State of the Game

Oh, the good ol' hockey game

Is the best game you can name

And the best game you can name

Is the good ol' hockey game

--"Stompin'" Tom Connors 

It's a wee bit redundant, but the sentiment's there. 

Longtime readers of this blog will know I've been a Toronto Maple Leafs fan forever...or maybe it just feels that way, sometimes. I'm also not your typical Leafs fan in that I don't view the team through blue-and-white goggles and I actually pay some attention to other teams in the league.

The NHL's in its All-Star break now, and puck pundits have taken the opportunity to assess things. I thought I'd do the same.

First, some notes on the All-Star Game and SuperSkills competition, before I move on to the broader conundrums confronting hockey.

Hockey purists despise the All-Star Game. Glorified shinny, they sneer. No contact, no defense, no intensity, no passion. All true. Yesterday's game finished up 12-11 for the Eastern Conference, in a shootout no less. The All-World players looked for all the world like they were out for a leisurely skate (except, that is, for the goalies, who looked terrified). 

So what? Every sport, with the possible exception of baseball, lightens up for its respective All-Star match. You won't see smothering defense in the NBA game; most football fans I know don't consider the Pro Bowl a real game.

In the NHL at least, the All-Star Game is all about the kids. It's about the superstars of the game getting a little closer to their fans. Most of all, it's about having fun. On that count, it's a resounding success. Look at the players, the coaches, even the referees: smiles abound. There's no intensity...because that's what the other 82 games of the regular season (not to mention the playoffs, where the intensity can choke entire teams) are for.

That's not to say the current format of the All-Star competition couldn't do with a few tweaks, because certain aspects of it go beyond being fun and deep into farce.

Here's how it works right now. The fans vote for the starters, including the two goalies. Ballot box-stuffing is not only legal, it's encouraged. The NHL's Hockey Operations department fills out the "reserves" after that, with a stipulation that each team in the league must be represented.

There are two things glaringly wrong here. Many players who are anything but deserving end up being All-Stars, and many who flat-out belong in the starting lineup aren't. This year, for instance, the Montreal Canadiens were represented by Alexei Kovalev, Mike Komisarek, Carey Price, and Andrei  Markov. Of the five, Markov undoubtedly belonged (he's second overall in scoring among defensemen), and you could make a case for Price, who is 16-5 with a very respectable 2.35 GAA and .919 SV%. But Kovalev's really iffy and Komisarek (who has scored all of one goal this season) just flat-out doesn't belong on the same ice surface. He's only there because the Montreal fans flooded the voting process. Everyone in hockey knows it.

Meanwhile, Alex Ovechkin made the reserve team. Here's a guy who, with apologies to Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin, is my first choice to build a franchise around. A franchise? Hell, a  league. He combines exceptional talent and drive with an irrepressible childlike joy at playing the game he loves. He leads the NHL in goals scored, is third overall in points amassed, and he's a reserve?! 

The rule that each team must be represented is almost as dumb. I mean, Tomas Kaberle, for instance, didn't need to be there. This year he's been decidedly average for long stretches. Meanwhile, here's David Krejci out of Boston, scoring better than a point a game, not included. It's a joke.

Here's how to fix it: Let the players vote in the rosters. The fans can then select who starts the game from the rosters the players assemble. Let's stipulate that the home team where the game's being played must be represented, but beyond that, the sole consideration should be merit.

The SuperSkills competition, held the night before the All-Star game itself, is the highlight of the hockey year for my wife. Says Eva: They're having fun. And they are. Again, many of the events seem a bit (or a lot) gimmicky to the jaundiced eye of the hockey purist, but screw him, this is all sizzle and spectacle and there's nothing wrong with that. This year, they used a non-NHL goalie in the Breakaway skills competition: next year, they should go one further and get a kid from somewhere: I guarantee he or she would never forget the experience. 

Last year, I wrote about the discomfort NHL players had showing off their skills. This year, it was as if special dispensation had been given: everybody was trying to be a showboat. The parade was led by the aforementioned Alex Ovechkin, who donned sunglasses, a Tilley hat with a Canadian flag sticking out of it (that went down well with the crowd!) and...two sticks before skating in on the goalie. You had to laugh. You just had to.

So the skills competition was neat, as always...but I was left wanting somehow. Each team holds their own skills competition a couple of weeks before the All-Star Game and you have to scour the local media to get any mention of your home team's results. 

I'd kind of like to see the skills competition divorced somewhat from the All-Star Game. I'd like to see the winner from each team duke it out with the winners from every other team to determine, for instance, who really has the hardest shot in the NHL. (It's still probably Zdeno Chara, who's 6'8" and 270 and just beat Al Iafrate's ancient record, but hey, you never know.) And the fastest skater? Chances are he's not an All-Star. This year, Andrew Cogliano out of Edmonton won it--but he didn't even win his own team's event, so it's something of a mystery how he ended up skating. 

Intermission coming up. When I come back tomorrow, I'm going to answer two questions ("should fighting be banned?" and "w(h)ither the Sunbelt teams?"...and ask one. Actually, I'll ask it now: why does the United States all but ignore hockey?

Until then, keep your stick on the ice.