of this case of textual diarrhoea, so fear not! Or if you know me better than that, you know to expect a similar level of drivel. Tune in at your own risk! Until next time, goodbye my pretties!

The Nomad Speaks: Chapter 236 and a half. Ish.

Cross-posted from http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/

I’m back. And I have to admit, I’m feeling a bit rusty. The lack of exposure to live hockey this season has left me withered and crusty, like a dried up piece of chewing gum stuck under a park bench, used up and forgotten about. God what rubbish I talk. Anyway, I had missed my hockey dearly: it was time to break my fast and a banquet was laid before me in the form of TWO live hockey matches in the fine city of Belfast, a glut that would surely fill me to the brim with wondrous hockey-related tales to impart to you, my poor deprived readers. I was expecting to go away plump and fully sated, content to wallow in the warm glow that my hockey travels would induce and ready to wait patiently for my next instalment.

DAY 1: Friday 11th November

Sadly, almost the exact opposite was to occur. Let’s start at the beginning. There was a plane journey, a bus ride through some truly biblical rain, and a quick pit-stop at our hotel base, before we were on our way to the Odyssey Arena for the first game in our double-headed Giants weekend, against Fife Flyers. I’ll get this out of the way right now: not only am I merely in my sophomore year as a hockey supporter, but I have seen but one live match this season, so despite viewing a selection of odd highlights on YouTube and a bevy of stats on the Elite League website, I feel I might as well be back to square one. I’m a hockey novice again. A nomadic one. A nov-mad. A person who should stop making up words. All that to say, my weekend was one of first impressions, whereas for everyone else, they will have seen their teams in action loads of times and will therefore potentially rubbish my opinions, and for that I wouldn’t blame them. But I’ll share my impressions anyway, because that’s what I do.

The game was a bit pants, really.

We weren’t expecting a great deal, in fairness. Belfast are a very strong side at home, and let’s face it, they’re top of the league. Under-funded and short of imports, and with Danny Stewart recently named club captain and Toms Hartmanis signed to lead the forward line, Fife have basically morphed into last season’s Vipers team, so I was undoubtedly feeling an amount of trepidation as to how they would fare against a notoriously tough Giants side. I’ll stop beating around the bush: we fully expected a rout. It became clear however that this was not what we were going to get. I’m not going to give a detailed match report but I will make a few comments.

I’d been really excited to see the new crop of Giants players in action but some of the key players were quiet for them against Fife, notably Adam Keefe who, although solid, didn’t put in a standout performance, aside from a lone incident which could have exploded into violence if it hadn’t been over before it started, Fife’s 29 mugged by the Giants tough guy, the player basically on the floor before Keefe could really get going. He just looked at the guy and he collapsed in a heap. Keefe’s that hard. Impressive for the Giants today were defenceman Jeff Mason and centre Darryl Lloyd, the latter being my favourite of the Belfast team, a feisty, speedy, blood-and-guts agitator who came out all guns blazing and laid down hits worthy of a guy twice his size. Following the controversy during the week following a questionable hit on former Viper Sam Zajac, Benoit Doucet, unpunished by the Elite League on review, bounced back to score a hattrick and looked one of Belfast’s strongest threats throughout the game.

The scoreline flatters to deceive – it was nowhere near as exciting as it sounds on paper; the home side, although not massively threatened by Fife, did not take the game by the short and curlies and the three goal difference belies the reality of a game in which neither side was overly dominant. At one point in the third period, Fife were on the powerplay and Toms Hartmanis had a fantastic one-on-one shooting opportunity which he just missed. Had he scored, he would have brought the scoreline to within one goal and the game could have genuinely have been turned on its head. As it was, Fife were stubborn but ineffectual in front of goal, the Danny Stewart fighting spirit certainly on show but the lack of strength in depth clear for all to see. And despite the lack of actual fights, the game itself was chippy, with both teams taking numerous penalties, and it threatened to blow up as the final buzzer sounded, the ensuing multi-player handbag-dropping session more exciting than pretty much the entire game.

So what of the former Vipers? As if to make us feel at home, Danny Stewart for some reason took up a spot in defence, and spent a large portion of the game on the ice, along with Toms Hartmanis who displayed the same level of skill and class he did at Whitley Bay last season. Us Viper fans in the audience were greeted with confusion and disdain in equal parts by the Giants faithful, who were presumably thrown by our jerseys in a sort of ‘is it in fact 2010’ déjà vu moment. It felt like something between being an alien species and invisible, which suited us fine, as we mingled with the locals and joined in with the songs, dance routines and general good humour, and what little went on on the ice was much less dramatic than the terrible discovery during the second period break that the entire building seemed to have run out of cider. (Never fear, I found a pint eventually at the last bar I visited – the relief was palpable all around the arena).

ULSTER FRY: I didn’t take any hockey photos because, well, I just didn’t. I wasn't feeling inspired. I have posted this instead which I could use as some kind of hockey metaphor, something to do with breaking eggs, being full of beans... It might get a bit suspect when referring to the relative lack of meat or the size of the sausage though. So I think I’ll just leave it.

DAY 2: Saturday 12th November

By the time game number two came around I was ready for some serious action. And by this, I mean I was literally chomping at the bit. I was so pumped I reckon I could have put in a couple of decent shifts on the ice myself. (Let’s all relish THAT image for a moment, shall we. OK, I’m going to move on now and never speak of such a thing again). Tonight’s opponents were the Cardiff Devils who were expected to be a tougher test for the home side; a decent contest was expected by all. However, as I’m starting to learn that it’s okay not to mince my words and I don’t have to please all of the people, all of the time, I’m going to be brutally honest.

The game was a bit pants, really.

I mean, it was a marginal improvement on yesterday. But it was still missing some major amounts of spark. The Devils were sloppy, giving up penalties haphazardly in the first two periods, but the Giants just couldn’t make the powerplay work for them. Cardiff’s penalty kill team along with a confident Stevie Lyle in goal reigned supreme, and a correctly disallowed goal in the first period took the wind out of Belfast’s sails somewhat. At the other end, Murphy was strong in the Giants goal, and Cardiff had very few shots on either, however the difference between the sides was accuracy, two coolly taken goals to the Giants’ single successful strike going on to be the final score.

I hate to sound bloodthirsty but honestly, what was missing in the game was some good old-time hockey violence. It hung in the air like an unspoken threat, riling the crowd (it wasn’t just me, I swears it), but was never acted upon, tough guys choosing to take a back seat and leaving us frustrated and without resolution, and me yet to see the infamous Keefe doing what he arguably does best, although I would have taken anything at that point; Brad Voth having a heated altercation with a goalpost would have done. Both teams are notoriously physical however I would have to say that our first view of the Braehead Clan some weeks ago left them looking comparatively like far more of a physical threat than either team on this particular night; interesting then that the Glasgow side went on to beat Cardiff in their own rink the following night.

So what of the rest of the action? A few minutes into the third period the game finally picked up, players seemingly realising they were supposed to try and win, Lloyd and Kuiper in particular laying on some big hits for the Giants and lifting their teammates’ spirits. The final two minutes were all Giants, as they frantically tried to level the scoreline and take the game to overtime, but it was not to be and they were left to suffer their third home defeat of the season.

Don’t get me wrong: the edge was in no way taken off my overall Belfast experience by the lack of quality hockey on offer. The Ulster fry was excellent, the company top notch, the dancing cheesy and the weather even able to put in a decent showing after the initial torrents of rain. Sadly, visiting hockey celebrity Simmsey never put in an appearance in Rockies, but the men in black and white stripes, who also put in a good performance on the ice, were on hand to provide drinks.

Okay so I haven’t written much about hockey, but I haven’t written much about facial hair either, remarkable given that we are in the throes of Movember and I had a collection of 50-odd new hockey player faces to inspect over the course of the two days. Rather than dulling my enthusiasm, the lacklustre matches – although failing to provide any real inspiration for my post – have served as a reminder of what I am missing, and that in turn has sparked a desire to put in more of an effort to follow the league once again. I miss hockey more now than ever before. The connection may be missing, and that’s a bitch, for sure, but the passion is still there. I just have to find a way to channel it. And my unhealthy and (worryingly) sharply increasing desire for violence is probably not the healthiest expression of it. Suggestions?

Till next time folks. Don’t forget about me! Tell me things about hockey! And to the Elite League clubs – for the love of God, film some highlights, PLEASE?! How hard can it be? Ta very much!