Just Like Starting Over

Originally posted on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/ on 20th March 2012

Just how do I go about writing this report? It was the game after the Championship-winning night before. It was St Patrick’s Day. And I’m not going to lie to you, I had imbibed a not insignificant amount of Irish beverages prior to my arrival at the Odyssey. Not to mention the night before. The Giants players would surely have a sore head or two amongst their ranks as well and as for the Steelers, it was hard to imagine how they would approach this game; they still had a few hundred travelling fans to go out and play for, but with the title race over, would their minds already be focussing on the play-offs? Just how could this hockey game live up to the previous night?

Putting negativity aside, I am always ready for ice hockey, so I kept an open mind. In the opening minutes of the game it definitely seemed as though the Steelers were the more up for it; they had their game faces on and the teams looked more evenly matched than they had at any time the previous evening – could this be the Sheffield side’s chance to exact a little revenge? It certainly seemed that way as they almost took the lead after five minutes, Colt King with a great effort which was saved, the subsequent rebound fluffed by Jeff Legue, who went on to have a couple of better chances despite his side being short-handed in the following minutes. The Steelers penalty kill was sound and they continued to compete with the unsurprisingly sluggish champions for the remainder of the period, the Giants unable to find a way into the game.

The deadlock was finally broken after 15 minutes, Colt King poaching a tap-in goal from a Jeff Legue shot on the powerplay. This was more like it – I believe ‘let’s have it’ or words along those lines may have escaped from my lips at that time. It boded well for the second period.

The Giants response was rapidly executed however; they equalised just 37 seconds into the second period, Craig Peacock the sniper for the home side. Doug Christiansen must have had a word with his players in the period break – okay lads, you’ve won the league, but let’s prove why. Socks pulled up, the champions began closing down the Steelers more efficiently and the visitors were unable to maintain their early game pressure. The tide was turning.

Four minutes later, Giants Captain Jeremy Rebek took advantage of another lax defensive moment for the Steelers, catching them sleeping to take his side into the lead. It triggered a flurry of three goals in less than two minutes; following some major action in front of John DeCaro’s net in which the Sheffield netminder pulled off an excellent save, Giants scored their third straight from a face-off, Gareth Roberts letting rip an excellent shot into the top right hand corner of the net, DeCaro unable to get near the attempt. Sheffield called a time-out but it couldn’t stop the flow of the clinical Belfast team, who used a failed Steelers’ attempt on goal well-saved by Stephen Murphy to their advantage, turning defence into attack and charging down the ice, Jon Pelle picking out his shot and taking the lead to 4-1.

The Steelers just couldn’t catch a break and I found myself feeling rather sorry for them, the Giants were once again in unstoppable form, their delight from the previous night evident in their boisterous and effusive play in the second period. They were rampant. The Steelers managed to peg back the score to 4-2 with another powerplay effort, but the fight had all but left the building and it felt like a foregone conclusion.

As if to reinforce this notion, the third period began in a rather flat manner, and only livened up when Belfast had their first powerplay opportunity, but despite some good build-up play there was nothing doing. However there was a flavour of just why this team are champions on display throughout the third period: some Tom Dignard being brick hard, some good saves from Murphy when he was called upon, some Darryl Lloyd feistiness, the latter still busy proving just what a handy player he is to have around, goading Steelers Captain Jonathan Phillips into an elbowing penalty after he had him suitably riled, resulting in a 5-on-3 chance for the Giants with around five minutes to go in the period. There was no question they would score, and score they did, another to add to the tally of Craig Peacock.

Back-up netminder Andrew Dickson was given an airing and made a couple of saves, and the crowd noise built once again to a crescendo as the game drew to a close, the result never in doubt and as expected, the whole thing a bit of a damp squib. What followed was worth seeing however, as the League Cup made its first appearance in Belfast for six years, and was proudly lofted by one joyful Giants player after another. It was good to see, but the welcoming arms of Rockies sports bar were calling the neutrals home and as the world and his wife had their turn on the cup and it stopped being people I’d actually heard of, I succumbed to the urge for further refreshment and left the Odyssey for the last time this season.

When all is said and done, Belfast deserved to win the league this year beyond any shadow of doubt. They worked for it and earned it, simply outclassing their opposition at almost every time of asking. Their netminding and defence were by far the best of any team, they had plenty of power in their forward lines and they have arguably the stand-out Brit of the year in Robert Dowd. Whether or not they will be able to replicate it next year is another question and hinges upon how many of the team can be persuaded to stay, and who they bring in to replace the leavers. But now Doug Christiansen has tasted victory, there’s no doubt he will want to do it all over again next year.

Can they become a dominant force in British ice hockey, or was this a one off, unique to this particular group of individuals? Can a team win the league not once but TWICE with a British netminder, thus proving Dave Simms wrong on the same point twice? Will I EVER catch a Subway that’s been shot from a cannon into the crowd at the Odyssey Arena? I’m excited to find out the answers to these and other questions, but all in good time. First and foremost – will the Giants extend their dominance into the play-off section of the season? Discuss. Or at least, I will discuss, in my play-off preview, coming soon. Tune in, fine folk. Oh and please feel free to leave a comment or two, it makes me feel all warm inside. Thanks for reading, bye for now!

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!

That was the week that was...

First published on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/ on 8th January 2012

January. The New Year. A time of resolutions, post-Christmas blues and detoxing. A time to stay in and slouch on your sofa, finishing off the last of the Christmas chocolates and the dregs from the Baileys bottle before launching into the latest fad diet.

I remember this time last year. The transition between Christmas and New Year was significant for me, not just because of the chance to stop force-feeding myself cheese and biscuits and consuming a bottle of wine a day, but because it was when I went from loving ice hockey, to being obsessed with it. And now I remember why. This holiday season, like the last, featured ice hockey in copious amounts. The Spengler Cup and the World Junior Championship adorned our screens, both featured on Eurosport for our viewing pleasure. There was my trip to Edinburgh, not quite the same as last year’s festive Vipers games at Whitley Bay, but still, it enabled me to keep up appearances in the Elite League. And I got an ice hockey film for Christmas! The masterwork that is Youngblood. Ah, scantily clad Rob Lowe. It’s what the holidays are all about.

In the NHL there was plenty going on as always, with the excellent HBO 24/7 series building up to the Winter Classic, and then the game itself on 2nd January, in which a flying Rangers side just got the better of a rangy Flyers side and skated into a comfy little soft spot in my heart in the process. I returned to work to find my Calgary Flames jersey had arrived, a little late Christmas present which lifted my spirits on the return to work. A shame that the team themselves couldn’t do anything of the sort with their on-ice performances. The less said about that the better.

And then I found out that there was to be another live broadcast on Sky Sports: Sheffield Steelers travelled to the Skydome in Coventry to take on the Blaze. Going to the pub in my detoxifying state was just not an option so instead I splashed out on Sky Sports for my home television. Elite League ice hockey in stunning high definition. It’s what Friday nights are made for.

Coventry haven’t beaten Sheffield yet this season, so they would look to break the hoodoo in front of their home crowd and the Sky cameras. Gin and tonic in hand (well, it’s got less calories than cider!) I was ready for a good contest. And it started out briskly, the first chance coming for Sheffield as Blaze picked up an early penalty, but it was wasted, the Steelers with no ideas and no killer instinct on their powerplay, and the Blaze producing an effective penalty kill. Was this a sign of things to come? Er, no.

After an entertaining first few minutes in which King and Jurynec effectively clotheslined each other, Shea Guthrie was speedy and Dave Simms saying ‘Venus’ sounded just like ‘penis’, ex-Blaze man Luke Fulghum scored the opening goal of the game against the run of play, easily finding a gap in the Blaze’s defences to score on Peter Hirsch. Then it was the Blaze’s turn on the powerplay – could this be their chance to stamp their authority on the game? Er, no. Despite some excellent build-up play they could not make the man advantage count; the Steelers’ killer pairing of Legue and Ramsay combining on the counterattack to score a 2ndand stun the Blaze. Steve Birnstill came close to making it three; Hirsch looked all at sea (I told you there would be more poetry eventually). Sheffield’s second line battled and the 3rd goal came from nowhere. This game was in danger of being over before it had started.

It was time for another one of Thommo’s magic time outs. Would it provide the spark that the home side needed to get back into the game? Er, no. The Blaze shut the door on the Steelers to some extent, halting the free-scoring and levelling the game somewhat, but they were frustrating to watch, there was no fight, they couldn’t get any shots on goal, and the balance was by no means redressed.

Into the second and there was a rash of penalties and a number of stick breakages. Somebody call the gear supplier. The Blaze needed to up the urgency, and you could see the desperation as there were a couple of swings and misses. Peter Hirsch looked in better form and made a couple of quality saves, including from a one on one with Jeff Legue, and this seemed to galvanise the Blaze. The game opened up and there was some real end to end stuff. In a reversal of the first period, Coventry looked dangerous on the breakaway, Guthrie missing a number of good chances, and the momentum slowly swung back in favour of the home side. Would they capitalise on their new-found attacking play? Er, no.

In another reversal of fortune (Anne Robinson would be all over this), Sheffield had a powerplay which was much stronger, resulting in a tidy pass from Tait to Ramsay, who buried the puck to make it 4-0, effectively killing the game off. Rob Farmer dropped the gloves and tried to goad Mark Thomas into a fight to rile his side but it wasn’t to be. Could it fire them up? Another ineffectual powerplay later and it seemed perhaps not. But wait: a couple more minutes passed and the hex was broken, Brian Jurynec scoring on the rebound from a Domish shot through John DeCaro’s five hole. It seemed this could this give them the momentum they needed to turn the tide: Bakrlik and Guthrie showed up and had shots saved shortly afterwards. Guthrie is brilliant on the puck but he needs to do some work on his finishing given tonight’s evidence. Then another chance from Rob Farmer, the Blaze spirits really lifted now and the excitement in the Skydome surging – this was more like it! Blaze went for it; there was no doubt they needed to score another goal to take the third period to the Steelers. And they got their chance as Ryan Finnerty was called for holding – a powerplay chance right before the break. Could they make it a two goal game? Er, no.

I took my chance in the second period break to pour more gin and marvel at Russ Cowley’s massive eyes and impossibly complex accent. Where IS he from?

It was a quiet start to the third period compared with the thrilling end to the 2nd; the wind seemed to have gone out of the Blaze sails, and they returned to frustratingly sloppy passing and turning over of pucks. You could almost hear the collective sigh as hoards of casual fans turned over. Hirsch pulled off a couple of decent saves and yet more powerplay opportunities for the home side went begging, and the Steelers, with three games in three nights, understandably took their foot off the gas, their top line resting, and players seemingly taking penalties just because they fancied a sit down. It was frustrating stuff and the time ebbed away. It was all over. On the night, the difference between the teams was sheer hard work, clinical finishing and a strong game in net from John DeCaro.

North of the border, Fife Flyers lost two of their key imports in a major ‘wheels falling off’ week, a mirror image of the Vipers last season, Danny Stewart must be experiencing déjà vu in a big way, the poor guy. But if their misfortunes follow the Vipers pattern they will pull off some surprising results and this was reflected against the Steelers in Kirkcaldy on Saturday night, where the Flyers made the visitors work for the two points despite being under-staffed.

Cardiff went to Nottingham for only the second time this season and played out of their skins despite missing key players Birbraer, Voth and Matzka, producing the game of the weekend thus far, pushing the Panthers on their home ice and beating them 4-2, the forward line of Stu Macrae, Phil Hill and Jeff Pierce turning up in force and causing all sorts of problems for the Panthers defence. Devils defenceman Chris Frank picked up a surely unbeatable 35 penalty minutes in some kind of violence hat-trick, having two fights, bleeding all over the ice and eventually being thrown out of the game for cross-checking from behind. Take a bow, sir. The return leg promises to be a full-blooded affair and that’s putting it mildly.

In the final two games of the day, Belfast and Braehead picked up home wins. The rest of my weekend round-up will follow shortly. Let’s hope tonight’s games give me plenty to write about. Otherwise I’ll talk more about gin and possibly beards. And nobody wants that.

Friday Night Lights

Written for, and originally published on, http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/

Do not adjust your television sets. That’s really ice hockey on your screen. No, really! It’s a travesty that it took this long, but finally, on Friday 9th December, it was time for the first televised game of the season, as league leaders the Belfast Giants travelled to the Motorpoint Arena in Sheffield to take on arguably their main rivals for the title, the Steelers.

The stage was set: a group of Vipers fans gathered in Newcastle’s best new sports bar, Shark Club (it’s Canadian don’t you know), in the VIP area no less (as is befitting of our stature). The screen was large. The beer was cold. The build-up was exciting, although the lovely Anna Woolhouse and her guests were rather drowned out by the banging dance tunes being played in the bar which was a bit of a shame, but at least we managed to pick up most of what Simmsey was saying, as thankfully his voice really seems to carry (damning him with faint praise there)!

The game started out at a high pace, it was end to end stuff right from the off, all the players putting on a good show for the Sky cameras and neither team giving much away in the opening minutes. It was always going to be a close encounter: the timing of the broadcast was fortuitous as the Steelers looked to close the gap on the top-placed team, and with three games in three days they had a great opportunity to do so. But Belfast drew first blood, scoring on the breakaway just over halfway through the first period, Jon Pelle pouncing on a pass from Craig Peacock and burying it in the back of John DeCaro’s net to put the Giants in the driving seat. The Giants were always dangerous on the counter-attack, the blistering pace of Brock McBride in particular a real weapon and a sight to behold, and it seemed for a while as though they would take control, but the game became more physical and the tide turned.

This is what ice hockey on a big screen on a stripey wall looks like!! Them blurs, thems is hockey players! Yet another piece of fabulous photography brought to you by me.

In the second period things evened out again, the one goal lead lending itself to a pulsating yet cagey game. But tempers started to fray and the Giants started to pick up penalties, the Steelers with powerplay after powerplay through the second and third periods, piling the pressure on the Giants’ net. It seemed during the third period that the Giants actually wanted to be short-handed as every time a man returned from the box, another would make the effort to be sent there. Revolving door for Belfast please!

But the Northern Irish side’s penalty kill, along with an imperious display of goaltending by Stephen Murphy, thwarted wave after wave of pressure from the home side and frustrated Steelers fans, the tempo ramping up throughout the third period to a nail-biting crescendo. It looked to be all over as the Steelers just couldn’t find a way to penetrate Murphy’s defences. Back in the pub, conversation broke out. People drifted to the bar. Tabs were settled. The seconds ticked down on the clock…

And then came the game-changer. With 0.42 seconds remaining, Ashley Tait scored what looked through cider-warped eyes to be a good, and priceless, goal, to level the score for the Steelers and take the game to over-time. A shock to the system for the Giants, and the sucker punch was the gift that kept on taking, robbing them of the extra point after less than a minute of overtime, Jeff Legue picking up the puck on the Giants’ blueline and slotting it coolly past Stephen Murphy to end the game.

Steelers celebrated. Giants raged. Coaches vented at officials. Players may or may not have done things they probably shouldn’t have done. Both goals were shrouded in controversy, the first seemingly coming off the back of a missed hand pass, and the second, debated endlessly on the social networks ever since, could well have been offside. In the stop-frame replays Legue looks onside. But should he have had the chance to score that goal at all? It seems not. Passions were running high as Belfast fans and players alike wondered if this could be a turning point. Could that one point be the difference between them winning and losing the title? It would be a brave man who would make such an assertion at this stage in the season. But in the heat of the moment, and given the strength of the Steelers of late, these are the questions being asked.

In any case, for a one goal game it was a great spectacle, and the two teams should be proud of themselves for showcasing British hockey in such a close-fought and exciting encounter. The controversy rumbled on following the game, the players making their feelings known, as has become customary. It’s good for us neutrals, that’s for certain. Speaking of neutral…

Two tickets to the gunfight?

Okay, let’s be up front about this. It was the fight that those of us who are that way inclined would have wanted to see, the two Canadian tough guys named after guns taking it to one another on the ice. But hockey isn’t that simple and for one reason or another – it could quite simply be that the two of them are friends. Or maybe they just didn’t feel like it – they appeared disinterested in sparring, instead showing us what else they were hired for; both putting in good shifts for their teams, King in particular having a strong night up front. Speaking of which…

Colt King: Intelligent Enforcement

‘No Keefe-watch this week?!’ I hear you cry! Yes I may be fickle. But King had a more note-worthy week than Keefe, plus the title of this section sounds like an American cop show. Win win. Don’t worry, I’ll return with a further instalment of Keefe-watch in weeks to come.

Colt King: So hard, they named an alcoholic beverage after him

In a three game weekend for the Sheffield Steelers Colt King proved beyond a shadow of a doubt why Ryan Finnerty put his faith in him this season. For a start, he may be a tough guy, but he’s no goon. He stands up for his team-mates, sure, but he picks his battles carefully; this isn’t fighting for fighting’s sake. He seems to thrive on the implied ass-kicking that he will mete out to anyone who messes with him or his team; having viewed the punishment he doled out to Lepine early on in the season even the toughest in the league will be cautious around him. But he means business when he’s on the ice and is one hell of a presence on his forward line, making a nuisance of himself constantly, distributing the puck with clinical precision and using his physicality in a clever way, shielding the netminder and blocking defencemen to allow his linemates to put in the shots. He’s no goal-poacher and he’s not the fastest guy on the ice but he’s undeniably one of the most valuable forwards in the league when he plays the way he did on Friday against Belfast.

And when he does choose to fight, man does his opponent know about it. In a clear response to Kyle Bruce’s hit on him in Glasgow three weeks previous, King invited Bruce to drop the gloves in Sheffield on Sunday night, and on his home ice proved why he is a force to be reckoned with, winning the tilt in convincing style and causing damage to Bruce in the process (here’s hoping it’s nothing serious). And there’s no show-boating with him either, in contrast to other notable tough guys in this and other leagues. He skates, head down, to the penalty box. Mission accomplished. And continues on his way, five minutes later. Impressed? You will be. More importantly, does he have his own song yet? And if not, why not?

Around the League

In the Sunday basement battle, Dundee Stars picked up two desperately needed points at the expense of visitors Fife Flyers in the first league meeting between the teams, scoring seven goals and gaining some long overdue confidence as well as a first win for new coach Brent Hughes.

The other two Sunday games were once again thrillers (what is it about Sundays?), Braehead Clan coming away with a point and almost upsetting the Steelers on home ice despite being short-benched, the hockey player who most sounds like a German dessert, Steelers’ new boy Francis Trudel, scoring the winning goal in overtime to top off an impressive start to his Elite League career. But the prize for unexpectedly amazing match of the weekend has to go to the tie between Edinburgh Capitals and Hull Stingrays, which was bursting at the seams with 12 goals in regulation time, the teams trading scoring throughout the game eventually tying it 6-6. Amazingly neither team were able to score in overtime, so to a nerve-wracking penalty shoot-out in which the Capitals were finally victorious. Yet again the Elite League pulls cracking entertainment out of the bag.

And so it’s the start of the week once again and I’m left to reflect on the weekend’s action on and off the ice. If I were any sort of aspiring professional I should be attempting to write up these reports immediately following a match. But then I wouldn’t have the full picture. Plus I’m normally drunk and/or hung over at the time. Plus there’s nothing like a couple of days following twitter feeds to add fuel to the already brightly burning fire of inspiration. That’s my excuse. And I’m sticking to it. But there are plenty more talking points to chew over so I’ll see you again soon, folks. TTFN.

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.

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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.