Olympic stars still shine

NOW THAT THE NHL is officially back in business following the two-week Olympic break, I wondered whether the players who stood out in Vancouver would be able to do the same once they returned to the nightly grind, away from the world spotlight, and whether they would be able to channel the same intensity and focus.

In many cases, they seemed to pick up right where they left off. On Tuesday, Ryan Callahan of the Rangers (pictured above) scored two goals in a 4-1 win over the Senators; Mike Richards scored a goal for the Flyers in a 7-2 victory over the Lightning, and Marty Brodeur, after losing his starting job in goal for Team Canada, returned to the Devils and had to make only 17 saves in a 4-3 triumph over the Sharks.

On Wednesday, Ryan Kesler and Roberto Luongo -- who wore different uniforms during the Olympics -- both put on their familiar Canucks garb with positive results. Kesler scored a pair of goals and Luongo made 28 saves as Vancouver beat the Red Wings 6-3.

Not so fortunate, however, was the hero of Team USA, goaltender Ryan Miller, going in net for the first time since the Olympic gold medal game, played well and made 37 saves for the Sabres, but still wound up on the short end of a 3-1 loss to the Caps.

It was an interesting scene the night before in Pittsburgh, where the Penguins hosted Buffalo. Miller -- who didn't play -- got a louder ovation then hometown hero Sidney Crosby, who not only helped win the Stanley Cup for the hometown Pens last season but scored the OT goal that gave Team Canada the gold on Sunday. Guess national pride runs thicker than the local variety.

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LeBron James has made it known he intends to change his familiar No. 23 to No. 6 next season -- whether he re-signs with the Cavs or not (the feeling here is that you'll be seeing plenty of No. 6 jerseys trudging around downtown Cleveland next season). It's no secret that King James has made it known he'd like to see the NBA retire No. 23 for posterity in honor of Michael Jordan, as Major League Baseball retired No. 42 for Jackie Robinson. There are several players in the NBA right now toting No. 23, with James easily the most notable.

A future Hall-of-Famer (I think we can safely assume that), James would wear his new number well, joining HOF residents Bill Russell and Julius Erving as superstars known for their No. 6.

Unlike collegiate and high school basketball, the NBA has no restrictions regarding what numbers players wear. Rules are in place at the amateur levels that only numbers in the ranges of 1-5, 10-15, 20-25, 30-35, 40-45 and 50-55 are to be worn, to make it easier for officials to signal fouls -- as there are only five digits on each hand. Thus, a foul on a player wearing No. 23 would be signified by the referee holding up two fingers on one hand and three on the other. Pretty simple stuff.

There have always been examples of oddball numbers in NBA lore. George Mikan, the league's first superstar, wore No. 99 with the Minneapolis Lakers. Ron Artest wore No. 91 at one point in his career as a tribute to Dennis Rodman. Artest has also worn Nos. 15, 23, 93, 96 and 37 as well, for reasons too convoluted and time-consuming to go into here. Drew Gooden donned No. 90 with the Mavericks to combine the No. 9 he wore with the Magic and the 0 he wore with the Grizzlies. Shawn Bradley wore 76 because he stood 7-6 and also happened to play for the 76ers. And the since-maligned Gilbert Arenas wore 0, because he was told that's how many minutes he would play while at the University of Arizona.

But I think my favorite example of sports numerology has to do with baseball, specifically Japanese baseball. Players there universally refuse to wear No. 4, pronounced "shi," the same pronunciation as the Japanese word for death.

Talk about a rally-killer.

Divine rod

THE FLOOD OF MEMORIES from my table-hockey (or rod-hockey, as some folks call it) post yesterday was too much for one sitting, so as promised, another glide down the slots of plastic pucks past continues.

The Coleco "New York Rangers" hockey game we played incessantly wasn't actually my first table-hockey game. I did have another, smaller version when I was small, which featured the default Canadiens-Leafs matchup, the metal players actually brandishing yellow plastic sticks (as pictured in my blogpost from yesterday). The other feature was a battery-powered actual red light that ignited when a goal was scored. Very cool.

I mentioned that I owned every team at the time; I just read somewhere that the Oakland Seals and Los Angeles Kings players are highly sought-after. Like my old baseball cards, I wish I still had the metal table-hockey players that gave me so much joy as a child. Oh well ...

The preferred offensive strategy -- and one of my favorite moves -- was the centering pass from the wing to the center. If you controlled the puck with your right wing, say, the opposing player's defenseman had to commit to either blocking the path for a centering pass or defending a sharp-angle shot from the wing -- not both. So either way, there would be a scoring opportunity. I found the best way to attack would be to get the puck past the defenseman in the general direction of the slot, while giving the center rod a good shove. Ideally, the flying center would smash the puck toward the net, an almost impossible play for the goalie to defend.

And how about the times the puck would sit tantalizingly on the lip of the goal line? The only way to get it out would be to gingerly try to move the puck toward the post, using the metal post that supported the goalie, and then attempt to clear the puck away by applying just enough pressure to slide it out of danger without accidentally pushing it backward and into the net. All of that while the opposing center would harass the goalie by twisting back and forth at high speed, smashing metal on metal, causing a great deal of noise.

Which is probably why my mom relegated us to the basement.

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Random thoughts: The last word on destiny pertaining to the Canadian men's hockey team (and the women's, for that matter) -- I never made the connection for some reason, but a couple of days ago I realized the first four notes of the Olympic Theme and "O, Canada" are exactly the same ... So LeBron James has already put in the paperwork to change his uniform number next season from 23 to 6, telling the Cleveland Plain Dealer he wanted to do so as a tribute to Michael Jordan. The more cynical among us might think it a way for the Cavs -- or whomever LeBron plays for next season -- to sell more jerseys, much the way the Lakers happened to sell more Kobe Bryant jerseys when he switched from No. 8 to 24. By the way, LeBron, the Knicks have No. 6 available.

Putting it all on the table

As if the on-ice hockey competition at the Winter Olympic Games in Vancouver wasn't exciting and inspiring enough, what I saw during the closing ceremonies made me feel warm and fuzzy, transporting me to another time and place.

And it had nothing to do with the kinda-creepy Up-With-People-esque kids with snowboards, the opera diva flying through the air wearing a maple leaf or William Shatner -- who's always funny (but I have to admit here I didn't know he was Canadian -- sorry. Speaking of apologies, I didn't realize they were inherently Canadian, either). But I'm going off on major tangents here. Sorry, eh?

What I'm talking about were the giant table hockey players that floated around the floor at BC Place, and the simulated game that took place, featuring that little kid dressed up as a puck. For those of us "of a certain age," that unleashed a flood of memories and nostalgia. For me in particular, it took me back to my basement as a kid in Rockaway, N.J., when my friends Mark and Steve would come over and we'd play for hours on my Coleco New York Rangers table hockey game.

The game itself was huge; the end boards hung over the edge of my mom's card table, and a huge scoreboard hung over center ice. You would drop the puck through a slot in the top of the scoreboard for each face-off, and the scoreboard included a standings board for each conference. There were slots and cardboard nameplates for each city, which could be moved around depending on the "real-life" standings.

These weren't the molded plastic players you'd see at arcades, but rather the flat, metal variety, proudly smiling and wearing the uniforms of every NHL team. The Rangers' fiercest rivals at the time were the Bruins, so my game came with those two teams (I came to realize later that the default pairing was the Canadiens and Maple Leafs, which Coleco would modify depending on what part of North America the game was sold). But I took it a step further, buying players from every NHL team. We would spend as much time changing the teams between games as we did actually playing. When I wasn't using the Rangers, I would gravitate toward the Flyers -- though I hated the "Broad Street Bullies" as a kid, I thought the Flyers' orange uniforms with the flying "P" epitomized coolness.

We'd have tournaments, keeping all three of us involved. We'd play five-minute periods, timed with my mom's egg timer, and rotate through the two player seats and the third at center ice, which belonged to the PA Announcer/Referee -- an extremely important role. We would "broadcast" the games on my white plastic Panasonic tape recorder, after playing the national anthems of the U.S. and Canada, and religiously tallied the results of the games on a dog-eared yellow legal pad.

One of the best features of the game was the plastic "red light" that would signify a goal; when a puck entered the net, it would fall into a hole behind the always-grinning goalie and hit a plastic lever that would push up the "red light" through a cylinder behind the net. The player who gave up the goal would then react by slapping the red light back down, thus ejecting the puck from the net.

As referee, the third wheel would watch for those rare occasions when the puck would go "in and out" of the net without igniting the plastic lamp and rule a goal, often the tie-breaking vote in such situations. Funny how the vote was almost always 2-1, going against the one scored upon.

The more I write, the more I remember. But the time is short, so I'll continue my glide down the slots of memory lane tomorrow. Stay tuned.

An instant classic, on and off the ice

The greatest hockey game of all time? That's up for debate, but I think Canada's 3-2 triumph over Team USA for the gold medal last night in Vancouver can certainly be included in the conversation of most meaningful sticks-and-blades matchups ever.

Certainly, the Canadians had that extra inner intangible that simply came from wearing the Maple Leaf (not the Toronto one) on their jerseys. It was their game, played in their nation, the Super Bowl, World Series, Stanley Cup Final all combined into one. To win would have been their birthright, their destiny, the scripted finale for this NHL All-Star Team put together to achieve nothing less than a golden moment.

There were similar parallels in Team USA's storyline; the Americans, while evoking memories of the Miracle on Ice in 1980 (more on that in a minute), hadn't lost a game in this tournament. Their roster was also made up of NHL players, but more of the bump-and-grind variety rather than simply the most talented names available. But for Team USA, a loss in the finale would not have the same far-reaching impact it would have in Canada.

Of course, to come so far, play so well, inspire a country that sorely needs inspiring and lose in the final -- especially after Zach Parise's goal with an extra attacker sent the game into OT -- is difficult to deal with. US defenseman Jack Johnson said, "It's devastating. It was the biggest game any of us have played in." Understandably so. And you could see that devastation in Ryan Miller's face during his TV interview just moments after Sidney Crosby's OT goal won it for Canada.

But in time, that will pass. The wounds of defeat will dissipate, and the silver medal will come to mean just that, not a loss in the finals. As Chris Drury said, "No one knew our names. People know our names now." And you could see signs of healing already at the closing ceremonies, just a couple of hours afterward. There was Ryan Miller, silver medal around his neck, with a camera, the beginnings of an actual smile on his face, taking it all in.

But for Canada to lose on that stage? Crushing? Devastating? Humiliating? There may not be a word in the English language to describe what such an unthinkable event would have meant north of the border. Especially when considering the depth of what hockey means there.

And when that puck, propelled by Crosby, already anointed "The Next One," beat Miller and hit nothing but the back of the net, all of Canada erupted in glee and exhaled in relief at the same time. The same could be said for Crosby in particular, who carried that weight and expectations on his 22-year-old shoulders. Not only has he won a Stanley Cup and Olympic gold eight months apart, but in Canada, he now shares a pedestal with Paul Henderson, who scored the winning-goal in the classic 1972 Summit Series, as well as his boss, Penguins owner Mario Lemieux, who scored to defeat the Soviets in the 1987 World Cup.

And how about the parting shot of the Canadians posing for their championship photo while Team USA quietly filed off the ice behind them? Classic.

Certainly, the party atmosphere that was evident during the closing ceremonies inside and outside of BC Place would have been much different if, say, Parise, Jamie Langenbrunner or anyone else in a Team USA uniform had scored in OT. I wonder how the choreography of the hockey-heavy tongue-in-cheek tribute to Canada would have been modified for a silver medal, rather than gold (how great was the re-creation of the table-hockey game on the BC Place floor?).

It was as if it were meant to unfold no other way. Pretty damn close to perfectly, I think.

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Some, in the excitement of the moment, were prepared to call it the most important hockey game in the history of Canada. Hmm. The Summit Series triumph, smack in the middle of the Cold War, might have been bigger. I'm not sure you can compare the two -- different circumstances, different time, different things at stake.

For us in the US, a gold medal in hockey at Vancouver in 2010 would have been exciting and memorable, but it never could have touched what happened at Lake Placid in 1980 -- a bunch of no-name college kids beating the vaunted and feared Soviets at the height of the Cold War period on American ice. That game transcended sports, and may have been the most meaningful sporting event ever.

The proceedings in Vancouver will certainly claim a spot as one of the best live sporting events for those who were there.

For me, there are two. One was Robin Ventura's grand-slam single that gave the Mets a 4-3 victory over the Braves in Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS. I was there as a fan, about four rows from the top of Shea Stadium. I remember the wave of humanity cascading down the exit ramps of Shea, chanting "Mets in seven." It didn't go that way; two nights later, Kenny Rogers walked in the winning run at Turner Field, giving the Braves the pennant.

Then there was the night Michael Jordan, wearing No. 45 in his NBA comeback, dropped 55 points on the Knicks at Madison Square Garden on March 28, 1995. I covered that one. That doesn't stand out for any particular shot Jordan made, but just how he dominated in every way. Oddly enough, the game-winning shot was made not by Jordan, but rather Bill Wennington, on a pass from Jordan.

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One last thought on the Olympic hockey experience -- the dynamics of playing for your country one night and, literally, going back to work the next and banging heads against the same guys you just went to war with are fascinating. Consider that Team Canada coach Mike Babcock, less than 24 hours after winning the gold medal, will be coaching the Detroit Red Wings against the Colorado Avalanche tonight when the NHL schedule resumes. One player on his bench will be defenseman Brian Rafalski, who had to watch the celebration as a member of Team USA. Paul Stastny, Rafalski's USA teammate, will play against him as a member of the Avalanche.

Similarly, Parise and Langenbrunner of Team USA will reunite with Team Canada goaltender Marty Brodeur with the New Jersey Devils. The same for Patrick Kane of the USA and Jonathan Toews of Canada with the Chicago Blackhawks. And for Crosby, the Team Canada hero, and USA defensemen Brooks Orpik and Ryan Whitney with the Penguins.

And I'm sure that in all those cases, along with the many more I didn't mention, it will be as if the Olympics never happened. Hockey players are a humble, hard-working lot. Like the old adage goes, the name on the front of the jersey is more important than the name on the back.

No apologies necessary

Lemme get this straight -- The Canadian women's hockey team, after a stirring and emotional gold medal-winning performance against Team USA, was forced to issue a public apology for their postgame celebration, all because some photos of them were taken on the ice with -- gasp -- bottles of CHAMPAGNE and BEER, in front of an empty arena, no less.

Sports teams have been celebrating victories with champagne showers since, well, always. I've personally been splattered by the bubbly as a reporter in winning locker rooms on several occasions. But because this time, the celebrants were women, or "amateurs," that makes it bad enough to put a damper on the most exciting moment of their lives? Gimme a break. What a double standard. Our society needs to be a lot less uptight about things it shouldn't be concerned about.

Hopefully, we won't be hearing the same kind of garbage after the men's final should the celebration get a little "wild," no matter who wins. And tomorrow's USA-Canada finale has all the makings of an instant classic. Should be a great one.

Miracle on Ice - circa 1960

Hi again ... couldn't help noticing there's been plenty of talk about the 30th anniversary of the "Miracle on Ice" at Lake Placid (has it really been that long ago?!?), but I also noticed that when Team USA beat Canada on Sunday night, they were wearing "throwback" uniforms from the "original" Miracle in 1960, when the US stunned Canada (and the Soviets) by winning gold in Squaw Valley.

What a coincidence, then, that Sunday marked the first time the US defeated Canada in Olympic hockey since ... 1960. No, the US did not face Canada in 1980.

BTW, what a great job putting this team together. While there are no superstars on this team (like the NHL All-Star team Canada has), the Langenbrunners, Drurys, Rafalskis, Millers and all the Ryans are playing a more effective, grinding game ... much like their predecessors 30 years ago. Maybe these guys really are throwbacks after all. Good luck against the Swiss tonight.

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Always trying to stay abreast of best practices in PR, especially as they pertain to the ever-changing social media landscape. Attended an interesting New England Pub Club event last night in Newton regarding Social Media Case Studies. A special shout-out to Meagan Ellis of Kel and Partners, who discussed her firm's twitter-driven campaign that put a small client on the map. Great job.

Back again

Just a quickie ... so much has happened since my last post, and in a way, a lot has stayed the same. More later ...