If you’re going to get one, get a Big one: An Elite League title decider weekend preview

Originally posted on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/ on 15th March 2012

Large. Of considerable size. Substantial. Immense. Weekends in British ice hockey do not come much bigger than this one. Weekends in general don’t come much bigger. When this weekend was plucked from the calendar and booked back before Christmas, we had no notion that it would come down to this: two nights, two games, and in them two teams with the final score to settle: who will lift the Elite League trophy this year? Who will be champions, and who will finish second best, runners up.

If it wasn’t big enough, this also happens to be St Patricks’ Day weekend; Belfast will be jumping with visitors as well as being teeming with its own celebrating residents; in addition to the mouth-watering hockey-shaped treats on offer, they will visit for the beer, the rugby (it just so happens to be the Six Nations deciding weekend) and of course the legendary craic. And if all that wasn’t enough, legendary sports bar Rockies is back much to the delight of the visiting hockey fans. Oh, and the games are being broadcast live on BBC Radio. Mainstream coverage, anyone? Don’t mind if we do!

Sheffield Steelers fans are making the journey in their droves, along with a fair few neutrals, myself included. But it’s time to lay my cards on the table. Because when one is passionate about sport, it’s almost impossible to be truly neutral. I want the Giants to win the league, and I have from the outset. But both teams have provided us with some great entertainment this season and I have to say, I really like this year’s Steelers. They are creative, rugged and have a habit of pulling out wins when they’re under the cosh. Which they have had to do on a number of occasions this season, and it’s what has seen them through to where they are today, challenging for the top spot once again.

However they’ve fallen short on occasion too, dropping key points against arch-rivals the Panthers and more recently their opponents for the title, the Giants. Their intercontinental cup jaunt to Denmark earlier in the season left them trailing games and points and they’ve been playing catch-up ever since, which has to take its toll psychologically, notwithstanding the frenetic schedule that has seen them packing in the games late in the season. There’s no doubt they must be tired, physically and mentally. Do they have enough left in the tank? Two games in a hostile Odyssey Arena will need to yield a full four points if they are to have any hope of staying in the race, and that is one hell of an ask, against a Giants side who have rarely been found wanting this season.

The Giants have delivered in all areas, all season – in Stephen Murphy they have a strong, confident netminder, in front of him a stingy defence composed of some of the brightest sparks in the league this season in Dignard, Mason and Kuiper, and at the front they’ve had the firepower to win games, in no small part due to exceptional Brits Rob Dowd and Craig Peacock. ‘It’s theirs to lose’ is the mantra that’s been repeated by pundits, journalists and fans alike for the past few weeks, and it’s true. It would be fair to say that this weekend is more of a title confirmation than a title decider, as all Belfast need to do to etch their name into that trophy is to win one of the two games in front of what is likely be a capacity home crowd, and as long as they don’t go to pieces, they should be able to do that.

Key battles will be fought all over the ice, but Belfast’s squeaky clean defence face one of their stiffer challenges up against probably the league’s top forward, Jeff Legue, who is capable of scoring clutch goals in exactly these sorts of situations, along with a collection of other bright attacking talent. The hits should be hard thanks in no small part to the return of Belfast’s Darryl Lloyd, but these teams respect one another and I predict a cagey start, hopefully developing into full-on, balls out, play-off style hockey. The importance of the netminders having strong performances has already been discussed and is undeniable. Head to head, the teams have played four times this season and have shared honours even. They really couldn’t be any more closely matched.

So what will it come to on the day? What will decide the fate of the League title for the 2011/12 season? Could it be the influence of a coach, Doug Christiansen looking on from the bench, or Finnerty out on the ice, dogged and determined as ever? Perhaps it will come down to one piece of luck, one breakaway chance, one sneaky goal, the tightest of margins. Perhaps even a nerve-shredding penalty shoot-out. Or maybe, just maybe, one team will step up to the challenge and exert themselves over the other, stamping their authority on the game and leaving it all on the ice to prove they have what it takes to be league champions. Whatever happens, it’s going to be compelling. And I’ll bring you every twist and turn right here over the weekend – if I’m able to get past jubilant Irish folk to my laptop, that is. I have only three words left to conclude my preview, and these are they: Bring. It. On.

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.

The Bel-fast and the… Not So Furious

Originally posted on http://www.ukamericansportsfans.com/ on 19/02/2012

Despite my misgivings with regard to the potential quality of the hockey on offer at Friday night’s meeting of the Belfast Giants and the Hull Stingrays, my spirits couldn’t be dampened: nothing ever takes the edge, for me, from walking into an ice rink just as a hockey game is about to start.

And the Giants know how to do entrances: the lights, the music, the drama. Nothing beats it. With the exception of one thing: when it’s actually your team. The merry band of travelling Vipers once again took their seats in the neutral zone, between the home faithful and a group of travelling Stingrays fans who were in fine voice from the word go. Was I jealous? You bet I was.

The game started out briskly but little of consequence occurred until around three and a half minutes in, when the Giants opened the scoring, short-handed, a breakaway effort resulting in a neat pass from Paul Deniset in the centre to right of goal, Rob Dowd able to slot home with ease. Hull wanted to make it a game of it though and had a chance or two or their own in the first period, a good effort from a sprawling Jason Silverthorn probably the best to speak of, along with a decent shot from Sam McCluskey following a rare moment of poor defending from the Giants, and a solo effort from Dominic Osman providing a further gasp of frustration from the travelling fans.

The first period was fairly lively all around without a great deal of end product, however, in any area of the ice. Shots on goal were few and far between, and the atmosphere in the Odyssey was decidedly flat despite a sizeable crowd, the Hull fans providing the lion’s share of the noise. They finally had something to cheer about with 1:50 left on the clock, a tidy pass from Derek Campbell connecting with the stick of Andrew McKinney who finished the chance to level the scores. The 1-1 scoreline reflected the lack of real fizz on display in the first period, and it stayed that way into the period break thanks to a solid glove save from Hull netminder Christian Boucher from a Belfast powerplay.


The second period had a different flavour to it, and that flavour was distinctly Giant-y. It was all Belfast. They sieged the Stingrays’ goal for almost the entire 20 minutes, but with frustratingly little impact. Hull defended resolutely and kept the score level for nearly three quarters of the period, a sterling effort although at the expense of any attacking pressure, having just one shot on goal themselves all period. It was only a matter of time until the home side pressed home their advantage, although it took a lot more time than expected. Jeff Mason finally broke through Boucher’s defences from Mike Hoffman, who had been key in the steadily mounting pressure during the build-up to the goal. It was my first time seeing Hoffman back in action for the Giants since his last-gasp end of transfer window return to the club. His presence is as formidable as ever, perhaps more so this season, his size conspicuous amongst a fairly diminutive team, and his impact working as a forward more daunting to an opposing team than he ever was in defence. He was one of the Giants’ main impact players on the night.

I’m sorry. I’m not making this exciting for you at all, am I. You know I don’t want to be one of ‘those’ reporters. You know, the ones who just tell you stuff that happened. I want to entertain you, regale you with tales of breathtaking excitement, but sadly this particular game was lacking in well, any of that at all. It seemed my curse had returned. To add insult to injury there was a lengthy gap to the beginning of the third period as the officials tried to make the ice game-worthy once again, the temporary distraction of clouds of CO2 floating artistically across the ice more entertaining than the 20 minutes of hockey that followed.

Let’s be fair to Hull for a minute. They were a couple of imports short, young Brits bolstering their numbers, and only 13 skaters in their ranks, their top goal scorer not among them. But the Giants were nothing special either. They did just enough; no more. Come back Darryl Lloyd, all is forgiven. They sorely miss him, and so do I. Lloyd’s balls-out feisty attitude and physical play was what was glaringly absent from the Giants on Friday. There wasn’t a player willing to finish a check, and there was no bite to the game whatsoever. Even the cheerleaders were lacklustre, failing to provide a coordinated routine throughout the entire third period. Oops, sorry, I appear to have made the inevitable but disappointing switch from hockey writer to Strictly Come Dancing judge. I do apologise.

No matter, the GIants continued to exert pressure throughout the third period and with only one goal in it, all Hull would need to tie things up would be a lucky breakaway goal. But it wasn’t to be. The defensive pairing of Tom Dignard and Nick Kuiper effortlessly mopped up the minimal chances Hull had, and the tired Rays were forced to resort to taking long shots, without the legs to muster any decent build-up play. Mike Hoffman and Jeff Mason were the men of the night, adding two goals each in the final period, Mason abandoning his defensive post to become a forward for the night. The goals came thick and fast and Hull had no response; they were nowhere to be seen.

And that was that. Day one, game one, result within one goal of my prediction and the excitement non-existent as feared. Saturday’s game against Fife promised more. It at least promised Danny Stewart, who alone possesses the ability to niggle and shake up the Giants, and hopefully rouse the crowd from their slumber. It couldn’t be much worse. Could it? Check back to find out shortly.

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 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!