Justin Bourne played 11 games with the Idaho Steelheads of the ECHL before breaking his jaw. (Photo by Allan Picard)
Justin Bourne
2009-03-03 10:05:00
Playing hockey for a living offers some perks recreational players aren't afforded – namely, free gear. My senior year of college included 38 games and two dozen Nike/Bauer Vapor XXX sticks, which at the time retailed for just less than the cost of a human baby on the black market.
Along with the sticks, I got two new pairs of custom Bauer skates to account for That-Thing-That-Cannot-Be-Explained on my heels. It's a good deal.
Junior, college and pro hockey allowed me to be the best buddy a rec player could have, enabling my closest friends to pilfer what they could from the pseudo sports store I assembled in my garage.
I understand the benefits of pro hockey. We play a game for a living. We travel with a group of like-minded males in a similar age group and, occasionally, fans love us. We even travel in suits – girls tend to notice that. (Easy, Bri, easy now...)
At the same time, "playing" changes to "working" when you start earning that paycheck. Out of every 20-man lineup, there are probably four guys "playing hockey" and 16 others working. If you aren't Sidney Crosby or one of the other ridiculously talented players, you better get that puck in deep when you're over the red line; you better block that shot; you better win that D-zone faceoff.
So when the coach isn't on the ice and the players get to have a shinny game, it looks like someone threw a tennis ball into a Golden Retriever convention. It's every man for himself, because in reality, the mid-play thoughts of a professional hockey player are usually a jumbled potpourri of:
Coach: "Get it deep or get undressed!"
Teammates: "You didn't see me open there?"
Teammate's father: "If you have an open shot, take it."
European teammate: "It's OK to stickhandle."
You: "Yeah, it's probably OK to stickhandle."
Any given play can end in: "Why didn't you pass/shoot/make a play/pack your bag yet? You're cut."
Rec hockey was something I dreamed about as I worked my way through the Mike Vandekamp school of junior hockey, which I should add was extremely effective. I dare you to come to one of Vandy's practices without having met your quota of bodychecks in the previous game, or to show up on video turning the puck over at the blueline.
I had a funny relationship with Vandy, but we had a mutual agreement. He would let me smile and laugh, provided I never screwed up and hit everything that moved, or else he'd get to kill me and sell my organs for profit.
Related Links
More Justin Bourne THN.com Blogs
Justin Bourne Player Page
See all THN Insider Blogs
N.Y. Islanders Team Page
It's a well-known fact that under-talented teams can be successful with a stingy defense and most coaches believe their team to be under-talented. So you better be able to play defense.
Though I don't disagree with the logic from a coaching standpoint, there's no doubt North Americans have the creativity beaten out of them where many of the Euros don't. So here we sit, watching the rec-leaguers toe-drag, stretch for breakaway passes and try multiple passes on a two-on-one.
Lucky.
I can't walk past a rec league game without ending up nose-against-the-glass like a kid looking for Santa, fantasizing about what spin-o-ramas must feel like and generally noting the legacy of Denis Savard was just offended by some guy's weak-ankled sow-cow.
To play the game like this, to play because the game is truly great, is to honor the roots of hockey. Fakes, creativity and trickery were sacrificed to the Gods of positional play and hard work in North America's recent past and we're just now waking to the realities of the super-skilled NHL. I bet most rec players couldn't tell me where they should be in a left wing lock and I'm confident none of them lived a less satisfying life because of it.
I'm going to join a rec league and play center because faceoffs look like fun. Only, I'm going to completely neglect my duties in the defensive zone. I'm going to use "center" as a synonym for "rover" and cruise around until I get the puck, then I'm going to attack on a one-on-three and not shoot until I skate it into the net. My official stat line will read three goals and four assists for seven points, because nobody is there to let me know the rest of it reads: 11 shifts for 33:01 of ice time, with 15 turnovers and a minus-9 rating.
I could go home with a smile on my face after that. Especially after I drink a couple quick beers in the dressing room. Now that's hockey.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Preparing for back-to-back games
After losing 6-5 to the New York Rangers Dec. 2, the Islanders lost again to their rivals Dec. 3, 2-0. (Photo by Bruce Bennett/Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-12-06 13:45:00
Most hockey players are aware of the phenomenon that is the inability to sleep after a game. The only thing different in rec leagues is that there's usually one or 30 more cans of beer left in the dressing room.
For professionals, back-to-back games are common and getting a decent night's sleep can be essential to playing well the second night. Since you play in less than 24 hours, things like sleeping pills and alcohol aren't exactly the greatest idea. You're forced to just deal with it as best you can, which usually means staring at the ceiling and re-hashing the wide open net you missed in the first period.
A light spin on the bike, a big meal and maybe a single beer are usually a decent start towards being ready to sleep – still, it's going to take until well after one in the morning for those things to kick in. Because of that reality, you have to be sure to take extra care of the other factors that affect whether you feel fresh or not.
If you're not diligent in following your routine, you risk looking like the New York Islanders did Friday night in the second game of their home-and-home with the Rangers – flat.
The light spin on the bike, while great for unwinding after the game, also provides a nice flush of lactic acid so your legs don't feel like cement the next day. If you're really hardcore, you can sit in the 50-degree Farenheit cold tub for eight-to-12 minutes, which, while painful, is incredibly effective (it's not so good for helping you fall asleep, however).
Most high-level pro teams will have a hot tub as well, so players have the option to do the contrast between hot and cold tubs. That's another solid way to help your legs feel light on Day 2.
From wake-up call to puck drop, it's all about resetting your body. You have to start with a solid breakfast, get to the rink early and take it from the top.
If you need to spend time with the trainers (by mid-season, most guys do), you want to arrive even earlier – it's one of the best parts of being a hockey player.
You can pour yourself a nice cup of coffee, get hooked up to the stimulation machine – or whatever it is that needs tending to – and read the paper. You can stretch, you can chat – I'd say the morning after a win when you play a game that night is the most fun and social part of being a hockey player.
Related Links
Bourne: Blowouts about stats
Bourne: The art of goal scoring
That morning skate is usually an absolute breeze, but you can't go through the motions if you hope to feel good that night. You need to push yourself at least hard enough to get a good sweat going and to shake those legs out.
I'd say this is one of the biggest differences between athletes and non-athletes – as a hockey player, I learned you don't necessarily need more rest to feel energetic. Sure, you don't want to be lacking sleep, but in order to feel fresher, sometimes you have to go harder.
The pre-game meal that day isn't as important – you basically play on what you ate the night before (which makes your post-game meal choice key), so it's a decent day to mix up the pasta/chicken monotony. I preferred to jam a few slices of pizza down my gullet.
After a decent, not-too-long nap, you should be ready to go. It's the hardest day to make yourself get out of bed from a nap, given the previous night's sleep wasn't all that great, but you have to make yourself do it.
By the time you have a cool wake-up shower and put that suit on, you're usually feeling brand new – sometimes even better than the night before.
If you're committed and taking preparation seriously, there's no reason you shouldn't feel as good as you did on Night 1.
Devoting your entire day to feeling as fresh as possible at a certain time is a crazy thing, but it's healthy and a great part of the job. Really, anytime your routine involves meals, naps and hockey, it's kind of tough to complain.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Blowout games all about the stats
Chicago captain Jonathan Toews had one goal in Saturday's 7-1 drubbing of the Vancouver Canucks. (Photo by Rich Lam/Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-11-22 13:50:00
When a blowout is building, sometimes there's just no way to stop the snowball from becoming an avalanche.
On Saturday, the Chicago Blackhawks put the boots to the Vancouver Canucks 7-1 – one night after those same Hawks took a 7-2 licking from the Calgary Flames.
A two-goal deficit is always within reach, so when you get down three and start falling into that rout territory, the next goal becomes absolutely massive. You can feel the life being sucked out of the bench the instant the next one goes in to make it four.
The game's over, only you have to keep playing…and it's time to board the Minus Train.
Most people are aware plus-minus can be a misleading stat. While it's not the most precise indicator of effectiveness, it's at least somewhat relevant - and, as a player, you never want any of your numbers to look bad, regardless of which ones they are.
So, when you take a "dash" for something you had nothing to do with - say a teammate makes a late change, you hop on the ice and start backchecking and your opponent scores - it can be a touch frustrating.
Some nights, it seems to keep happening no matter which way you turn - those are the nights you put your knuckles through your bedroom door, as a certain player-turned-writer may or may not have done one night after a blowout loss.
You can't just quit before the game ends, though - that's a sin as bad as any. But man, would it be nice to hit the reset button and go back to the drop of the puck. It's like the goals are coming easy for your opponent.
Then again, you know what it's like when you're on the other side of that score.
It does come easy.
You feel patient and confident with the puck, you make nice little decisions and you start playing to boost your stats. You try to run up your numbers on a team that's clearly sans mojo, which only serves to further dig the statistical hole for the players on the wrong side.
Chicago coach Joel Quenneville apparently sent out some of his top players on a 5-on-3 power play with the game already out of hand and Vancouver bench boss Alain Vigneault took that as an affront to his team and his players. But hey, those Blackhawk stars want to pad their numbers too, especially since those numbers had gone the opposite direction the night before in Calgary. And let the facts state it was fourth-liner Fernando Pisani who scored Chicago's fifth and sixth goals.
Related Links
Blackhawks beat Canucks 7-1
Justin Bourne blog archives
When you're getting smoked, all you can do is play to cauterize the wound - to stop the bleeding. Just get this game to the final buzzer so you don't take another dash.
Those last five to 10 minutes are painful - guys are hollering on the bench about pride, coach is trying the "I've never been so embarrassed" routine and everybody just wants the game to friggin' end.
Coach shuffles the lines. Then he does it again. He picks a whipping boy and loudly pronounces him benched. All of a sudden, the kid who usually gets four minutes of ice per game is getting Duncan Keith minutes. Of course, that only makes your team worse, because that guy only plays four minutes for a reason.
It happens with regularity in every league on the planet. Heck, it's probably happening now - some team, somewhere, is getting whooped so bad the players just want to go home. There's a guy on the ice thinking, "If I can just get through this one more shift, it'll be fine…"
Minus.
Once it starts, there's just no stopping it.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Early contact a great puck possession weapon
St. Louis' T.J. Oshie has 10 points and a plus-5 rating through 12 games. (Photo by John Russell/NHLI via Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-11-08 16:20:00
"Playing the body" is more than just trying to blow your opponent to pieces.
It's a valuable tool meant to help separate your opponent from the puck, eliminate scoring chances against and, sure, in some cases, intimidate.
Though we still see plenty of Happy Gilmore-esque "Don't you ever touch my puck!" style hits, some players have learned the value of separating a guy from the puck before they get their face smeared into the glass.
It's essentially the T.J. Oshie Special and, when utilized correctly, can leave you all kinds of time and space to make good decisions.
When two players are racing after a loose puck in the corner, the majority of the time the one player gets to it first, the other guy hits him, then a battle for the biscuit ensues.
It's a tough call when you're racing towards a free puck - do you let your opponent get there before you, have first touch of the puck and take the hit (seems more appealing) or beat him there, take the hit yourself and have the first shot at making a play?
Obviously, coaches want to see you get to the puck first and "take the hit to make the play," as the old hockey adage goes. And for sure, it's the right thing to do. It gives you the opportunity to move the puck in the direction of your choosing, assuming you don't get hit so hard you end up on your backside. It's tough to convince yourself to get smoked for the good of your team, but at the NHL level, the majority of guys who won't do it have long since been weeded out.
But with the Oshie method, you don't have to get blasted - it just involves a little deception.
The trick here is to keep skating like you're willing to get to the puck first and take the hit. Smart players used to work to get themselves against the glass here (as opposed to coasting), so their opponent would bounce off them and they wouldn't have to deal with the extra feet of separation between them and the boards that can be so dangerous.
Oshie is particularly adept at acting like he doesn't know his opponent is there or that he's going to go in and take that hit up against the glass.
You have to keep your feet moving to make it look like that's the plan, but prepare to plant your skates nice and early. Before you approach the boards, you dig in, turn back and land a stiff shoulder into the chest of the guy who's all excited to get a free shot on you.
Given the direction you're moving, you can rarely generate enough force to blow the guy up and since it usually appears to be minor, if not incidental contact, you almost never get an interference call. It's right on the line between clean and dirty, but definitely in the category of "effective," as contact rarely comes that early.
Related Links
POLL: Where will St. Louis finish?
T.J. Oshie player page
Oshie popped Zdeno Chara so hard doing this last week that he sat the big giant down, which isn't an easy feat unless you catch him off guard. This move is prone to accomplishing that against most defenders.
Keep in mind, you have to be a sturdy skater to do this or you can end up with a broken neck, but pros all skate well enough to deal with this contact. It also helps to be made of dense black matter, as Oshie appears to be.
You'll usually carry on into the boards, of course, but given that your opponent will be way off balance (since he was preparing to give a hit, not take one), you've created the window necessary to not just move the puck, but take control of it.
I've played with and against a number of players who used early (interference-like) contact, but the best that I've seen are Oshie, his linemate David Backes and Rod Pelley of the New Jersey Devils. You just never knew when you were going to eat their shoulder, whether you had the puck or not.
Keep your eyes peeled for contact when neither player has the puck, especially those hits initiated by the player who used to be the one getting hit. It's being used more and more (as guys get bigger and faster, putting yourself on a tee gets less appealing) and makes for some interesting jockeying for position in corners around the NHL.
Justin Bourne's Blog: The art of goal scoring
Steven Stamkos scored 51 goals for Tampa Bay last season. (Photo by Scott Audette/NHLI via Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-10-25 16:19:00
Just because the goalie knows where you're going to shoot doesn't mean he can stop it.
That's one of my favorite offensive lessons from my playing days. Don't over-think it and don't get too fancy, because it is possible to just straight up beat the goalie, even if he knows where you're going.
We're being re-taught the lesson with regularity by Steven Stamkos nearly every time he plays - goalies know where he's going to be parked, they know he's got a cannon, they know where he's shooting, but they just can't get there. He puts them in a position where they have to make a tough save and he usually comes out on top.
I started to put it together watching Jeff Tambellini and Frans Nielsen in shootouts in Bridgeport – at one point, both guys scored on seven consecutive attempts. Jeff swings a little wide, drifts back to the middle of the ice and absolutely rifles a snap/wrister high glove (incredible because he's a lefty). Frans winds in, shows shot and at the last-second pulls it to his backhand and tucks it under the bar (it's amazing to see how consistently he can place the puck in the exact spot).
Given that I relied pretty heavily on deception to score, this blew my mind. Goalies absolutely knew what these two were going to do, but they executed the moves so well it still worked. (At one point in my dad's career he scored a breakaway goal on Mike Liut who said to reporters after: "Bourne only has one move," to which dad responded something like "...then I guess my best move is better than his best save.")
And that's the key.
There are some unavoidable holes in goaltenders that are created by movement and good players have learned to exploit them, taking what's obvious over doing what the majority of younger players try to do: get cute.
When I was coming up to and through college, I never wanted to do what it seemed everyone else was doing and sometimes that left me handcuffed.
I used to think, "How do goalies not know that' s going to happen? How can a guy score using such a default move?" Well, it's pretty obvious: catching a well-placed hard snapshot from in close isn't easy. Since a goalie has to honor that a player might shoot, it can be hard to get down and across before a guy can get that backhand off.
Related Links
NHL goal leaders
Steven Stamkos player page
Justin Bourne blogs
Those moves make the goalie make the save, which is more effective than stickhandling yourself into the corner or missing the net.
I always wondered why coaches wanted to strangle us so bad when we'd take a pass on a 2-on-1 and cut back across the net instead of shooting. That moving goalie is full of holes while trying to push across – even if you don't hit your spot it'll usually go in.
People are often in awe of all the "breaks" goal-scorers get - how the puck just seems to find holes for them when they shoot. But half the battle is shooting at opportune times in opportune places. As goal-scorers, we need to play the percentages and test goaltenders as often as possible.
Goalies can be intimidating. More and more these days they're tall with huge gear and play their angles well. But they still make plenty of mistakes and offensive talents needn't wait for the net to be empty to fire.
Lefties have low blocker, righties have high glove. These are well-known default shooting spots for a reason – they're tough saves to make, so force those goalies to make them.
Next time you're on a breakaway, or a 2-on-1, remember the lesson I learned from Tambellini and Nielsen – just because the goalie knows what you're going to do, doesn't mean he can stop it.
Print Email Justin Bourne's Blog: How personal issues can affect on-ice play
Mike Ribeiro had 53 points in 66 games last season for Dallas. (Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-10-11 17:30:00
Hockey players have to find a way to perform at the rink when things away from it aren't perfect, just as the rest of us have to deal with our jobs when our personal lives aren't cooperating. Sometimes it's not easy.
When the sun rose on Oct. 11, it shone light on a new development coming out of Plano, Texas – Mike Ribeiro had been to jail the previous night for public intoxication after an altercation (that included his wife) with other patrons at a sushi bar.
The Stars play at home Thursday versus the Red Wings - he'll obviously be dealing with more issues than your average player.
It's rare that a player's problems are as public as this – for the most part, if it can be kept away from the police, it can be kept away from the media. But that doesn't mean off-ice issues aren't affecting a number of players on every team, on any given night.
In fact, most players are rarely as single-minded and all-hockey as we believe. Not everyone covets the Stanley Cup the way Sidney Crosby seems to. There are more than a few players in the league who would place a number of things ahead of hockey on their priority depth chart.
A lot of player inconsistency can be chalked up to the other things on that chart, regardless of the order.
I myself had one year of my college career so beset by off-ice issues that it affected my on-ice play. I got dumped by a long-term girlfriend, got into a little off-ice trouble, struggled in my classes and had some priorities temporarily shift.
By the time I got through dealing with those problems and got to the rink, I was just happy to get back to my safe-haven, the dressing room. But things didn't quite click for me when I got out on the ice and I couldn't figure out what was different.
Putting the mental part aside for a second...if something has been eating up a chunk of your off-ice time, it's likely you'll train less, sleep less and struggle to find the time to execute the "extras" that make good players great.
Those extras are small things – getting to GNC for new multivitamins, finding free time to relax, whatever – but by the end of the year, the little things add up and affect your quality of play.
On the more obvious side of things, if you're worrying about inflated lawyer bills from off-ice chaos (as Ribeiro may soon be) and trying to find a way to make a court appearance between your morning practice and your afternoon flight, you're not going to be as effective when your plane lands for your next game. It's inevitable.
Related Links
Mike Ribeiro arrested
Mike Ribeiro player page
Justin Bourne blogs
It's not necessarily that you end up thinking about your problems during a game, it's that the pre-game time you'd normally use to mentally prepare is used on more pressing life issues. You don't want to go into a game thinking "I just need to get through tonight's game."
I personally never got it back on track that entire season – I spent the majority of the time getting the other, equally important things where I needed them to be.
When Ribeiro returns to the ice for his first post-jail game, I doubt he'll be affected all that much – you can't undo a summer of training and preparation and all his talent with one weekend snafu. But as these things drag on and eat up more energy, time, money and brain power, it gets harder to navigate the on-ice rigors - you're spent from the off-ice ones.
Life throws a few curveballs at all of us on occasion and the trick to being successful in a life-consuming job like playing hockey is simply by knowing yourself and staying disciplined. You find the things you enjoy doing and the situation that makes you most comfortable and try to keep that constant. (Crosby learned that lesson early and spent four successful years at the Lemieux household.)
Many young players in the NHL ride the roller-coaster the first few years, figuring out just which off-ice lifestyle makes them the most successful and committing to it.
Ribeiro may have thought he had his personal life game plan figured out, but will surely update it and learn from this snafu.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Dealing with the downers of 'Cut Day'
Tomas Marcinko skates at the New York Islanders' rookie camp in July. (Photo by Paul Bereswill/Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-09-13 13:56:00
Roughly three days before it actually rears its ugly head, 'Cut Day' embeds itself in the stomach of bubble players in the form of a knot. A knot made out of butterflies.
The build-up to Cut Day, for me anyway, was filled with self-loathing. I'm sure there's a few of you out there who know the routine - undervalue the things you did well, overvalue the things you messed up and in general, call yourself a slew of names that, coming from another person's mouth, would almost certainly start a fight.
The sad reality of tryouts, which most intelligent people are aware of, is this: The team is more or less picked. Every team I made, I knew I was going to make. Whether I had been already signed, or simply told directly, I knew. The times I didn't make teams, I wasn't sure where I stood. It's rare that a guy who isn't in the plan sticks, so to all you unsure players at camp right now, in your hotel room, reading THN on your laptop to kill time: You're getting cut. If you aren't sure…it's happening, bud. That doesn't mean don't try; you still need to make a good impression.
Cut Day was almost never the same on any team I tried out for. In New York with the Islanders, they called me to the front of the plane where I sat in the front row between Garth Snow and Ted Nolan. And, like the Seinfeld episode about sitting three-abreast at the counter, there I was, fully turning to the guy who was speaking, back and forth, while they tried to see around me when they were talking to each other. I then did the walk of shame back to my seat past the rest of the people on the plane.
(Tangent: I'm told that when someone is told they have a life-threatening condition, they tend to not remember anything after that in the meeting with their doctor. I swear, I remember nothing from that conversation. I remember it being "positive without promises" as a general feel, but that's all I got on that one.)
In Bridgeport, they called guys down to the dressing room five or six at a time, where the players (who had inevitably car-pooled from the hotel) would sit and talk about how bad they suck at hockey and how their careers were headed down the toilet, while the first person marched towards execution in the coach's office. The others just sat on the couches, predicting the unchanging, standard cut lines they'd be hearing in mere moments:
We really thought you played great, we're impressed. It's just a numbers game. We'll be keeping an eye on you down there. Thought you worked very hard.
After practice in junior, our coach would bring the guys in for a group chat, then mention a few who were supposed to come down to the office that night. It was horrific, because not everyone was cut when they went to the office. Sometimes he just wanted to ask a few questions or put a guy on notice, but since the majority of guys were getting axed, everybody got to feel that stress. For those who haven't experienced the "come down to the office tonight at 7 p.m." feeling, it's directly comparable to the married couple's "we need to talk tonight" - it might not be horrible, but it probably is.
Related Links
Justin Bourne blogs
All THN.com insider bloggers
Hodgson may miss pre-season
Formulaic and insincere, the cut conversation with the coaching staff begins. Nobody in the room enjoys themselves (the pink-slip-in-your-locker thing sounds like a much better arrangement. Just write the reason down and let's avoid the face-to-face. We weren't dating). And worst of all, as is standard for me, I'd start sweating like we're halfway through the first period or something. My moustache and forehead first, followed by having to wipe off the sweat, which means they notice, which means I start sweating more. Chaos.
And when you're finally beheaded in that guillotine, there's almost a feeling of relief – you've been stressing and stressing about it, so you're somewhat prepared. There are the phone calls: mom, dad, girlfriend, brother, agent, texts to friends and teammates, etc. There's the packing. And then there's some freedom, if only for the one evening.
Depending on your journey, the cycle is usually about to start over again: New team in a new (lower) league; the arena's not quite as nice; the dressing rooms aren't quite as nice; they don't have quite as much staff. But the guys are just as great, the coaches are just as serious about winning and you adjust pretty quickly.
It's just another rung on the ladder - a step down you didn't want to take, but what choices do you have? All you can hope for is when the next team's Cut Day rolls around, the blade of the guillotine stays suspended in the air.
Justin Bourne's Blog: The Numbers Game – It's time to start counting
Justin Bourne played 16 games for the Bridgeport Sound Tigers in 2007-08, scoring two goals and five points. (Photo courtesy of Justin Bourne)
Justin Bourne
2010-08-30 15:25:00
We've reached that special part of the off-season where hockey players pay as much attention to roster moves as fantasy hockey geeks. For the guys who know which training camp they're attending, but haven't splashed any ink on a contract, it's a bit of a nerve-wracking time.
While your body is yelling "LET'S DO THIS!" like Joe from Family Guy, your brain is using the excess time to torture yourself, callously flip-flopping between "you got this" and "no chance."
Inevitably, you start picking apart the roster of your destination team with a little help from the fancy interweb machine. Where do I fit in? Or do I at all?
It used to be: you'd get to camp, size up the competition, count the returning players, guess how many spots were open and do your best. You barely had time to make yourself psycho.
Now, just like then, coaches advise you to control what you can control – yourself – and let them worry about the roster. Which is like advising you to not worry about the pending layoffs at your company, "now just go have your job-evaluation meeting with the Bobs in a few hours and be yourself."
Today's players are able to stress themselves out well in advance. It's pretty easy research to do, since every squad has a website these days. From the Vernon Vipers of the British Columbia League to the New York Islanders of the NHL, you can pull up a list of names and evaluate.
You have to take a peek at the situation, right? You have to see which guys are returning, if they've updated the roster, who they've recently signed, what the coach's quotes are about the new signings, who they've recently invited to camp, who they've…oh my god I'm stressed out thinking about it.
"OK, they have four returning right wingers, but that guy could make the big club and I'm better than that other guy. But, I see they've just invited that tough guy and those two college kids who are all right wingers. There are only two guys under contract on the left side, but the big club just drafted those two left wingers and there are always the walk-on guys. Still, I could make the switch to...."
Related Links
Littman: What's new in EA NHL 11
POLL: Sam Gagner contract
A player can make himself crazy playing armchair GM. If you're really lucky, maybe you're trying out for a team with an active fan forum, where after camp starts up you can read just how "soft and slow" you really are.
Some players will tell you they don't like to look and don't like to think about "the numbers game" (The Numbers Game, by the way, is the reason everyone in the history of ever has been cut), but you'd have to be blind not to see it sometimes. Especially when coach asks the centers to stay after practice for a faceoff tournament or something, you'd have to be "special" not to notice there are 14 other guys on the ice.
Established, contracted players have a massive leg-up. Not only do they have to go into camp and lose their jobs – which is only 5,000 times harder to do than winning one – but they have almost no stress. They can take a couple chances with the puck, relax without it and generally be more effective players. Combine that with the fact they probably are more effective players to begin with (since they've earned contracts) and sometimes the divide between those trying out for a team and those already on it can be painful to watch (or, cough, experience).
For certain players, the mental grind starts now. Which is good for the fans, because that means the physical one is just about to start. Which, in turn, means the season is fast approaching.
And thank goodness for that. The wait's been making me crazy.
Bourne's Blog: What it means to 'play through the pain'
Justin Bourne scored five points in 16 games with the Bridgeport Sound Tigers in 2007-08. (Photo courtesy of Justin Bourne)
Justin Bourne
2010-05-20 11:05:00
Playing with injuries has as much effect on your head as it does your body.
It's not always pain that limits your movement; it's usually your brain. It's tough to convince your far-too-reasonable mass of grey matter that taking a hit to make any play is a good idea when your shoulder feels like it's being held together with decade-old elastic bands. So on a sizable number of occasions during a career in which I went more than 10 years without missing a game to injury, I was half-useless to my team by trying to play through the damage.
Like a couple years ago in the ECHL playoffs when I had a bone bruise on my ankle. Sounds like nothing your average hockey player would miss a game for – but holy smoking crap are there "this isn't fun," grit-your-teeth moments with a bone bruise. So, like with any nagging injury, I took the steps I needed to be in the lineup every night.
In my case, my trainers devised a medical pad (wait, that sounded way too fancy – they cut up some stiff foam) designed to take the pressure off the painful area. But all the foam and Advil in the world can't stop a part of your foot from pressing into your skate and causing some misery. And that's just the way it is – you're going to deal with some distracting pain if you want to play in the playoffs, so the (sexist) mantra is basically "man up, Sally," or the world's stupidest fill-in-the-blank cliché, "the ankle is a long way from the heart."
The moment I hit the ice for warmup, all I could think about was my bulky, differently tied skate – not the pain. I constantly fidgeted with the padding and tape to minimize the pressure and bulk, because the moment the game starts, lord knows you don't want to be thinking about your ankle. The chance to fidget with gear is reason No. 1,468 for why warmups rule.
I looked like I could skate just fine (as the reporter is typing "Bourne looks like he's skating fine") and I could once the adrenalin started flowing. But there was still a voice inside my head trying to protect me from further damage – an annoying, persistent voice. In short, I was taking jump shots instead of driving the net; I was dumping the puck in instead of trying to beat the D-man wide; I was doing positive, acceptable things, but not the things that made me effective.
For some grinders, getting three shots, making no turnovers and getting the puck deep is considered a good game. But for a goal-scorer, health (mental or otherwise) is all the more essential to succeeding at your job. You have to take the puck to trouble spots and be creative, something that's awfully hard to think about when sharp pains are a constant reminder that there are other, more basic ways to play the game. And sometimes, as I did, you become less effective.
When you reflect on the NHL's seemingly ridiculous injury policy (you can essentially watch a guy get a leg amputated on the rink, then see him listed with a lower-body injury) it's not hard to figure out why there's a reason the policy remains in place.
Related Links
More Justin Bourne blogs
All THN.com insider bloggers
Markov has knee surgery
NHL injury log
Get hockey on the go with THN mobile
Follow THN on Twitter
Become a friend of THN on Facebook
Agitators – whether it's Dustin Byfuglien or Matt Cooke – are looking for ways to help their teams on and off the scoresheet. As much as I hate to acknowledge their effectiveness, these guys will find your injury, pick at it and, over time, it saps your will to push back.
In my junior days, I had nearly broken my wrist in the first game of a playoff series against the Merritt Centennials. Merritt had the type of little punk you could backhand in front of his own parents and they'd shake your hand. Sure enough, he isolated my injury. Little slash. Tiny hack. Mini whack – for games on end. And before long, not only was I enraged, I didn't want to skate anywhere near the kid. I was like Daniel Sedin on David Bolland in Round 2: completely out of my element.
These nagging, pestering aches and pains make you a different player, not because you're consciously afraid of getting hit, but because you're somewhat aware there's more than one way to skin a cat, or in this case, play the game. You always have the option to play a safer way without getting singled out for hurting your team, but when "not hurting your team" is the goal, you've set the bar exceedingly low and your play suffers.
In the playoffs, we don't know who's affected on which teams, making playoff predictions a coin flip. There's so much parity in the NHL, if you suddenly have a healthy Dany Heatley and a hurt Jonathan Toews, we could have to switch the "disappointing" and "hero" labels the media has thus far brandished them with. We just never know.
And that sums up playoffs. You need a team deep enough to pick each other up when a few guys are hurt. You need a goalie to give you a chance every night and you need those difference-makers to stay healthy and shine.
Of the remaining teams, San Jose and Chicago have that mix. After that, it's a coin toss. So let's throw the boys onto the ice and find out who's hurt. And more importantly, who's healthy enough to lift 34.5 pounds of engraved silver and nickel over their head.
Print Email Justin Bourne's Blog: Conspiracy concoctions of crazy fans
The Kings lead the Canucks in their best-of-seven series 2-1 heading into Game 4 Wednesday night. (Photo by Harry How/Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-04-21 11:39:00
As Round 1 of the playoffs heats up, crazy things are starting to happen: Some fans are seeing their favorite team lose.
Inexplicably.
After how hard they've cheered and how hard their boys have worked, some team has had the audacity to finish with more goals at the end of a game than their team.
You know why, don't you? The league wants that other team to win. For TV ratings. To sell merchandise. For the same reason they rigged games last year so the league's precious golden boy, Sidney Crosby, could win a Cup.
These theories are from people who, as Wayne Campbell of Wayne's World used to say, have gone mental. Sure, the league would like its top moneymakers to do well, but not to the point of physically affecting games (which, by the way, they couldn't do if they tried).
TSN's Bob McKenzie recently did a nice, succinct job explaining kicked-in goals to the hockey masses. He covered what's allowed, what's not and a summary of accepted interpretations.
Bob doesn't read his comment section, because Bob's a smart man. I, on the other hand, am not so smart. Thus, I was privy to reading a comment section so devoid of a reasonable thought, it reminded me of watching Jersey Shore.
Of course, that's a blanket statement. There were a few reasonable nuggets mixed in. But in general, it seems that "The Hockey Dad" is a bit of a magnet for crazy. He probably spends half his day trying to stay calm enough to respond to the lunacy hurled his way on Twitter.
Now, I write a daily blog that has an inordinately reasonable reading base, so I'm well aware that not all hockey fans are completely mental. Most of us are all on the level. So when people think the league has influenced a call because it wants the Los Angeles Kings to beat the Vancouver Canucks in Game 3 of Round 1, it's bordering on white-jacket talk. It's a dude in a room making a call using his experience and opinion. You can think he sucks at it, but that doesn't make him a criminal.
It demeans what players do to imply that success comes from anything other than their own fitness, work ethic, decision-making and skills. Logically, if the NHL were able to manipulate things, the way online hockey fans imply, don't you think they'd start with the major hockey markets?
The New York Rangers last won the Cup in 1994 and have missed the playoffs eight times over that 16-year span.
Related Links
More from Justin Bourne
All THN.com insider blogs
Sharks beat Avs 2-1 in OT
Preds take 2-1 series lead on Hawks
Flyers down Devils 4-1
Pens top Sens 7-4
Wings shutout Coyotes 3-0
Get your hockey on the go with THN mobile
Follow THN on Twitter
Become a fan of THN on Facebook
The Toronto Maple Leafs are the biggest hockey market in the league and the last time they saw a single shift of post-season action was the 2003-04 season. As in six years ago, when the league still played such a gross style that its leading scorer at the time, Martin St-Louis, was the only guy to crack 90 points. Worse still, he led second place by seven points. That NHL seems like it died decades ago and we haven't seen a good Leafs team since.
And what about the players? You don't think they'd know if the league was up to some funny business? "Boy, it sure seems strange that we have so many home games this year," Crosby whispered to Malkin, who by some strange coincidence happens to be ON THE SAME TEAM.
But no – the guys in the action, working their hardest, dealing with the union reps, their agents, media and more have no idea the fix is in. Of course not. But you, catching the highlights on TSN or the NHL Network four nights a week, you've got it dialed in. Got it.
It's the instant credibility-forfeiting line, as far as I'm concerned. Turn your focus to the ice, my friends.
Refs make some bad calls like Dan Boyle makes some bad passes (and I write some bad columns). We all have off-days. A decision has to be made on every reviewed goal and both sides can't get their way. That's the beauty of sports. Black and white; a winner and a loser.
So, in black and white sports talk: McKenzie's column was a "winner."
Conspiracy theories are for losers.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Visors must be made mandatory now
Justin's Bourne knows first hand the impact of not wearing a visor; this happened on a Mike Ridley slapshot in a game of shinny .
Justin Bourne
2010-03-29 11:20:00
It is inevitable the NHL will eventually implement a mandatory visor policy. So what're we waiting for?
On Monday, March 22, Canadiens left winger Travis Moen had a 50-stitch zipper installed in his face that YKK could've sponsored. Luckily, his black cloud has a shining silver lining – he didn't lose his eyes.
Facial lacerations, scars and bruises are practically the calling card of NHL veterans. So much so that when some people meet a normal-looking hockey player post-career, they'll comment on it. You played hockey? I never would've guessed, you look fine!
There is, miraculously, a product that can eliminate half of these injuries, by covering half the face. Relative unknowns in the league have tried it with moderate success: Sidney Crosby, Alex Ovechkin, Pavel Datsyuk and Evgeni Malkin are among the few players in the test group, last I checked. I guess we'll have to wait until after their careers to find out if the visor is possible to adjust to.
I myself was once a be-shielded hockey player and my repeatedly broken nose is evidence that a visor does not guarantee safety. But the other half of the story is told in those shields I've had to throw into the trash due to puck marks and scratches that would've otherwise been shredding my all-too-pretty face.
I understand this wearing of the shield thing is not ideal – sometimes it fogs up, or gets scratched in just the wrong spot. And I can relate – I love the freedom I feel when I play pond hockey, because I'm not wearing hockey pants. But at what point does preference take a back seat to common sense? My preference is not to wear those irritating seatbelts, but I'd also prefer to not fly through a glass windshield if I get in a car accident.
I'm all for letting people make their own decisions, but I haven't heard of a single person protected by a state helmet law that was still bummed to be wearing one after an accident – and they didn't have the choice to wear one or not. It's just amazing we even have to make it a rule. Like Jerry Seinfeld said: "The idea behind the helmet law is to preserve a brain, whose judgment is so poor, that it doesn't even try to prevent the cracking of the head it's in." I can't believe we have to protect these guys from themselves.
If you're the owner of a team paying a million dollars for the services of a hockey player (like Moen), aren't you upset the guy is on the sidelines because he didn't take necessary precautions? As their boss, wouldn't you feel the need to mandate your employees wear safety goggles around dangerous, flying objects?
Related Links
More from Justin Bourne
See all THN Insider Blogs
Dixon: Scary Moen injury
Senators Watch: Kudos for eye protection
A Ref's Life: Visor vision
Get your hockey on the go with THN Mobile
Become a friend of THN on Facebook
Follow THN on Twitter
This is one of those things that's going to happen, because it can add safety to the game without taking anything from it. It's not a question of free will – these guys work for the NHL, so the league can make them do/wear whatever they want them to.
Some players even think the shields are an advantage because it's harder for defensemen and goalies to see your eyes and eyes matter, just ask anyone on the defensive side of the puck. The slightly tinted visor isn't a fashion statement like stupid yellow laces; it has a purpose.
So why wait? NHL rulings on topics like this one don't need to run through a slogging bureaucracy of red tape and signatures. Smart minds work there. Have a conversation and do the obvious – let the guys who currently choose to go no-visor stay as idiots. But don't let one rookie do it ever again. It's already mandatory in the American League and below, so make the move. I'm not even close to the first to suggest this.
Not only is it a step in the right direction, but once 90 percent of the league has visors on, I have to believe the stubborn mules would start to think twice about putting their faces out there while pucks hum by their chin on a nightly basis.
I had to wear a cage in college and learned the human brain is an amazing thing – it completely blocks the bars out. After five or six practices, I never thought about it again. When I got to make the switch to a visor in pro, the same thing happened and I'm by no means an anomaly. It will happen for everyone.
There's no need to play with fire on this one, our vision is just too important. A simple change needs to be made, NHL. Can't you see that clearly?
Justin Bourne's Blog: Banning head shots outright would be bad for hockey
Justin Bourne saw action in the AHL and ECHL after four years in the WCHA. (Photo by Allen Picard)
Justin Bourne
2010-03-10 19:05:00
The NHL's head-shot water has long since reached its boiling point and is fast approaching the overreaction phase. You know, the one where GMs evaporate the issue entirely to appease those of us clamoring for change.
And clamor, I have. I don't want to see a star like David Booth in Steve Maddens, I want him in Grafs. I don't need the fate of the Bruins affected by Marc Savard's absence, especially when that absence comes at the hands of a guy whose most important stat from a game is the coarseness of the sandpaper he played like.
But at the same time, we're talking about hockey.
If Rick Nash has his head down in the neutral zone, I want Dion Phaneuf to lay him out. And how's he supposed to do that with a clean shoulder check and avoid Nash's head if it's down?
There's a marked difference between skating straight ahead in the neutral zone and getting blasted by a defenseman in front of you, versus making a play while cutting across the offensive zone and getting blasted by a guy coming from behind you.
People love hockey cliches like "keep your head up," but they blanket too many hits with that one phrase – when the hockey purists say "cutting across the blueline is dangerous," it's supposed to be because the weak side D-man can step up and blow you apart if you're fumbling with the puck. Catching a guy on the backcheck and hitting him is fine, too, as long as the guy is skating towards the side-boards and the hit ends up straight-on.
Catching a guy on the backcheck who's moving towards the goal, cutting across and clipping his head doesn't fall under the "keep your head up" cliche we've come to know and love.
To me, whatever penalty the GMs commit to needs to include an emphasis on direction.
You can blow up anybody with the puck head on, that's a given. It's a part of our game. If the guy gets a concussion, we're still allowed to chime in, all together now: "Keep your head up!"
The intent of physical contact is to A) separate a guy from the puck and B) intimidate, so as to make your opponent rush decisions and make hesitant plays. Thus, if you were to be an advocate for the devil, you'd say those things can happen from a legal shoulder-to-head hit if a guy is foolish enough to have his noggin parallel to the ice.
Related Links
GM work towards head shot rule
More Justin Bourne Blogs
Justin Bourne Player Page
THN.com Blog: Suspending Cooke not the right move
Jason Cassidy's Blog: Head shot change must come from players
THN.com Blog: Unnecessary roughness a necessary penalty
Get hockey on the go with THN mobile
Follow THN on Twitter
Become a friend of THN on Facebook
I'm aware of the obvious; we want to avoid certain situations. We want to avoid a guy battling for the puck against the boards getting just his head hit by an incoming defender's shoulder. We want to avoid the sideswipe shoulder to the head, a la Mike Richards and Matt Cooke. If you break it down, we want to avoid head hits that aren't "player is moving forwards – bam – player is moving backwards."
Just don't take away the raw beauty of an open-ice hit.
Earlier this year, Jonathan Toews got absolutely shoulder-to-melon destroyed on a hit by Willie Mitchell, went to the bench and said "#&$%, I had my head down." If you watch the replay, Toews – an honest, hard-working player who knows he made a mistake – doesn't look up-ice so much as once. Why shouldn't he get hit when the puck comes his way?
I want to protect our players. But I want to protect our game, too.
A debate about changing a rule shouldn't be a one-sided "protect the children" style argument, where anyone who says anything to the contrary is persecuted – if that's what happens, we won't get the rule right.
And coming from the devil's advocate side, I'm confident in one thing. I know Brian Burke is arguing the same side I just laid out here. So, we can trust those guys to get it right, can't we?
Guys?
Anyone?
Justin Bourne's Blog: Why Canada wants the U.S. to lose and lose badly
Chris Pronger hits Ryan Kesler during USA's 5-3 win over Canada in the preliminary round of the Olympic tournament. (Photo by Bruce Bennett/Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-02-26 13:30:00
I'm a Canadian hockey fan and I'm going to explain to you why we want the U.S. team to suffer a horrifying, painful defeat at the hands of Canada in the gold medal game.
Actually, we don't even care if you make the gold medal game. We just want you to lose – and badly.
The reason for this is far less deep than people imply, yet there always seems to be some level of animosity whenever border-buddies present their side of the argument to the other.
Let's just lay the hockey cards out plainly: The U.S. wants Canada to lose. Canada wants the U.S. to lose. We all feel it, but the reasons people dredge up for explaining why are horribly misguided.
They cite someone booing someone's anthem (a dreadful, circular excuse for an argument), they cite population sizes, they cite respect, they cite any tiny shred of unreasonable logic they can get their hands on to defend the way they feel (one guy commented about how our "nothing" nation should show more respect because of the military protection the U.S. affords us. Whoaaa there, budzilla, it's a hockey game). All we all seem to know is, when we play each other, we "feel" like we'd like the opposing country's hockey team to have to get dressed outside, roll their ankles on the ice on the way in, get a puck in the chops in warmup and lose by 11.
Unfortunately, reasonable people have to cloak those feelings under the guise of respect, because we're not savages and it's just a game. Hey, I'll cheer for your country as long as you're not playing ours is cute, but also a lie. I want Finland to play like the wood chipper in the movie Fargo against the Americans Friday afternoon, take them in whole and spit them out the other side in pieces. Good hustle, U.S. – *butt slap* – now go play for bronze.
Y'know why? Because rivalries are based on location. It's just that crappy and simple and small. We have to deal with each other first, long before those other far-away nations. It has nothing to do with Americans are "this" and Canadians are "that." People just find their "we" and cheer against "them." It's only natural and it's part of the fun of sports. I don't wish Americans failure in politics, because we don't compete at that. In fact, we're kind of teammates there.
It's too simple, really. As a teen, your rival high school was always the closest (think Springfield versus Shelbyville). In hockey, the closer the team, the more intense the rivalry (Ooo, Kelowna vs. West Kelowna, these guys hate each other). It's amazing how petty we are – I remember going to a stand-up comedy show in Kelowna where the guy made jokes (that killed) along the lines of "how about drivers in Penticton? What, are their turn signals broken?" Of course, Penticton is 40 minutes away, on the same lake and zero percent different than Kelowna. But nope, "they" weren't "us" so haha, you bunch of losers.
Related Links
More Justin Bourne blogs
Campbell: Semifinal predictions
THN Olympic Central
Check out THN at the Olympics
Canadian women win third straight gold
Get hockey on the go with THN mobile
Follow THN on Twitter
Become a friend of THN on Facebook
I spent four years braving Alaskan winters in Anchorage to play college hockey and we hated no other team like we hated Fairbanks. We should've been the closest with them, shouldn't we have? Going through the same things, we could relate to each other. Yes, I agree, cold weather sucks. If a city were looking to date another city, we should've been holding hands with Fairbanks, not wishing permanent deformation on their children.
Hockey is part of our identity in Canada and it means next to nothing to the U.S.
For us, it's taking the most intense rivalry – the one we have with our closest high school – and making it about the thing that matters to us most. Rivalry + passion = BOOOO AMERICA! "America" being the name of your team, by the way. We aren't booing your nation.
The key point I'm making: It's not nation vs. nation like Canada-Russia 1972, or USA-Russia 1980. This is the backyard game of lawn darts with your brother that makes you want to lodge one in his chest out of frustration.
If you're better than us at the very thing we try at most, then we really lose. We have no chance at redeeming ourselves at the Summer Olympics in basketball. Or any other major sport for that matter. We cling to Justin Morneau, Steve Nash and Mike Weir because they're all we've got against your huge country. Those guys and sweet, sweet hockey.
So we muster up all the pride and hatred and vengefully spiteful evil and hope the U.S. bus crashes into a wayward black hole on the way to the game (injury-free, of course).
When it comes down to it, that imaginary border separates some minor legislative differences. I've lived all over the U.S. and in Canada during my life and as much as we love to talk about our differences in gross generalizations, I can assure you, the only thing any of us North Americans do differently involve some minor accents. Okay, Boston is major, but the rest of us are pretty much the same.
So we need this up north. I hate that the U.S. is becoming a legitimate hockey nation. This was our thing. Now you come along with your stupid stars, stripes and bandwagon fans and want to beat us? On our home turf?
Not a chance. Take off, eh.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Tips on how to recover the morning after
Justin Bourne has played parts of three ECHL season with Alaska, Utah, Reading and Idaho. (Photo by Allen Picard)
Justin Bourne
2010-02-15 10:05:00
If the recent photos of Patrick Kane and his Blackhawk buddies enjoying a night on the town taught us anything, it's that sometimes the boys like to go out and blow off a little steam.
For hockey players, their schedule is rarely conducive to fun. Most weekend nights, you earn your paycheck instead of spending it – even a good chunk of your Sundays. Mix in some travel and weekday games and your potential-night-out list looks pretty pathetic.
Worse still are the nights everyone else is having fun: Halloween, Super Bowl, New Year's Eve – I went nine straight New Years without being at a party during my playing days.
The point is, sometimes you have to pick some less-than-perfect nights to have a couple cocktails. Nights where you practice the next morning at the usual time, but you think it might be an easy day: a power play practice, a 'skill day' (code for no contact) or even a day-before-a-game practice (code for very minimal contact).
You certainly can't play or practice at your best if you go out too often – plenty of careers went sideways at the bar. But it's one of the places real friendships are formed on a team. Men don't open up all that easily, so a little social lubricant helps form bonds beyond the jersey.
I was always amazed when I started playing pro hockey at how the old dogs got through practice the morning after they rolled the dice on a few too many. There was a way they did it…it was just…how? The coach never called them out and sometimes I think those guys were still half-cut.
Don't get me wrong – if you're as committed to gin and tonic as you are to your conditioning, you will fail. I'm just saying, as I moved through my years of hockey, I learned a few desperate, borderline silly tricks from those guys to get through practice on the occasional painful morning. I thought I'd pass them down, just like they were passed to me.
1) Start by showing up for practice earlier, not later. Sacrificing 15 minutes of sleep seems like a horrific idea in the morning, but it does a couple things for you. It lets coach see you there early, so you're starting on the right foot. It gives you an excuse to look like death ("Ugh, it's so early") and it gives you time to prepare accordingly.
2) Shower at the rink. Drink vats of coffee and water and get something in your gut. Lay on the training room table with a magazine and your coffee and just regroup.
3) Hate some people. The guys you went out with, the one that ordered a round of shots, the weird backup goalie who looks so fresh because nobody called him. Do the hating in your head, of course. But trust me, the hating just feels right.
4) Grab a handful of Halls cough drops (preferably cherry, the original ones unfortunately smell like booze without your help) from the training staff. Have one in your mouth at all times – it's OK to be sick, it's not OK to be a mobile vodka humidifier for the rest of the room. Actually, put some Vicks VapoRub on, too. There's no way coach isn't going to smell you, dude. Dude, do not stand anywhere near coach. "What'd you guys do last night?"
Related Links
More from Justin Bourne
See all THN Insider Blogs
Justin Bourne Player Page
Get your hockey on the go with THN Mobile
Follow THN on Twitter
Become a fan of THN.com on Facebook
Although I use the term loosely, I would have been known as a 'skill guy' when I played. In thinking back about how I would get through practice in bad shape, I remembered to always pass the puck (eerily close to 'pass the buck'). The last thing you want is to miss the net by nine feet, or worse, score. Either way, you draw attention to yourself.
I contacted a buddy who is up and down between the American League and the ECHL – a buddy who plays a different style of game than me – for any tips I missed. I got back two of the most fun, informative paragraphs of all-time:
"Visine is a must. Don't breathe near coach. Stand in the back when they're drawing up drills. If you know you're going out, take GatorLytes from the rink so you have them on hand to drink before bed. Mix those in equal parts with Gatorade G2 and coconut water, with a scoop of Endurox, a couple shakes of salt and three Advil Liqui-Gels. That should take care of the physical part.
Depending on the level of hangover, coffee can be a killer or a best friend. Coffee breath can somewhat mask booze if there is a close encounter with coach, so go for it. I, personally, would say pass less. Simple hockey is always a safe copout. I think it's way more obvious when a skill guy is hungover (or still drunk). A Patron-induced backhand-sauce-turnover through the middle of the D-zone would even get a guy like Sidney Crosby an eyebrow raise. So if you're a skill guy, just practice like a grinder (pucks deep; middle-lane drive; hard, low shots from the outside). Grinders, like myself, luck out in this department. I haven't thrown a backhand sauce through the D-zone since ball-hockey-in-the-cul-de-sac days."
So there ya have it, friends. Feel free to use those on the way to work tomorrow (although, if you use my friend's method, you may need some supplies).
Those nights out are a huge part of team building, so it's always good for a laugh when you walk by a buddy who reeks of Vicks, halls and coffee.
Steve Yzerman once said to me, beer in hand: "moderation in everything." But Stevie Y was a savvy veteran by that point and he had long since found out the best cure for a hangover is to just not drink that much. It takes some time, but us young punks will get there, too. In the meantime, let me drop my own sage, captainly proverb on you:
Just like winning, fun takes planning and preparation. Stick to the program and you'll have success when you need it most.
Justin Bourne’s Blog: Inside player-referee relations
Adam Foote of the Colorado Avalanche argues a call of referee Wes McCauley. (Photo by Bruce Kluckhohn/NHLI via Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2010-01-15 09:25:00
The player-referee relationship is fraught with difficulties.
And, actually, it's kind of…awkward. For a number of reasons. One is it helps to be friends, but if it doesn't come naturally, you at least have to fake it. Everything we saw demonstrated in the Alex Burrows situation, we already knew. Being on the bad side of the ref is a bad idea, because he holds the "luck" in his pocket.
He can give a team the type of bad breaks that can kill it; like, say, a penalty in the last minutes of a game.
So, all players go through the smile-and-fake-laugh cycle necessary to at least seem civil. In turn, referees go through the same smile-and-fake-laugh cycle so not to appear Auger-esque. That's right Stephane, you're a verb now.
Pretty sure that ref Augered me last night.
For the most part, we're all buddies out there. Even the angry, soundless clips you see of players yelling at refs are generally pretty decent, honestly. Minus the blue language, of course, which flows naturally from both sides of the relationship.
"Garrett, there's no f---ing way you make that call on me after letting his slash go," would be a lot more common than the assumed and more direct, "F--- you, Garrett."
The higher the level I played at, the more reasonable referees got. They'll listen to you, speak in a controlled voice and actually think instead of getting defensive and reacting quickly, like, say, stubborn ECHL refs. In a nutshell, the best referees are confident in themselves.
The more reasonable and confident they are, the more you can joke with them and the more they talk during the play – an underrated quality in a ref. Some guys get so comfortable they'll have a running dialogue aimed at you mid-play, like a boxing referee.
Behind you, Bourno, I'm behind you. On the wall now, I'm on the wall…
A ref that catches a Burrows-like embellishment might scold him mid-play.
No way Alex, no way, get up – as in, I wouldn't call that if I was reffing little kids, if you don't get up soon I'm calling a dive.
Dialogue goes back and forth throughout the whole game. At the lower level, where video replay isn't around, they'll ask for honesty after a goal (which leads to its own problems):
You tip that Bournie?
Of course I did.
And the better you know the ref, the easier it is to respect him and his authority. It's a lot easier to play the game when you can speak like an adult to the guy between whistles or after the period.
You realize I was hit into their 'tender last period, right Stripes?
You just stay outta that crease, Bourne.
Refs unwilling to engage with the players don't advance and refs who get too involved (Auger) see their performance suffer.
Like a good babysitter or parent, they have to be able to joke and laugh, but also maintain their status as the one "in charge." Great that we can laugh, but when I say it's time to get to the box, it's time to get to the box.
Related Links
More from Justin Bourne
A Ref's Life: Communication
Proteau: Don't overblow Auger
Campbell: Auger must speak out
NHL fines Canucks' Alex Burrows for comments about referee to media
Canuck Burrows' accusations against ref Auger a sticky problem for NHL
Get your hockey on the go with THN Mobile
Follow THN on Twitter
Become a fan of The Hockey News on Facebook
Some players – and it appears Burrows is one of these – don't grasp the fragile relationship we share with the officials. A penalty isn't a personal slight; it's a penalty because you did something illegal. The same way we sometimes miss an open net, refs sometimes miss obvious calls. And, if we were on the ice for the whole game, we'd have a lot more opportunities to miss open nets.
It doesn't mean you can't tell them they're wrong – in fact, I encourage it, as long as it's done with a certain level of respect.
You missed that one, bud, watch the video after the game. My stick never even touched him.
But there's always something wrong with going ballistic.
The variable that can ruin the whole relationship is players' attempts to draw penalties, because refs take that as a personal slight, which it isn't. The dive is one thing and the embellishment another. I'm not opposed to the latter, as sometimes you need to demonstrate your opponent is being careless with his stick – it only makes sense to try and earn your team a power play the way you try to earn a goal – but the outright dive is cheating. I realize it's a grey area either way, but that's the stance I take.
Auger obviously took the Burrows play personally and when the league viewed Auger's call as an error, he took it as a diss from Alex.
Referees need to know that trying to draw a penalty is no more personal than them calling a penalty on us. In some twisted way, we're both just doing our jobs.
My guess is the Burrows/Auger situation resulted from the lowest common denominator being involved on both ends. Both Burrows and Auger didn't take the events that happened as people doing their jobs, but rather as personal slights.
By all logic, the league should clean this up quickly, discipline them both and be on with the next game. It's hardly insight into the league's major problems, but rather just two fairly unintelligent kids playing in the livingroom who had to call their mom to settle their differences.
They need to grow up and we need to move on. Most NHL refs are great.
Print Email Justin Bourne’s Blog: Psycho parents ruin the game for kids
Justin Bourne had 31 goals and 84 points in four years at the University of Alaska-Anchorage.
Justin Bourne
2009-12-29 10:20:00
Sports parents, in general, have a tendency to take their child's sporting life too seriously. These hyper-involved "helicopter parents" (a term used to describe the constant hovering) frequently suck the fun out of kicking a ball, chasing a puck or eating dandelions and picking your nose while wearing a jersey.
Hockey is awful for this.
Having played the sport myself, I thought I saw the worst of the worst. Then I got a job working at a sports store owned by the president of minor hockey in my home town and was witness to the backdoor-campaign attempts of parents with children younger than 10.
There was the Dad who, between summer and winter hockey, had his kid on the skating treadmill down at our city's new training facility. For those of you who haven't seen one, a skating treadmill is a huge plastic-floored version of a normal treadmill they pulled from the depths of hell, put on an incline and loaded with harness straps. It's used for improving cardio and building strength, both goals it easily achieves.
What it also does, is suck gigantic eggs.
It sucks in every conceivable way and in my own opinion (and, from what I've heard, the opinion of every person who isn't selling them), it isn't great for your stride.
"The kid loves it, he just can't get enough," the Dad would tell me when I'd ask some questions.
Then there's the Dad who comes in around close, with a case of beer and "just wants to BS." Before a top can be popped, the idle chitchat is on the upcoming tryouts. And he wants to know where his kid fits in.
"But he's better than that Smith kid, right? That kid doesn't know which way he's going half the time."
Then there's the burning mad Dad, who just bought his son top-of-the-line skates and a couple Easton Synergies, looking for the "president" to straighten out the latest slight his son has received from what, in his opinion, appears to be an intentional campaign to keep the man's family down.
"F*** him and his personal agenda…"
And it's not just Dads anymore. Moms would flood into the store around hockey season, looking to buy the best skates possible for their little Gretzkys. We didn't carry Bauer the first year the store opened, as another dealer in town had the exclusive rights to sell their lines. Parents of kids without full sets of adult teeth were furious that we had the audacity to run a hockey shop without Bauer skates. What kind of a sham were we trying to pull, anyway? We couldn't fool them with our silly RBK witchcraft.
One Mom brought in her very own skate-measuring tool, the same one we used to make sure the edges on the blades were of equal height. We did a premier sharpening job, of course, but the Mom felt inclined to purchase her own tool and measure the edges before paying for the sharpening, just to be sure.
Eight-year-old kids are worried about the hollow in their blades? I'm skeptical. I'm skeptical because Jarome Iginla brought his skates in for me to sharpen that same summer and didn't know what hollow his skates were done to.
Related Links
More from Justin Bourne
Simon: 'Joy' of tyke hockey
Kennedy: Wrong way to raise a player
Read more from THN's Insiders
Campbell: New book gives behind-the-scenes look at minor hockey
Proteau: Playing for family and friends
Lucic: The importance of family
Get hockey on the go with THN Mobile
Become a THN fan on Facebook
Follow THN on Twitter
Me: "How do you want them done?"
Him: "Um, I dunno, regular?"
Me, slightly flummoxed: "Hmm."
I'm sure it was just that his trainer knows his needs better than he knew his own, but still, he genuinely didn't know.
What this means is, one of the greatest players in the world isn't sure, but the eight-year-old's Mom needs to measure her son's edges. Got it.
So what does this create?
Misery.
It creates pure, awful, misery, for a kid who just likes to play some puck.
Nobody likes being told what to do and most people feel the need to rebel against something their parents pushed. I can't think of a quicker way to get your kid to quit at 13 than by making his on-ice performance directly related to the type of off-ice relationship he has with his parents.
I never had a clue when I played well or not, because my parents told me I did every single game. Honesty is probably the best policy, but what the crap did they care if I sucked at hockey? They were paying a fortune (as all hockey parents do) in gear and fees so I could play, so they wanted me to enjoy it.
And so, I grew to love the game in my own right. I liked scoring goals. I liked getting assists. I just liked hockey.
Not once in my life was I worried about my parent's reaction to how I played. I wanted to impress them, but knew I didn't have to.
For parents, sports are a fertile ground for teaching points. You can use them to explain to your child "what you did to that kid was wrong and here's why." Or "it was great that you shared the puck on that play. Teamwork is effective." Passing the puck doesn't emasculate your son, Dads. It makes them better.
We've all heard horror stories about the kids afraid to get in the car with their Dad after the game; how the Dad always yelled and got upset when his child screwed up. I'd quit in a heartbeat if playing the game made my life that miserable.
No kid whose age is in the single digits should be playing hockey in the summer. Kids need well-rounded life experiences to learn to think creatively, play effectively and appreciate the game.
They're still kids, remember? Let's let them have a childhood.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Entitlement vs. reality
Justin Bourne played 16 games for the Bridgeport Sound Tigers in 2007-08, scoring two goals and five points. (Photo courtesy Justin Bourne)
Justin Bourne
2009-12-08 12:15:00
In every small town of every hockey-playing country, some kid is chucking up ridiculous numbers. Like, five-goals-a-game numbers. At least.
And it's only five because the coaches have tried everything they can to limit the mini-stud's dominance – they've got him playing defense, playing wrong-handed, playing blind-folded, just anything so the other kids can play. Other parents paid for their kids to play hockey and they want their little guys to touch the puck on occasion, too.
So the mesmerizing mini-Malkin moves up the minor levels quick. He starts playing with older kids and he's still good. Simple as that. He can't explain it. But he ends up playing at the highest level a kid of his age and size is allowed.
He starts to get the free gear, the praise and the type of coaching that comes with the best teams. And he gets even better.
At some point, he starts to actually believe he's the second coming of Sidney Crosby and he gets to turn off the rest of the real world and enjoy the ride that is his blessed little life. Bantam draft, selected, boom. Junior hockey, recruited, boom. And maybe, if he's extra special, he gets to miss a class or two that other kids have to attend.
Before he knows it, his name is included in the NHL draft…not as high as he'd like, though. He played against one guy who was drafted in the first round and that guy was brutal. Pfft. What a joke.
And just like that, management's little nightmare is born.
But this is how it works in all sports. You take the best players from all the cities and towns and villages and subdivisions, states and provinces. You lump them together, pare them down and take the best from each. Professional sports are made up of people who have grown up hearing they're the best at what they do. And to some extent, they are.
How we get from there to clips of media blowups where baseball's Randy Johnson is yelling at a media member "Don't you talk back to me!" is completely insane.
Somewhere along the line, the kid grew from confident to full belief in himself, to belief that no matter what, he can't mess this up. He's officially entitled.
Confidence is a necessity for athletes – they're frequently challenged, they need to take chances and they need to genuinely believe they can beat their opponent. In most cases, players are extremely confident, but by the time they move up a few levels, they realize: Wow, I'm not so "special" after all. A lot of people were given this gift. It takes an intelligent person to make that connection and adapt to be better. Players such as Rod Brind'Amour and Michael Peca are great examples of guys who came up as goal-scorers and developed into valuable two-way players to keep their dream alive.
And realizing your gift isn't "special" isn't a bad thing – you can still be an amazing, hard-working, talented athlete – but for most non-Ovechkin/Crosby types, you'd have to be a fool to think you're a one-of-a-kind shining star for the sporting world to cherish.
Related Links
More Justin Bourne blogs
All THN.com insider blogs
Justin Bourne player page
Sidney Crosby player page
Alex Ovechkin player page
Get hockey on the go with THN mobile
Become a friend of THN on Facebook
Follow THN on Twitter
Yet, like in every profession, there are the fools.
The dark side of the pro sports empire is made up of a group of people who are talented, but were overhyped for years and got stuck on that. They're somehow unable or unwilling to see their gift is not as unique as their parents thought it was at eight years old and that not everybody passing them by is getting "lucky" (note: the "greatness" they demonstrated as a youth often has something to do with being eight inches bigger than other kids, thanks to that early growth spurt).
This sense of entitlement occasionally turned me off one of the best places for conversation on earth: the dressing room. Between watching these "coulda-been-a-contendas" talk down to the training staff and hearing their stories of stolen success every time they got in the same room as a beer, I'm left bitter. It's always the same thing:
• Our (free) post-game meal sucks.
• You did a crappy job sharpening my skates (for less than minimum wage, if you broke it down hourly).
• It sucks being at the airport two hours early (for our paid-for flights to go see a new city and play a sport for a living).
And you know what? It's often the same thing from the guys who coulda been a contender, but had this attitude sour their reputation. The big picture is entirely foreign to those blinded by the glory of their own being.
We all bitch because we're bored, because we're tired, or because, let's face it: bitching is fun. You can't take that away from our culture, or we'd all kill ourselves. Or each other. Or worse: both.
But the guys who sincerely mean it do an unjust job of representing the majority of players who've figured it out, though the jackasses seem to be the ones people often remember. Other sports have their problems and prima donnas, too. People aren't perfect and for that, they are to be forgiven. What's unforgivable in hockey is the sense of entitlement kids pick up from being good while they're young.
So congrats on your kid doing great, moms and dads of towns A through Z. Now it's your job, as a parent, to make sure the kid knows "hockey skill" is of secondary importance to things like "reality."
Justin Bourne’s Blog: When will players speak out against head shots?
David Booth of the Florida Panthers lies on the ice after a hit by Mike Richards of the Philadelphia Flyers. (Photo by Len Redkoles/NHLI via Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2009-11-18 09:44:00
The question of the day isn't "what's taking the NHL so long to act on head shots?" It's "what's taking the players so long?"
Clearly, hockey players are aware the growing highlight reel of head shots has caused a bit of a kerfuffle. Most guys have sampled a concussion or two themselves and don't care to try the latest flavor. So why don't we see anyone passing up the chance to fold an opponent like a pretzel?
A major reason brings the blame back to the mindset of the guys signing the paychecks. GMs love physical players. Players know that a knockout hit can earn you a reputation. It can also earn a three-game suspension, but that's a small price to pay.
The risk/reward ratio provides zero reason to not pummel the vulnerable player. You make some guy yard-sale his gear and your team loves it; it builds momentum. If the angle is funny and the guy gets hurt, you take your three games and collect your "edgy-player" raise come the off-season. It's not like anyone avenges an injured teammate like they did in the '80s, anyway, so charge away.
The NHL could step in and give the headhunters some real punishment. The game will never get worse by punishing the idiots. Very few events suffer when you eliminate the people who pee in the pool.
But what amazes me is players seem to be waiting on the NHL to dispense justice on out-of-control headhunters. I'm sure these same skull-crushers have watched teammates struggle after concussions, needing a three-hour nap after a three-minute bike ride due to brain trauma. Why don't they seem to care about the whole "causing brain bruising so bad that people fit to climb mountains can't climb stairs" thing?
So it comes back to the same question: Where's the uproar from the players? Guys can't want it in the game.
I understand the argument about protecting yourself as a player. I've been one. The only cliche more overused than "keep your head up" in hockey is "keep your head down" in golf. But both are grounded in logic. In hockey, guys do need to stay out of dangerous situations, or occasionally, they deserve to get run over.
But as the aggressor, you can see when the guy you're about to hit doesn't know it and you need to do your best to avoid the head. That's all we're asking here. You can still stop a guy's momentum and separate him from the puck without separating his brain's communication from his body. This doesn't need to be happening so often.
Related Links
More from Justin Bourne
See all THN Insider Blogs
Proteau: NHL must punish dangerous hits
Proteau: Head shot hypocrisy
Campbell: Head-shot rule? Don't bet on it
NHL general managers come up with plan to address the issue of headshots
Get your hockey on the go with THN Mobile
Become a friend of THN on Facebook
Follow THN on Twitter
Change tends to come like Game 7 of a playoff series – "if necessary." As team defense improved, we made goalie gear smaller to avoid soccer scores. And soon we'll be adding "when hockey players got as big as football players, only faster and on a hard surface, we had to protect them," because we do.
These guys play 82 games going Mach 6 on slippery concrete. Injuries are going to happen. I want to see guys blown up, too, but I want them to legally crisscross some opponent's shoulders, not the wiring in his brain.
Damn near every buddy I have comes from hockey and I've yet to speak with one who thinks a "please try to avoid that human's motherboard with your shoulder" penalty is a bad idea. The word "concussion" is so common now it goes by like "sprain," but I can assure you, it's not the same thing.
Is there someone speaking up in defense of head checks? Where's the other side of this argument? By not acting on these violent hits, we're tailoring our game for more Jarkko Ruutus and less Marian Gaboriks. Which direction do we want to go?
Someday, rules will be in place that will make it the referee's call. And at some point, players will decide the knockout blows are not worth the risk.
But until that rule goes into effect and players open their eyes to what needs to change, I'll steal a line I heard nearly every game on the bench – NHL, players… what're you, blind?
Bourne's Blog: Life after hockey
Justin Bourne played 16 games for the Bridgeport Sound Tigers in 2007-08. (Photo courtesy of Justin Bourne)
Justin Bourne
2009-10-06 10:26:00
It's a weird feeling walking into a hockey rink these days.
It's like walking into your old apartment and remembering the person you used to be.
There's where we had some laughs. There's where I felt some pain. There's where I made decisions that affected my life.
I went to the Coyotes-Kings exhibition game, the first game I'd been to since a puck hit my jaw in December – a puck that forced my teeth wired shut for almost seven weeks, resigned me to the couch for months, and incidentally launched my writing career.
Man, that slapshot hurt.
But being at this game hurts in a different way. For the first time I'm watching a hockey season start without me, with uncertainty, excitement and potential buzzing throughout the rink like a skate sharpener. And just then, the questions started creeping up on me: am I really on this side of the glass?
In a small way I can relate to Brett Favre: I can still play, so why shouldn't I?
And I guess the answer is: because at some point, you have to grow up and make the right decisions. It's just hard.
I stopped playing the game because I felt the dream slipping. The physical damage done to your body is easy to justify if you play in the NHL. But can you justify it if you're earning a modest living playing in the American League or ECHL? Without the big bucks to lean on, won't you still find yourself waking up one summer with that inevitable question:
Now what?
You're at square one again. What do you want to be when you grow up? Playing in the NHL means you never have to answer that question, but I realized I would have to. I made what I thought was the smart choice. Doesn't it make sense to start that second career younger than older? I obviously thought so.
Choosing between practicality and passion? It's a harder decision than people realize. In trying to make the right life decisions, I gave up that passion. Watching this game now isn't making it any easier for me. What have I done?
When you give up your dream – not because you have to, but because it is the right decision –how are you supposed to cope?
As players, we continually evaluate our teammates and our competition saying, "he's not that good" under our breath and to each other because "I" need to be better than "him" to survive. Now, as a writer, all-too-often I find myself saying "he's not that good" only to get responses from readers in stats, dimensions and potential.
I've never been a guy prone to negativity – "he's not that good" is just fully burned into my competitive psyche. To be good, you learn to think you're the best.
I poured hour upon hour of after-practice time skating into off-hand one-timers. Do you have any idea how hard that shot is? Four years of college I worked on that after practice with my roommates Chad Anderson (past season: Hamilton Bulldogs, AHL), Charlie Kronschnabel (past season: Iowa Chops, AHL) and Nick Lowe (past season: full-on scientist).
Related Links
More Justin Bourne blogs
All THN insider blogs
NHL schedule
Become a friend of THN on Facebook
Follow THN on Twitter
And what good is that skill now? What good was taking rocket passes on my backhand? Toe-pulling the puck? What about the hours of conditioning?
It feels like time wasted. Maybe writing is my attempt to justify the hours I put in, one at a time, for almost 27 years. The funny part is, I can't let go of all those power skating schools I begrudgingly attended instead of playing golf during the summer months. I knew that was a waste of time. You bend YOUR knees, buddy.
So I sat down at the game and ordered a beer. I stood and listened to the anthem – watched the players rock in anticipation. I looked up and watched a couple players I knew from junior, college and pro. He's not that good.
I played on my BlackBerry. I drank my beer. I'll never be able to get into it like a fan.
Ignorance is bliss, and for me, the game is tainted by knowledge. That guy isn't mad, he gets paid to enforce. That guy skating really hard? The "buzz saw" that fans love? He's over-pursuing, making his teammates have to compensate because he's out of position. I'll never be able to cheer for guys I competed against. It's like admitting defeat.
Something about my separation from the game makes me numb toward it now. Don't get me wrong – I was ready for this change. I'm ready to live in one city, in one home. But it doesn't mean I won't miss that other life.
My Dad spent 14 seasons in the NHL, then made the mistake of trying to fully leave the game when he retired. It took years for him to realize that hockey was the piece he was missing. I'm not making that mistake. It was good for me to face the game head-on, but I realized one thing: this is going to be harder than I thought.
Some day every player has to leave the game and we'll all experience the change differently.
For now, I'm sticking with "numb." The 2009-10 season began without missing me, without missing a beat and with a little dust in my eye before the puck dropped.
But I'm ready now. It's time to drop the puck on career No. 2.
'Cause those other sports writers out there? They're not that good.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Put it on the board, Yes!
Justin Bourne spent time with the Reading Royals and Idaho Steelheads last season. (Photo by Allen Picard)
Justin Bourne
2009-09-02 11:08:00
For two decades Pete Rose has been blackballed for gambling on his own baseball team.
Professional hockey players literally do it every single game.
It's an accepted part of dressing-room culture, like heaping verbal abuse on the nearest human in range. The difference between Charlie Hustle and the hockey hustle is that when hockey players put "Money on the Board," everybody wins.
Before each game, a few players will saunter up to the dry-erase board in silence and put their jersey number down, with a dollar amount beside it. It means "If we win, I'll donate this number of dollars to the team pot."
#12 - $50
For most games, there are three or four numbers on the list. For bigger games, the list of participants gets longer. If the game is big enough, even the coaches might put some money on the board.
The dollar amounts differ depending on which alphabet you use – in the ECHL, most guys put up $25 to $50; in the American League, $50-$100; in the NHL, the numbers just get weird.
One rule is consistent: You're better off hitting the starting goalie in the collarbone during warmup than writing something as offensive as $10 on the board.
"Oooh, there's something to play for fellas. T-Rex is risking his next paycheck on a win! I'm definitely blocking shots now…"
If you're new to the club the rules can seem a bit dicey, but it is accepted that the newest member of the group is expected to part with a chunk of their not-yet-earned money. Doe-eyed rookies who are new to pro hockey – and, therefore, to Money On The Board – always end up being major donors to the team party fund.
"*cough*"
"Isn't it someone's first game in here tonight?" one of the veterans will ask before a rookie's first game. Guys are almost fully dressed before the game when these hints start coming out.
"*cough*"
"Nobody's first game in here, eh?" he will continue, waiting for the rookie to put some money on the board. Usually the rookie's stall-mate has to let the kid know under his breath why he's the focal point of the room. And then the rookie is appalled and doesn't believe he has to pay to play.
He does.
Here are the basic rules for mandatory MOTB contributions:
• First professional game. Damn right you're putting on money on the board. And it better not be the team minimum.
• First game with a new team. Just got dealt? Make yourself at home. Contribute to the fund.
• You are playing against your former team. They didn't want you. You want to beat them, right? Prove it.
• Your family is in the stands. They drove all this way to see you. Don't you want to motivate the boys?
• Your girlfriend is here. Awww, isn't that sweet. Look at you, Tiger. You big ladies' man, you. Seriously, put some money on the board.
Related Links
More Justin Bourne blogs
All insider bloggers
Get hockey on the go with THN mobile
Check out Loose Change
And the fun part is, the money doesn't have to go to the team – it can go to an individual. Unless specified, the money is earned by a team win. But when specified, it can go towards any of the following MOTB abbreviations:
• GWG: Game Winning Goal. A nice bonus to go with winning the game and scoring.
• GTG: Game Tying Goal. Usually added between the second and third period of a game if the team is losing. Always makes for a good silence breaker in the room.
• FG: The game's first goal. Looking for that jump-start.
• SO: A ballsy abbreviation to write. Aimed specifically at the goalie. I can't even type it out loud for fear of the wrath of goaltenders everywhere.
Or, you can always write something completely random, based on the specific team you're playing that night.
Hockey players might have short attention spans, but they have long memories. Sometimes when an opponent runs your goalie and the game is close, retaliation has to wait. You'll hear coaches and captains alike yelling, "We play them again, settle down, we play them again!"
"Bounty" is a bad word, but you can imagine what might show up on the board the next time that team is in town.
The money is not the important part of the exercise. "Money on the Board" is something that unites teammates.
Sometimes, early in the season, it's hard to get everyone pulling in the same direction. Jobs aren't secure, friendships have yet to be formed. This loosens things up a bit.
Plus, the real bonus for the core guys who make it through the year comes when there's thousands of dollars in the pot for the end-of-season wind-up.
On payday, the team "treasurer" makes his rounds, making you instantly regret you ever thought putting money on the board was a good idea.
And for those rookies, collecting their first paycheck as a professional, nothing makes the guys laugh harder than finding hundreds of ways to funnel it back into the party pot. Especially for those young bucks making maximum cap in the NHL.
"*cough*"
"Isn't it somebody's second game in here?"
Print Email Justin Bourne’s Blog: The summertime grind
Justin Bourne played 16 games with the American League's Bridgeport Sound Tigers in 2007-08 (Photo courtesy of Justin Bourne)
Justin Bourne
2009-07-21 09:35:00
Alright, so it's summertime.
It's the absolute slowest point of all things hockey – the draft has happened, free agency's over and even Sean Avery hasn't done anything newsworthy in weeks.
As hockey drifts from the fans' minds, it's starting to pour into the players.
This is the exact time of the year when guys start to think about gearing up. Most of the guys I skate with in the summer stop drinking come Aug.1, right through 'til the end of training camp.
This grind, the one that takes place in July and August between your ears, might be tougher to fight through than the playoff push.
It's sunny and bright, the patios are bumpin' and girls' attire is barely appropriate. How do you talk yourself into going indoors to a gym? How about into an arena?
The motivation in the playoffs is obvious: You've come this far, it's Lord Stanley's Cup and the year is almost over.
But for many teams, the summer grind is when Stanley Cups are won. I know that's a gross cliché, but starting the year in tip-top shape is absolutely crucial to personal success throughout the season.
More often than not, injuries happen when you're tired – you lessen the odds of that happening by coming to camp in shape. A good early showing can move you up on the depth chart, past another forward on the team. That can mean better linemates, which can mean more points, which can mean more money. Being underprepared can have the opposite effect.
From the fringe NHLers on down, most players don't know what city they'll be living in, who their friends will be, or if they'll be in good enough shape come training camp. Every day you're striving to be stronger, faster and better, but you're never quite sure if it's going to be enough."
Related Links
More from Justin Bourne
View all THN Insider Blogs
THN.com Free Agent Central
As a fringe guy, I was on the ice all year. Maybe I took three weeks off after the season, but there I'd be three weeks later, out of guilt, at a game of drop-in, co-ed hockey, sweating out the post-season parties.
As not-so-much-fringe-guys, fellow Kelowna shinny-ers Dany Heatley and Brett McLean don't so much as look at ice until August.
And they don't do it in an I'm-so-good-I-don't-have-to kind of way, but in an I-work-so-hard-off-the-ice-because-the-talent-is-clearly-there-on-it type of way.
Heatley is a great guy, but just an awful shinny player. I'm convinced he should be out with me all summer. Last summer, during his first time playing, he stepped on the puck while on a breakaway and fell. He's the only guy I know willing – no, dying – to take full-on ceiling-scraping slapshots at any 15-year-old female goaltender we've commissioned to come out so we could avoid the misery that is shooter-tutordom.
All I'm saying is, while the hockey fan hibernates, the hockey player is on the move. They're in their toughest fight of the year – the one versus summer.
Beach vs. squats. Boat vs. lunges. Golf course vs. spin class.
It's an investment you have to make to succeed. Make the deposits now and the withdrawals happen come April. And ask any of the Penguins – the dividends can be pretty damn sweet.
Print Email Justin Bourne’s Blog: The art of slump-busting
Sidney Crosby has 29 points in 20 playoff games, but has only one with a minus-2 rating through three Stanley Cup final games. (Photo by Jim McIsaac/Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2009-06-05 09:50:00
Slumps are a bitch.
After Game 2, the media tried to proclaim Sidney Crosby's two-game drought a slump. It isn't. The guy hit posts, pads, pants, people and pillows in Games 1 and 2, but the damn thing just wouldn't go in. As I've been listening to the sports networks use his stats as the story, rather than to illuminate the story, I got thinking about actual slumps.
Did I mention they're a bitch?
Attempting to break out of a slump is freaking impossible, and, as a player, if I could give you a successful method, I'd be a rich man.
I went through stretches of great success in college and pro hockey, tying together point streaks of double digit games on multiple occasions. As you may have guessed, I also went through stretches of great misery, tying together streaks of wall-punching and pulling my hair out at the root for double-digit games…on multiple occasions.
The standard song and dance about slump breaking is, in my opinion, what prolongs them.
"Keep it simple. Shoot from everywhere."
Garbage.
Nothing twists the knife in your already-stabbed confidence like a goalie casually gloving down your shot from left field that you only took because technically, that spot by the boards at the blueline fell under the category of "everywhere."
The only known antidote for the slump sickness, of course, is to work so hard Rod Brind'Amour looks lazy.
It takes a couple games of driving the net, hovering around the crease and generally playing violently before a shot from the point redirects off the bridge of your nose and goes in for you to get back to normal.
As far as slumps go, a few games wouldn't be a huge deal. The problem is there are stages of slump denial, which tend to add extra games to it before you realize you're mired in one.
For starters, there's the 'Bad Luck' phase:
"Ha, what a lucky save."
"I can't believe that hit both posts."
"If another puck bounces over my stick around the net I'm going to sacrifice a goat to the hockey gods."
The 'Blame Placing' phase is only a few steps behind. Sadly, some players never get out of this one. They're convinced their whole career was on the same path as Sid the Kid had they not had this awful nine-year stretch of bad luck.
Related Links
More Justin Bourne blogs
All THN.com insider blogs
Sidney Crosby player page
Playoff scoring leaders
"My linemates are awful."
"I'm not getting enough power play time."
"This ice is horrific."
As the sad, slumpy realization sinks in, superstition becomes the only friend to turn to.
You start taping your stick with white instead of black. You stop playing two-touch soccer with the boys before the game. You even write something different on the knob end of your stick, something usually along the lines of 'WWJD.'
As the slump shovel hits bedrock, thoughts on the home front start to drift, potentially all the way into, "maybe I'm just not good enough" territory, highlighted by such classics as:
"I really should finish that degree."
"I could probably work for my sister-in-law's husband."
And:
"#$%$ @#!$#ing &%@#!"
But just then, just as you're about to re-drywall your bedroom and commit career suicide, a puck goes in. And not a two-on-one, fake-pass snapper off the post snipe-type goal. Always some dumb, "I can't believe it was that easy" freebie-type goal.
And so the pendulum swings.
When I think about real slumps, I can't imagine The Kid is too concerned about his play. Hard work is in that guy's bone marrow. I highly doubt he's rounding up too many goats these days.
In fact, if I had to guess, I'd wager "I really should finish that degree" has never formed as a sentence during any of his mini-slumps.
I have a feeling Sid's mental state is juuust fine.
Justin Bourne’s Blog: Youth movement bad for beards, great for game
Pittsburgh's Sidney Crosby might have trouble getting a good playoff beard going, but he's had an easy time finding the back of the net in these playoffs. (Photo by Bruce Bennett/Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2009-05-20 11:05:00
What part of the NHL playoffs should I write about for my next THN blog?
Should I write about how the Star Wars-worthy epic playoff series between the Washington Ovechkins and the Pittsburgh Crosbys dropped like the stock market the second Simeon Varlamov landed back on Earth?
Nah. That's been done.
Should I write about how the entire city of Vancouver is still going through breakup-like symptoms after another year of the Canucks winning back their hearts, just to stomp on them once again?
Probably no need to put salt in that healing wound.
Or maybe I should write about the rebirth of skill, high-scoring games and scintillating performances by legends in the making.
Nooope.
Beards.
More accurately, scruff, and what it tells us about the shape of the NHL.
Has it ever been more apparent that the league's base of stars is just coming out of prenatal care than in this year's second round? The only reason a Sidney Crosby interview is remotely interesting these days is because you can place bets on what year his mutton chops will connect to his Abe Lincoln fuzz (I refuse to address that as a mustache).
Patrick Kane? Ol' Geno Malkin? These guys have faces smoother than Matthew McConaughey on Xanax. I only get two weeks into the playoffs before I start looking like Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite and these guys are genetically exempt from having to look stupid.
Remember the days when men like Clark Gillies were in playoffs? Grizzly Adams watched him during the '83 Cup run and thought, "Damn, that guy needs a trim."
That whole Islanders team looked as though they'd been stranded on a desert island with a volleyball for a half-dozen years by the time they hoisted the Cup. I guarantee you the shampoo consumption of that dressing room in the final ate into the Islanders' bottom line that season.
For some reason, we tend to associate manliness with hairiness – and I feel like you need to be a pretty physically developed man to play in the NHL. So what the hell is going on?
Evolution? Are we in the stages of completing our journey to hairlessness, finally distancing ourselves from the apes?
Related Links
Read all Justin Bourne Blogs
View all THN Insider Blogs
THN.com Playoff Center
The Straight Edge: Playoff beards reach new heights in 2009
The players who boast the highest quality welding masks sport them with a peppered grey tone – guys like Bill Guerin and Scott Niedermayer, who was the recipient of the Harry Neale quip: "Is that a beard, or is he eating a muskrat?"
So where am I going with this?
There's potential for growth – but in a different way.
What an amazing sign for the NHL that in the midst of the best playoff season I've watched, the stars of the show have voices that occasionally squeak. The rest of the sports world that had so feverishly written off the NHL post-lockout is waking up to the game's well-refined product.
ESPN's Around The Horn and Pardon The Interruption have both regularly included hockey in their topic base, including a unanimous agreement on the ATH panel that the NHL playoffs are better than the NBA's this year. They used words like compelling, dramatic and thrilling.
Aside from the well-discussed egg laid by the Capitals in Game 7 against the Pens, this season has done nothing but increase fan interest and hope - from sporting a young cast of characters who are successfully leading their teams deep into the playoffs, to the type of head-to-head battles the NHL would punch their own mothers to make happen.
Though the beards look sparse, the future looks full for professional hockey.
And if I could give any advice to those stock-market strugglers out there, it'd be this: Pull your money out of Gillette and sink it into the NHL. You'll probably shave yourself a few bucks.
Justin Bourne’s Blog: Playoffs weed out Post-Whistle Phonies
The NHL playoffs always feature plenty of post-whistle action. (Photo by Bruce Bennett/Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2009-04-28 11:04:00
Playoffs have brought to light a revolutionary new breed of tough guy in the NHL: The Post-Whistle Phony.
Let me preface my thoughts with a disclaimer. I myself do not claim to be a tough guy on the ice. I periodically get angry. I occasionally chirp at chumps. But my most common rebuttal holds somewhere along the line of "Yes, I realize you could kick my ass - does your coach know you're out here?"
And I know my type exists in the NHL today. There are guys like Jonathan Toews, players who play the game to win, without the slightest interest in a high-schoolesque testosterone-off.
But, there are certain requirements to be a hockey player. You need to stick up for your teammates. You may have to fight someone tougher than you (read: wrestle) because they did something stupid and you're the first one on the scene of the crime – even though you are acutely aware this could end badly (read: my nose is now crooked). You have to demonstrate your team's unity.
I wasn't a fighter; I simply played the game. No cheap shots, no snow-spray on the goalie, no picking on the little guys. You know why?
Because if you do those things you have to fight. Rather, you should have to; you used to have to.
There has been an increase in the irritating breed of "the pest." The fans love the pest – blindly loving the "competitiveness" of their own fireball, while cursing his twin brother on the other team. If the pest is smart and disciplined in his antagonism, coaches love him, too. They're fun to have on your team, provided he's not the type that leaves you shorthanded all game like the media-magnificent Sean Avery.
But I don't like this recent evolution; a new breed of rat that can smell a linesman coming like a piece of gouda and then suddenly grows a foot taller.
Old-time players sit at home watching these guys and want to jump through the TV. In this, the year of the face wash, how many glove-to-face interactions can fans see before they go "hmm...I'm not so sure those guys actually wanted to fight…"
The fact is, for the most part, if you want to get to an opposing player, you can. These men are big, strong and skate like a gazelle runs. If players don't want to fight, that's OK – just play the damn game.
As much as anybody, I enjoy a game played at fever pitch, laced with animosity, hard hits and palpable tension. But the face wash? That's a snowball-fight move.
I'm not saying I don't like a little action between the whistles, but the game has changed. In the Broad Street Bully days, hockey nonsense ruled. The frequent bench-clearing brawls were stupid, awful, dangerous and entertaining. In describing those melees, my Dad (Bob Bourne) admits it was a scary time - if you started losing your fight, you could be losing for a looonnngg time before help arrived.
Related Links
More from Justin Bourne
See all THN Insider Blogs
THN.com Playoff Center
Jay Feaster’s Blog: Unsung heroes needed to win the Stanley Cup
THN.com Playoff Blog: Hawks overcome challenges and douse Flames
THN.com Playoff Blog: Skill, depth, goaltending topples NHL's top team
THN.com Playoff Blog: Torts not to blame if Rangers fall short
THN.com Playoff Blog: Canes’ top line strikes devastating balance
Scary sounds like an understatement.
In no way is that type of violence better, but there needs to be a middle ground for agitators in the NHL. If you want to fight, fight. If you want to play, play.
But every successful playoff team needs some grit and that's just a fact. This year has been no exception.
For the Boston Bruins, a guy like Milan Lucic has been no phony. He mows guys over, jaws at them and if they'd like to fight, he punches them in their face for free. I can't think of someone I'd rather play against less.
Toughness is a valued quality. Players feel obligated to represent themselves as having that trait to fans, teammates and coaches. And just playing hockey does make you tougher and quicker on the trigger. I assure you, nothing decreases the length of your fuse like getting cross-checked in the back, having your jersey held or your ankles slashed.
So we need to reward the guys who carry themselves the same way after the whistle as they do before. We need to discern toughness from the post-whistle fakers who need to be "restrained" until the puck is dropped. These are the same guys who aren't there to actually answer the bell when their opponent has rung it.
The good news is, as the playoffs go on, phony-laden teams disappear. We start to learn who's been faking it and who's actually got the cards. Good luck trying to bluff Lucic.
So for all the "tough guys" who need their gloves re-palmed every other week, the NHL has some bad news about the rest of the games in the playoffs:
They're only getting tougher.
Justin Bourne’s Blog: All praise the early rounds
Fans of the Boston Bruins and fans of the Montreal Canadiens watch the game at the TD Banknorth Garden. (Photo by Steve Babineau/NHLI via Getty Images)
Justin Bourne
2009-04-15 10:59:00
Fans who keep one foot on the NHL bandwagon, hop on.
Round 1 is upon us.
In my past two seasons as a player, I've played in six playoff rounds. The most exciting, intense and demanding ones came in the opening round.
Playoffs start like a car accident. It's out of control; anything can happen. Then all of a sudden it's over and everything goes silent, except for that long horn at the end.
And you're left wondering, what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks just happened?
By the time I got to the third round last season, I was playing with a separated sternoclavicular joint (get out your medical textbook) and what was basically a bad shoulder. I was 10 pounds below my normal playing weight, pale and sported a beard that made girls throw up a tiny bit in their mouths.
Without fail, at season's end I would emerge from the playoffs looking like some castaway who floated home on a coconut raft. It takes a heaping mental effort to get up to the necessary level of nightly intensity, so after a few rounds of beatings and bus trips, it's tough to be the player you want to be.
And as a fan, I feel the same way about the Stanley Cup playoffs. I get so into the early rounds and watch so many games that, by the end (I think the season ends in August now), I'm pretty much indifferent. When you think about NHL playoffs, hasn't the most fun always been those early rounds?
Oh, those rivalries. Boston-Montreal. This is the 32nd time they've met in the playoffs and their last game was vicious. Watching Zdeno Chara throw windmills at Mike Komisarek, I felt like somebody had finally pissed off Lenny from Of Mice And Men. I'd let Chuck Liddell punch me in the throat if it meant I could go to one of those games at the Bell Centre.
The Capital-Rangers matchup brings Alex Ovechkin to the Big Apple and puts Sean Avery in the playoffs. Networks are going to be tripping over themselves to cover the fiasco at Madison Square Garden.
The Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin-equipped Pens play the Flyers, a team with six 20-plus goal-scorers. And everybody's first-round fresh? Yes, please.
The first round means the decline in productivity of every hockey fan who owns a television. Four games a night; it's like they served the Super Bowl, buffet style.
By the third round, we're down to four teams, a mere one game a night. There isn't a hockey fan who shouldn't be a little bummed about that. SportsCentre shows fewer highlights and adds more interviews. There's less to talk about. The sensory overload that was the first round disappears and life gets so…normal.
The sheer quantity of passionate hockey games night in, night out in the first round raises the entertainment value to its yearly peak.
Following these 16 teams' epic quest is like watching Lord of the Rings: it's one chaotic thing after the next; the odds of succeeding look thinner all the time and they both take forever to reach the end. But to get to the fires of Mordor (OK, dropping the analogy) – aka, to get to the final – is a journey unlike any other. The NBA isn't as physical; the NFL playoffs are four games total; and at the peak of the biggest moments, in the biggest games in baseball, 95 percent of the team can be seen eating sunflower seeds. The Stanley Cup is clearly the hardest trophy to win.
Related Links
THN Round 1 Preview
More from Justin Bourne
See all THN Insider Blogs
NHL Playoff Schedule
Jay Feaster’s Blog: What a GM can do to limit Sean Avery’s impact
THN.com Playoff Blog: Playoff predictions filled with peril
THN.com Playoff Blog: Columbus has all tools needed for upset
THN.com Playoff Blog: Two East series worthy of a coin-flip
THN.com Blog: Canucks look good on playoff checklist
But by the time teams limp into the later rounds they're an injured, beleaguered sack of mentally fatigued warriors. It's rarely a fair representation of what kind of team they are. The playoffs are an endurance test.
But Round 1 is a sprint. Actually, it's wind sprints, where the competitors periodically get punched in the face.
So on Wednesday, the hockey world explodes. Eight finely tuned teams bring their highest levels of aggression, mental focus and passion to the rink and take their shot at immortality.
Teams that try to pace themselves get slaughtered off the hop and all the analysts get to start pointing fingers. These days, NHL fans are abuzz with the volume of information to process, gamblers' accounts fluctuate like the Dow and Don Cherry's head nearly explodes.
Every year I'm sad when this part ends. Why? Because that means I have to start eating dinner at the table again. When it's only one game, you can have dinner and still catch the game. There's no excuse for the pizza box/couch combo.
There's nothing better than getting a plate set, a drink handy (coke in a glass with ice) and starting the nightly double-header – complete with highlights of the other two series.
It's not that I'm trashing the later rounds; I'm praising the early ones. This is the hockey smorgasbord I've been waiting for. This is where true hockey fans point to justify their obsession.
So let's do it. Let's stock up on chips, ice cream and popcorn (Orville Redenbacher's buttery salt and cracked pepper).
We've reached the pinnacle. Join me, won't you?
Enjoy Round 1 folks.
Justin Bourne’s Blog: The importance of team chemistry
Justin Bourne has played parts of three ECHL season with Alaska, Utah, Reading andIdaho. (Photo by Allen Picard)
Justin Bourne
2009-04-02 10:14:00
As a hockey player, every winter you get handed 20 new friends. I usually got along with about 19, genuinely liked five and found one gem.
But what happens when there isn't that one gem? Or even five you genuinely like? What happens when you only get along with 16 of your teammates? Does it affect your performance?
Talent is what it is, you're either good or you aren't. When you get the puck, you make good plays or you don't. Confidence plays a small part in these decisions, but it comes from successes and failures. False confidence, like your Mom's "great game" after playing like a donkey for 60 minutes, means as much as "Mission Accomplished" from George W. Bush.
Obviously that same comment holds more weight from a teammate than a parent, but can that little bit of feel-good translate to better play?
My first year out of college, I played for the ECHL's Utah Grizzlies, an immensely fun group of average hockey players, led by fan (and team) favorite Travis Rycroft.
Talk about passion for the game. Ryks lived and breathed this stuff. A Dave Matthews die hard, Trav wrote and played his own music at team parties. He was a motivator. He never quit. But most of all, everybody liked him. I mean everybody. And that doesn't mean he liked everybody. In fact, if I had to guess I'd say my team-liking figures of 19-5-1 would be a little high for him (minus the 19 part, he probably got along with 21 of every 20 guys). He literally says "you betcha" when he agrees and isn't being the slightest bit facetious.
So I got to thinking…how important is team chemistry? Our team in Utah was about an "OK" out of ten on the talent scale, but managed to go deep into playoffs as a scrappy, hard-working team. We had a great leader and liked each other.
There has to be a certain level where talent trumps chemistry. I've never been a big believer in team chemistry, believing that a talented team with a good coach could hate each other and it wouldn't matter; they'd still find success. But the more I think about it, the more skeptical I've become of this idea.
Rycroft was the team captain for four years and never got his chance at the next level, but he had to have been close. Character isn't something that can be measured and put on a scouting report, but its value is tangible in the dressing room.
Related Links
More Justin Bourne Blogs
Justin Bourne Player Page
See all THN Insider Blogs
Ryks missed some playoff games with torn knee ligaments (after being an iron man the previous season, never missing a game) and called the team in for a meeting without coaches to talk about that night's game. He cried. He was so busted up he couldn't play, he cared that much. You don't think that motivates a group of people who like him? Of course it does. Some guys were playing for contracts, but the focus shifts a bit when you see something like that. Something about it just sets you straight.
The Dallas Cowboys have been the picture of the team I had been thinking of, all talent and no chemistry. They were a huge disappointment last season. I'm starting to take this theory a little more seriously.
All I know is when I leave this game, I can take something from Ryks. For one, he's a good friend, but two, that this sort of stuff matters in any job. No matter what it is you do, if you dread seeing your boss or co-worker, it's miserable. But if you're pumped to see them, any day can be decent, and your job can be a treat. I know I didn't enjoy everything about being in Utah, but Trav made it fun. I know which co-worker I wanna be. And for that little tidbit that should have been picked up in grade school, I say thanks to Trav.
So when the NHL analysts spout their genius and lay down their playoff predictions like gospel, don't bet the house on their words; who knows which team has a Rycroft. It's those unmeasureables that create winning teams.
Justin Bourne's Blog: Survival of the wittiest
Justin Bourne played 16 games with the American League's Bridgeport Sound Tigers in 2007-08 (Photo courtesy of Justin Bourne)
Justin Bourne
2009-03-20 08:58:00
Playing hockey for too long has turned me into a complete jackass.
When I first walked into a junior hockey dressing room, I was 17. I didn't drink, smoke or do anything all that "cool." I had a steady girlfriend, whom I was faithful to, and my favorite color was purple.
I got crucified.
I needed a copy of "Getting Beaked For Dummies: How to Respond When You've Been Called a Duster, Bender, Joke, Plug and Six Variations of Homosexual."
The basic rule of dressing room trash talk is: "The best defense is a good offense," but most guys aren't able to think of anything snappy – especially if somebody, heaven forbid, hits them with something clever.
And that's what separates the trash-talk all-stars from the rest of the room: You need to make specific, personal cuts that make a guy think. You gotta cut deep. Yes, this damages friendships, but they heal; it's not The Hills.
It's like the jail theory we've all heard: On your first day, kick somebody's ass so people know you aren't to be messed with. You have to take it too far a couple times so people know you're one of the guys who will throw a guy under the bus if he gets too personal with you.
To get good at this, it helps to take constant notes. This is how good guys end up being bad people. You're listening to every conversation, often as a friend, but secretly taking notes for future ammo. You do it for so long you don't notice you've become Judge Judy, mentally persecuting while smiling and nodding.
The best-case scenario is a buddy mentioning he cried when his dog died or something completely legitimate. It'll be exploited the next time he says something hardcore.
"Why don't you quit whining about ice time and man up?"
"Shut it. You cry for puppies, your opinion is void."
Note the mild exaggeration from dead dog to puppies; this move is key. The trick is to find some truth and stretch it to the point of embarrassment. The guy can't defend himself with "No, I don't," because the worst thing he can do is further dwell on the topic and give someone a chance to tell the whole story of his tears to more ears.
The most common chirp involves girls.
There are some guidelines: serious girlfriends and wives are generally off-limits (to the guy's face). You're allowed to abuse the player in regards to his conduct with the wife (leaves team functions early, calls her "Schmoopy," wags his tail at her every request or command), but personal attacks like "Soooo, she never lost that baby weight, huh?" qualify as across the line.
Related Links
More Justin Bourne Blogs
Justin Bourne Player Page
See all THN Insider Blogs
N.Y. Islanders Team Page
There are very, very (very) few secrets in a dressing room. There are always two to five conversations going on in the room while guys get their gear on, but the real fun starts when a topic is so hugely important the whole room is involved in a main-event worthy conversation.
It usually starts with a raucous reaction to some piece of news somewhere in the room – let's say some guy dated a teammate's sister – and everybody is listening to that one conversation.
The mob mentality heightens the pressure and all your buddies are dying to pull the trigger on a verbal knockout punch. Wear your thick skin and orate like Obama, because the hammer's falling regardless.
Beyond the permanent girls, nothing is off-limits. You're fat? Get your "I can lose weight, but you'll still be ugly" responses ready. Balding? Good luck. These are the pettiest of petty issues that get players abused without having done anything wrong.
Chubby player: "Hey, that was my seat."
Jackass player: "Well, now you have to stand on your fat feet."
Anytime you get 20 guys in a room, doing nothing but working out and finding the next thing to laugh at, it doesn't matter their profession; jokes are going to be constant.
And that's what guys miss when they leave hockey. Maybe they'll go golfing with three buddies, but you can't compare that to the volume of material created by a dressing room of wannabe comedians everyday.
So when you see old teammates down the road, don't forget your basics: keep note of embarrassing things, offense for defense, and keep it personal. There will always be buddies you can get together with years after playing and pick up right where you left off.
My dad (Bob Bourne) took me to a Canucks-Islanders game five or six years after he retired and popped in to see his old coach from the Island.
Al Arbour: "HEEEYYY! Sh--head!"
Justin Bourne’s Blog: A love-hate relationship with hockey
Justin Bourne had 31 goals and 84 points in four years at the University of Alaska-Anchorage.
Justin Bourne
2009-02-15 00:40:00
As I sit here and type this, my jaw is in four pieces. I'm equipped with two plates, 10 screws and a bottom row of teeth that would rival the finest set in any backwoods pub in England. I'm a hockey player, and this is my life.
My dad, Bob Bourne, was a hockey player, and a pretty good one. He won four Stanley Cups with the Islanders back in the dynasty days and has his name in the rafters at Nassau Coliseum. I'm pretty sure it was his name they were raising; it was tough to see from the huge shadow I'm in. At least I have the option of being a professional clown with these huge unfilled shoes of his.
But really, I never tried to fill them. In fact, I was never married to hockey. If hockey were a girl, I'm fairly certain I could go to court and get a restraining order. Hey, I just liked it. Maybe I led it on a bit with the late night games and the odd early morning rendezvous, but it knew what we were. This all just happened so fast.
By 16, I was six feet tall and built like Clay Aiken. After I sat down with my gangly limbs and convinced them to work as a team, we started to make progress. I stopped having disappointments on cut day and even started to become an efficient offensive threat. I captained our midget double-A team to a provincial championship, lead a Junior B conference in scoring, and found myself a part of one of the best organizations in Junior A hockey with the Vernon Vipers. Doors started to open.
After enduring a barrage of oranges, threats of death by gas and repeatedly having my sexuality questioned by my coach, I went on to have success there, too. We won a championship and I earned a full ride college scholarship to the University of Alaska Anchorage, an NCAA Division I program in a conference with more national titles than any other, the WCHA. The Seawolves haven't, um, contributed any of those, but we turned out consistent victories against major programs like Minnesota, North Dakota, Wisconsin and Denver – consistent being a generous adjective.
College was the best time of my life. Nothing I've experienced as a professional so far has compared to skating out in front of 10,000 college kids in Minnesota, the band playing and the whole crowd chanting that we suck. College hockey is an experience I'm blessed to have had. It gave me an education and my best sports memories, like sweeping North Dakota, beating Wisconsin in playoffs, and installing a beer tap over our sink. Yes, the last one counts as a sport.
It was at UAA that I started emerging from Dad's shadow. I led my college team in scoring for a couple seasons and realized there were some professional prospects on the horizon. At the end of my senior season, I joined the ECHL's Alaska Aces so I could stay in Alaska to finish my degree, while getting a little professional experience. I managed to contribute to a talented team that advanced to the conference final.
My big advantage over every other kid with a helmet was that Dad had left a shoe in the door to Long Island when he left, so it was already a tad open for me. I had numerous American League tryout offers, but the New York Islanders represented a chance at the big time.
I'll admit I did have a little moment the first time I put that Islanders jersey on. And the pleasant twist was, I really did well there, which I think caught the scouts off guard. Before I knew it, I was back on the Island, this time for main camp. Sitting on a chartered jet with Bill Guerin and eating a steak made me feel like I was at "Bring Your Kid to Work" day. It was surreal.
I wasn't in the Islanders' NHL plans, but I caught enough attention to sign a two-way contract with their AHL affiliate in Bridgeport and their ECHL affiliate in Utah. I made the ECHL all-star team and spent the majority of the year after Christmas with the Sound Tigers in the AHL, enjoying an ocean view and rooming with Kip Brennan, who I'd like to point out I'm much tougher than (unless he's back playing on this continent, in which case, um, sorry, sir).
But in this roller coaster career, going up and up for so long can be a scary ride. I just wish I had seen the drop coming.
For the 2008-09 season, I was off to training camp with the Hershey Bears of the AHL. It wasn't my intention to crack their talented lineup, I just wanted to represent myself well and hope for a chance later. I had signed a deal with the Reading Royals of the ECHL, a team that had the highest number of call-ups per year, plus it had one other major perk: It was within driving distance to Clark Gillies' house.
Related Links
Justin Bourne Player Page
See all THN Insider Blogs
N.Y. Islanders Team Page
This may seem like no big deal to the average fan, but I happen to be dating his daughter, Brianna. Dating a hockey player's daughter just sort of happened and is further proof of hockey's unhealthy interest in me. I equate this to hockey calling me late at night and slowly breathing into the phone.
In the first contact drill of the year in Hershey, I got hit funny. My body moved, but my skate had found a comfortable rut in the ice that it decided to stay in. I was heading to Reading a day later with a freshly torn MCL. Reading seemed excited to have me. The doctors cleared me to play two days prior to the first game and I felt ready to play.
"Ready" to a hockey player is a slippery slope. In three years of junior hockey I missed zero games (largely due to said questioning of my sexuality by our coach). I hold the UAA record for most games played, only missing one due to a healthy scratch, the ultimate nad-kick of managerial moves.
And though I was officially "ready" for my first game in Reading, I was awful that first night. But, I had just gotten back on skates after a month off, so I gave myself a pass. However, I wasn't so fortunate to receive one from the Royals. One game in, they traded my play-for-nickels contract across the continent to Boise, Idaho.
I decided to test the waters in Europe, but it was going to take some time to broker a deal. Idaho agreed to have me even while knowing I might leave if the right offer came along. Well, as I waited for a deal, my MCL took a run at Comeback Tear of the Year and sidelined me for another month. I made a greatest hits album of self pity in my head, combining distance from my girlfriend, car and friends, and played that on loop.
But I worked hard at my rehab and got the green light to go with the team on a road trip to Alaska. You know you still love the game when you're excited to be included in a trip to Alaska in the dead of winter. It was Dec. 12th, my 26th birthday, and first game back from knee injury. What a birthday present! I was going to play a few shifts in front of a few fans who remembered me from college in my old home rink of Sullivan Arena.
What followed was something I'll never forget. It was my fifth shift and we were cycling the puck in the offensive zone. The puck got moved back to our defenseman, so I headed to the net. I beat the guy covering me out of the corner and went to screen the goalie. As I got near him, I turned to look towards the point in hopes of tipping the shot. Our defenseman had fired a hard, aerodynamic blast unscreened and untipped, which hit me square on the jawbone. Now that's a birthday present.
I literally said, "OK" as I was face-down on the ice assessing the damage, like somebody who knew they were about to embark on a journey of hurt. When I tried to bite down and didn't make contact with my bottom row, I was concerned. When my tongue pointed out to me that, "hey buddy, um, you've got some teeth over here and others over there," I was scared.
I've always liked writing and, with some encouragement and a lot of time on the couch, I've gotten back to it. It's been cathartic for me. The last two months of rotating surgeries, infection and braces have really forced me to take another look at my life. I want my stuff, a place, and my girlfriend all the time, not just when we're at home.
As this year rolls to a close, I doubt I'll be able to play again. My friends who don't play have always described me as a bit of a double agent, someone who played the game, but was able to give a little real-world insight to the ridiculous lives of professional athletes.
So now I write. Something gives me the vibe that hockey isn't breaking up with me. I've got a sneaking suspicion it's going to keep texting me when it gets drunk, and somehow, someway, it's going to win me back. Because the truth is, I secretly still love it back.
No comments:
Post a Comment