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!

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.