the 4th star

VANCOUVER — Canada-Russia today. Yesterday, the city is alive with anticipation. As busy as everything is this morning, I can’t imagine anyone being on the street when the puck drops  for the big game tonight. If memory serves, this was supposed to be the gold medal final. Now, one of these teams won’t make it to the semis. Ouch, eh? No predictions over here — why bother trying to predict a coin flip? Instead, I’ll be trying to figure out where I’m going to watch this game while in this city. Options include:

Some bar: Everything will be jammed. I’m 5-foot-7. Can’t chance not seeing the screen.
A public venue: Same deal. Do I really want to be 100 yards from a screen with no audio?
Hockey Canada Place: Yeah right.
My hotel room: Not joking. It is an option.
Some other place: Seriously, suggestions welcome in the comments.

While considering my plight, please enjoy one last thing from Russia before hating them with every fibre of your being. OK, fine. Technically, Olga is from Ukraine, not Russia. But she speaks Russian and her mother is from Russia, so close enough in my books. I’m guessing it is in yours, as well.

VANCOUVER — You need to watch this. Just do it.

VANOC Wrap Jam. There’s not really anything more I can say about this other than it will probably be the best thing you see all year. Kinda makes you forget about all those disappointing fourth-place finishes, eh? The song choice is excellent. The level of play is beyond comedy genius. Eugene Levy — has Canada retired his number yet? I know I won’t top this for the rest of the week, but that’s cool. After all, come tomorrow, with a game against the Russians in men’s ice hockey, the Olympics might be over for Canada anyway. If we can get past Germany, that is.

Recess Monkeys = new favourite band.

As the placeline says, I’m in Vancouver now. No sign of Ben Mulroney yet, but he can’t hide from his punch in the teeth forever. I’ll try to get some stuff up here whenever I can, but the schedule seems quite involved. I brought a camera, too, so I’ll be sure to carry it with me and not take any pictures. Word.

Now that Mike Babcock has pushed the panic button and ejected Martin Brodeur from the Canadian crease, a nation wonders: What if this doesn’t work?

A good question, no question, considering the checkered history of Brodeur’s replacement, Roberto Luongo and the magnitude of circumstance facing Canadian hockey this week. The answer is simple, of course. If it doesn’t work, we burn the city of Vancouver down to the ground before sending the region adrift into the Pacific Ocean.

Everyone thought Canada had the net depth unlike no other. Now we get to see it. When measured against the other Canuck goaltenders, and I don’t mean Andrew Raycroft and Cory Schneider, Luongo doesn’t have much of a resume, though. Brodeur has the Olympic gold, the Stanley Cups, the Vezina, and pretty much every other benchmark you can get when being labelled the greatest goaltender to ever play in the NHL. The other guy, that Marc-Andre Fleury character, didn’t even bring his Vancouver. Or so rumour has it. Too bad. All he has to show on his application is a Stanley Cup championship and back-to-back trips the NHL final the last two seasons.

Nope. It’s Luongo. He has an 11-11 post season record. He’s never made it past the second round of the playoffs. I love him in the Canucks net (regular season) but I don’t like him defending the Canuck interests this week. Nope. Let’s all take a deep breath, shall we? Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in. Hold it for an extra second. Breathe out. The game against Germany is the warm-up — much along the same lines as the game against the Swiss was for Brodeur — so let’s look past that contest and train our eyes towards Russia. How will Luongo fare in what will be the biggest game of his life? Another excellent question.

The Good
Luongo rises to the biggest challenge of his career, stops 40 shots and leads Canada into another improbable match-up against what will probably be Sweden. His backstory gets lost in the hyperbole of how great the moment is and the look of relief on his face as he looks to the scoreboard as the final buzzer sounds on an impressive win is broadcast all over this great country of Canada. And Italy. The gamble by ‘Babs’ pays off. Canadian hockey gets an 11th hour reprieve from the governor. The suicide watch for millions is off. Breathe in, breathe out.

The Bad
Luongo plays well, lets in two goals against a powerful Russian squad, but he makes a series of acrobatic saves and keeps Canada in the game. One problem: The forwards can’t score and the defence can’t skate. Luongo is under siege for 59 of the 60-minute game, but he does everything he can to give opportunity a chance to find its way past Evgeni Nabokov. It doesn’t happen, and Canada loses 2-1. Despite being the star of the game for the home side, Luongo sadly wears the loss in the post game. The scape goat. Nick Kypreos said something really dumb. Darren Pang recalls something from his career that no one else can. Welcome to Vancouver: Where goaltenders go to die. I bet you thought it was going to be while playing for the Canucks.

The Fugly
It starts off with a Russian power play goal, a point shot that bounces in off a couple skates before making its way into the netting. Game on! Canada Hockey Place decides to turn up the heat. And the pressure. Pronger coughs up the puck in the corner. Two-nothing on an Ovechkin goal. The building is quiet as the first period comes to a close. The second act turns into a hockey tragedy. The Russian speed is too much for the Canadian defence, and despite trading goals before the midway point, things do not look good. Malkin makes it 4-1 at the second break and the bell begins to toll. A back-breaker from Ovechkin. Game over. Canada adds a pair of late, meaningless goals but that’s it. Luongo cries in the post game. He gets torched for letting in five goals. It’s a media assault. Vancouver fans call for a change. He starts to cry again. U.S. drama queen skier Lindsey Vonn catches the highlight of the teary ‘tender in a Whistler bar. “He’s doing it all wrong,” she says, shaking her head in disgust.

1. On Saturday, I mentioned to MasterClark that the worst case scenario for Canada would be to see Martin Brodeur getting lit up by the Americans. That would then put all the pressure on Mike Babcock to pull the trigger on the best goaltender in NHL history and turn to Roberto Luongo. As much as I love No. 1, the bottom line is that he’s a guy who is 11-11 in the NHL post season career and a guy who has shown he’s not exactly the pressure player the position may require. I love Luongo (as  Canucks fan I have to say that), but it’s not a good situation for Canada right now.

2. So the schedule for the next two games for Canada is set. Sven Butenschon and the Germans on Tuesday, and then a date with the Russians on Wednesday. Besides goaltending, two other problems for Canada emerge: The Russians looked great against another great team Sunday and with their lines all figured out, they appear to be the force everyone thought they would be. Second, how the hell is Chris Pronger, Dan Boyle, and Scott Neidermayer going to keep up with the faster Big Red Machine? Even if they get past Russia, how can they possibly keep it up for four games over six days for a gold?

3. I’ll be in Vancouver for those two games. What do you think the street price is for a ticket to the quarter-final contest? A kidney?

4. Canada’s latest stumble is just another unhappy trip for CTV and their coverage of the games. A quick look at the remaining medal hopes for Canada shows a slim to no chance for the home side to catch the U.S. for the overall podium bragging rights, a fact that was pretty clear on Wednesday or Thursday. After watching yet another medal hopeful finish a disappointing fourth with his crash-landing in the ski cross, this post on the Yahoo! five-ring blog hits the CTV Own the Podium nail right on the head:

You can already see CTV trying to save face without acknowledging its role in creating the sky-high expectations. Within minutes of the ski-cross fail, coming in the wake of the Hollingsworth apology tour, Michael Landsberg was out doing his man-on-the-street bit, shameless asking the leading question, “Is Mellisa Hollingsworth being too hard on herself?” Of course, the answer he got was, “Yesssss! Wisdom of crowds, indeed. Meantime, talk about moving the goalposts.

That’s a pretty good line right there. VANOC Wrap Jam right here:

Three things I love about Canada:
1. Playing hockey.
2. Talking hockey.
3. Watching hockey.

The last time the Canadian and United States men’s ice hockey teams squared off at the Olympics, I was with about 15 close friends, all huddled up on a sectional at Wardlaw 503. That was eight years ago. Outside of the game highlights, though, the day remains fuzzy to me. I couldn’t tell you who said what, who sat where and beside whom, or what jokes made it into the funny category, but I do recall the feeling that this was one of the more special days in my hockey watching history. I recall actually being scared that Canada would lose to the U.S. on my birthday. It turned out OK, but what I didn’t prepare for was the fact that it would be the last day I would really be a rabid, jersey-wearing, hockey fan.

It was the last time I really cheered for Canada.

Funny thing happens when you move from the couch to the press box — you see the action on the field or on the ice in a totally different way. No longer are you throwing your arms up in anger regarding a missed call by the officials or screaming at that defenceman who never shoots the puck to, in fact, shoot the puck. The exceptional talent and skill of the players — you don’t really care about that anymore. Or if you do, it’s through a different lens. Any “wow factor” you had from a specific play gets replaced by breaking down the breakdowns and circumstances which allowed for the play to be made in the first place. Jumping out of your chair after a goal? No way. Teams no longer are the subject of your affection as you cheer for the game, an interesting, well-played game, rather than the final outcome. Check that: Quietly root for a quick conclusion to the contest while on the clock. It just makes it easier.

The first three things I was told in the press box:
1. No cheering.
2. Stand for the national anthems.
3. Pepsi and popcorn is over there.

Being behind the velvet ropes and acquiring the knowledge that goes along with the rare standing has come at the expense of being a fan — a trade-off that I was surprisingly more that willing to make. Knowledge of how the machine works behind the curtain has replaced any blind faith I had in a certain outfit.

Example: A person who loves music wants to become a music writer. This person listens to music all the time, constantly keeping abreast of the new offerings while remaining true to the back catalogue. He or she eventually lands the dream gig, going to all the shows they can fit into an evening and being a part of the scene they so desperately wanted to be a part of. It has nothing to do with *being cool* or trying to bridge some childhood inadequacies they had — it’s nothing but a simple equation: They like music, they like writing, and they want to write about music.

But a funny thing happens once they land that music writing gig. They see how the industry really fuctions. The stage and the artist, once the shiny object of their affection, is just the vehicle now. It remains beautiful to people. It always will. The engine, however, the motor that makes the product move off the shelves, is less appealing. Less sexy people come to the notepad. Some are good. Most are full of shit. Yes, oil is a dirty substance and the machine that drives the industry isn’t as glamourous as the final product aims to be. Cynicism — an objectivity that they may have never known was there, comes out. Standing behind the music looks a lot different then dancing in front of it. Suddenly, after being dipped in this sludge of real life and experience, they stop listening to music altogether. Life becomes an Empty Cell* and they cease to get excited for that new release from their favourite band. The industry blends into white noise and the harsh reality hits home: The story of the music is more interesting than the music itself.

My top three Canadian hockey moments:
1. Salt Lake City, Utah.
2. Trevor Linden scoring against Hasek in Nagano.
3. Rod Black’s interview with Todd Hlushko in Albertvile.

Remember when the World Junior Hockey Championship was in Grand Forks a few winters back? I bought a pack of tickets with those same people who joined us for gold at Wardlaw 503, but because of work commitments back in Winnipeg, I only made it to two games. I guess if I really wanted to get down there to see more hockey I could have moved things around, but it wasn’t really a priority. The junior tournament was getting old in my eyes, and driving down to witness a blow-out has little appeal for me. Canada won but the games were terrible, I thought.

One slice of time stands out for me from that gold medal game against Russia: Canada was dominating. It looked like the route was on. People, dressed up in various Red and White outfits, were going crazy. In the third period, with the game seemingly long over, a young kid wearing a Canadian jersey sat in the suite directly above us. He wasn’t watching the game. He was looking up at the rafters, possibly wondering how he could get up there. Or maybe he was just watching the scoreboard. Or maybe he found a balloon that had taken up permanent residence in the steel beams. I couldn’t see a balloon from where I stood, but maybe he had a line on one. Either way, the outcome of game was suddenly inconsequential to him.

That’s kind of how I feel now. I still want Canada to win, but it no longer matters like it did in the past. The final score is not the end of the world. I’m more interested in the game inside the game, and the little things that make it special. Like how are we going to get that balloon down from there?

*VANOC Wrap Jam

Manitoba. Little doubt who it’s going to be this morning. As many have said, JM seems like he’d be a pretty cool dude to have a beer with. Not too many post-run pictures out there, though. Not many good ones, I should say. Turner Tait (sorry, Eddie) puts together a nice piece on the man who never learned how to properly sit on a sled. If you tried that head-first move at Wet ‘n’ Wild back in the day, you’d get in big trouble. Your VANOC Wrap Jam (below) goes out to Russell, MB. I have a feelin’ everyone there is feelin’ alright.

1. Which scenario is more concerning? A strong team (Canada) playing well and eventually beating a pesky but far- inferior club (Swiss) in an extra shoot-out — a game that probably should have ended the Swiss way were it not for a bouncing puck in the regulation breakaway contest; or having a strong team (Russia) lose in a shoot-out to a pesky club (Slovakia) filled with current and former NHL stars? Everyone can say that the Russian loss was the first upset of the tournament, and it was, but I bet the Canadian side lost a lot more sleep last night.

2. Really digging the 11 p.m. start time (in Winnipeg) for the late game.

3. A lot of post-game talk about how scary the Slovaks could be in the later stages of the tournament. They have the star power to surprise, but I’m not convinced Jaroslav Halak has shown his true game yet. The other shoe will drop at some point. World class goaltenders don’t fight for the crease with guys like Carey Price.

4. Speaking of the masked men, I think we’ve seen the start of something in the shoot-out. Both Halak and Ilya Bryzgalov went to the poke-check early and often in the multiple round showdown, catching many shooters by surprise. So spooked was Josef Stumpel that he tried a snapper from the top of the slot, just to avoid the close quarters near the blue paint.

5. Canada will beat the United States, probably by multiple tallies, but I’m still not convinced this is a team that should be considered better than the field in Vancouver. What we’ve seen so far is that pretty much every club has some flaw, and that the overall games of the top of the table are very close to one another. It’s going to be a pick ‘em.

This must be well over 10 years old now. I really have no idea and frankly, I’m not going to even bother to check. Forget about the when — why did you bring it up? The what is the only thing that matters here. I have a day off today and tomorrow, which means I’ll be organizing my time around a so-called haircut and the Olympic men’s hockey schedule. Probably go with the old standard: LEGO hair piece. As for the hockey, let’s see what we have on tap, shall we?

Today
Belarus-Sweden
Czech Republic-Latvia
Finland-Germany

Tomorrow
Norway-Swiss
Latvia-Slovakia
Germany-Belarus

Ugh. Not exactly a stellar slate of games, is it? Oh well. At least I’ll get to see Sven Butenschon play. Great guy. One of my all-time favourite Moose. In the meantime, let’s all enjoy this little ditty from Ottawa’s only talented musical act. I think the Adam Carolla and Aaron Mendoza accompaniment really makes this work. Who? Look it up.

Via The Onion:

Gay Marriage Passes In 9 States After Area Homosexual Dunks On Regulation Rim

MONTGOMERY, AL—A two-handed slam dunk by an openly homosexual man set off a chain of events this week that culminated in the legalization of gay marriage in nine states, including Mississippi and Alabama. “When I saw that dunk, I was like, ‘Whoa!’” said Alabama state Sen. Hinton Mitchem, adding that his office was flooded with calls and e-mails from constituents demanding legal recognition of same-sex marriages following the slam. “A guy with nasty moves like that should be entitled to the same fundamental rights as the rest of us.” On Thursday, the New York State Senate passed a resolution declaring that it would take a pretty sweet roundhouse kick from a gay mixed martial arts champion before it would allow homosexuals to marry.

(Campbell lights cigarette)

I’ve had it. I’m not going to take it anymore.

You people make me sick!

As a national broadcaster in this country, I just can’t win. I get hammered every year for my call of the Jays, everyone outside of the Campbell household saying that I’m too boring, or that I haven’t connected enough with the team, or that my baseball knowledge isn’t up to the standards of a country who cares more about back-up goaltenders than the ace of a staff. This displeasure results in me getting replaced by Buck Martinez. BUCK EFFING MARTINEZ!

Let me tell you something about Buck Martinez – the guy can barely string a sentence together, let alone call a three-hour ballgame. His promotion to the play-by-play mic would fall in the category of the absurd. It’s like Nick Kypreos landing a gig as an in-studio analyst. Disastrous. You just watch. Martinez won’t last a year – calling it right now. You know he likes to take a nap after the sixth inning, right? True story. Tell everyone. Am I bitter? What kind of question is that?

(Campbell throws the dart on the sidewalk, presses his shoe into the cherry)

But that’s not what’s bothering me these days. I don’t give an F about B. It seems a lot of people have a problem with the way I called the snowboard and freestyle skiing events this past week. Apparently, the people of THIS GREAT COUNTRY OF CANADA did not appreciate my Canadian slant. Apparently, my insistence of sugar coating some performances and my knack for over-stating events on the course rubbed people the wrong way. Too effing bad, I say. PRO CANADA PRO! That’s what we were told to do and that’s what I did. Look at this article:

A lot is riding on this for Campbell, who lost his job as Sportsnet’s Toronto Blue Jays voice at the end of the 2009 season. Unfortunately for him, he has compromised what might have been a good effort by cheerleading and coddling the Canadian athletes.

Screw off! You hear me, Bill Houston! I’d like to wrap that flag from THIS GREAT COUNTRY around your neck and choke you with it! I wouldn’t cross the street in my neighbourhood, buddy. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise!

Huh? Why didn’t I show that same enthusiasm for the Blue Jays telecasts? You must be kidding. Have you seen that team play? That building is the world’s largest funeral home. No one can squeeze any energy out of that place – not even BUCK EFFING MARTINEZ! ARRRGGGHHHH

(Campbell pauses, looks out into empty space)

Look, my career is going the way of the dinosaur. If I don’t watch myself, I’ll be assigned the Raptors next season, for Christ’s sake. I mean, you want to know how far I’ve fallen? Peter Lobardias is parking closer to the building than I am these days. Next thing you know I’ll find my car out by RJ Broadhead’s pice of crap truck. ’93 Silvarado, why? Whatever. This is not good, not good at all…

(Campbell shakes his head, pulls out another cigarette)

And I don’t even smoke!

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