Tag: hockey

The third overtime just began in Vancouver, and at 1:25 in the morning, I’m ready for bed.
I bleed green, white, gold, and black, though. Go Stars!!
Update, 1:27 AM: Somewhere about the 2:50 mark in to the third overtime, the game became the longest in Vancouver franchise history.
Update, 1:51 AM: There will be a fourth overtime.
Update, 2:33 AM: With 1:54 left in the fourth overtime, Dallas falls. It sucks to lose when you outplay and outshoot your opponent.

Brilliant decision by Versus to mike Marty Turco for the NHL All-Star Game tonight. Marty’s humor shined as the Dallas Stars goalie traded one-liners with Doc Emrick and Eddie Olczyk (who has to be one of the worst color men in hockey broadcasting, but then we’re pretty spoiled here in Dallas with our top-notch crew). And Turco did it while he played, shrugging off shots microseconds after talking with the announcers upstairs, and continuing to chat as face-offs occurred right in front of him.
His best line came after the Eastern Conference scored the first of three goals against Turco, when Marty, waving them toward their bench, said with a wink to the Eastern players congregating in front of the net: “Hey guys, can you go celebrate some place else?”
It made for great insight in to the game from a goalie’s perspective, and it was really great of Turco to make the effort. Best of all, he got the win!

Could NBC not steal away better talent from ESPN for calling hockey games it chooses to nationally televise? Gary Thorne is apparently still locked in to a contract with ESPN/ABC, having spent last year calling college football games (and doing a damn fine job, if you ask me; Thorne just has a sports announcer’s voice through and through).
Big surprise that Bill Clement, formerly Thorne’s useless and biased color man, is now uselessly and biasedly anchoring NBC’s hockey network desk with Ray Ferraro. (Very manly of you guys to be out on the ice in Rockefeller Plaza, sticks in hand, while the peewee team pokes pucks around the rink behind you. This is what is known in the vernacular as a cliché. You’d think you Canadians would know a little French.)
So in DFW today we are, of course, getting the Stars-Blues game out of St. Louis. Chris Cuthbert and Peter McNab have zero chemistry. Most of the time, it sounds like McNab’s mouth is engaging before his brain. (Taking lessons from Clement, Peter?) Cuthbert sounds like he’s about to start hyperventilating any second during the game call. The only redeeming quality of this broadcast crew is Cammi Granato, stuck with the stupidly named “Inside the Glass” position. One improvement with this threesome would be to eliminate McNab and put Granato in his place. I’m not sure where Cuthbert came from, but he needs to go back to being the local team announcer there.
You might be wondering why I’m so snarky on this admittedly minor issue. First, when it comes to hockey announcers, we’re pretty spoiled here in Dallas. Ralph Strangis and Daryl Reaugh are one of the best broadcast teams in any sport. (Many of us are still hoping Daryl comes to his senses and gets a hair cut.)
Second, being a hockey fan, I want to see the sport win more fans, and one area this is going to happen in will be nationally televised games. (Few and far between those may have been these past few years. Great job with those television contracts, post-Fox Sports, Commissioner Bettman.) So if a nationally-televised game is part of your new fan-winning strategy, you better make sure the network you’ve given the goods to can deliver with top-notch broadcast crews. Those currently employed by NBC are barely living up to the term “mediocre”.
Like I’m sure many of you do when your home team is being nationally televised, I normally mute the television and flip on the radio, putting up with the satellite delay to hear my local announcers call the game. I tried to give the NBC crew an honest shot today, but they’re falling far short. Back to WBAP to hear Ralph and Razor call the last five minutes of the game.

Apparently there is some whining going on regarding the fact that hockey is the only sport which actually has rules for fighting, and Razor explains, as only Razor can, why this is such a good thing:

Baseball would have more fights than it already does (which by the way is on par if not exceeding the number in hockey) if the runner had to face a base guarded by a player with a bat. And since I’m on the subject, just stop with the bench-emptying stare downs when a pitcher throws a ball near a batters noggin’. Either throw-down or sit-down.

Football would be a fight-filled extravaganza if each guy packed a club and the game was played in an arena (Hey, wait a minute. They do play in arenas in the appropriately named Arena League. Oh, that’s right, they pad the boards for the big tough footballers.)

Basketball? Well we saw last year that it doesn’t take more than a flagrant foul and a cup of beer to send players into fight club mode. At least hockey has the brains to thank its fans and beat each other up rather than the other way around. Again, give the players a foreign object, a cage around the court and a ‘no blood no foul’ governance, and I’ll show you some lanky, bomb-throwing fisticuffs.
[Emphasis added. –R]

The third-leading goal scorer in NHL history has retired. Brett Hull made the announcement yesterday, two hours before he would have played with his Phoenix Coyote teammates against the Detroit Red Wings. At 41 years of age, as Hull put it, “the mind is willing but the body isn’t.”
Which is a true shame, because with the type of high-speed game the new NHL rules have created this season, Hull would have had the chance to really shine on the ice. This style of play is tailor-made for players like Hull, his former Dallas teammate Mike Modano, and many others. Hull, even at 41, still has, I’m sure, one of the best one-timer shots in the game. He was so effective and powerful with the one-timer when he played here in Dallas, it lead Stars color man Daryl Reaugh to nickname Brett “the Hullitzer.”
My first year in Dallas was also Brett Hull’s. He had signed with the Stars in the off-season, coming over from St. Louis. I have a Brett Hull #22 jersey I bought the night of the first Stars home game of the 1998-99 season, a game my wife and I attended. Many people were surprised Hull was not wearing his customary #16, but when Hull arrived in Dallas, that number was already being worn by Pat Verbeek. This could have been an occasion for ego-flexing, but Hull showed a lot of class and chose another number. This is an extremely underrated side of Brett Hull; most people, when they’re not discussing his playing prowess, focus on his big mouth.
My only druther is we seem to be discussing Hull as being dead, instead of merely retiring. Take this quote from NHL Commissioner Bettman (good job on that OLN TV deal, Gary; I’m sure it will bring in tons of new viewers):

“The National Hockey League will miss Brett’s skill, his scoring touch and his fun-loving attitude,” NHL commissioner Gary Bettman said. “He was a splendid athlete, a passionate player and someone who never hesitated to speak his mind. His achievements further cement the Hull family legacy of hockey greatness.”
Um, Commissioner, last time I looked, Hull is still a splendid athlete, he is still very passionate about the game, even if he will no longer play, and I seriously doubt he is ever going to hesitate to speak his mind, now and in the future. He’s retiring as a player of the game at its highest level; he’s not dead. He has expressed interest in working in management. Seeing as how his best friend is coach of that Phoenix team, and a part-owner in same, that may be closer than most think. Brett Hull is retiring as a player, but I expect we will see him around NHL circles for a long time to come.
Thanks, Brett, for some great memories.

Stars color man Daryl Reaugh felt a bit rusty covering the team’s first pre-season game last night:

So like a brown bear emerging from hibernation I’ll shake off the fuzzies, work on getting my motor skills back up to speed, take stock of my surroundings, and perhaps kill someone and eat them.

That should give me plenty to talk about Friday night when the Red Wings come to town.
Slap Razor’s blog in to your RSS feed. Every entry makes me smile or chuckle. (And while you’re at it, send Daryl an e-mail telling him to cut his hair. The ’80s are over, Razor!)