Although NHL comes out swinging, the Stanley Cup seems empty
Three minutes into August’s first-ever Stanley Cup playoff, the Carolina Hurricanes’ Justin Williams challenged the New York Rangers’ Ryan Strome to a fistfight.
Williams is 38, and I did not hear him explain why he felt the need to assault Strome. Perhaps he was retaliating for some opening body checks by the Rangers. Or perhaps he was retaliating for Jacob Slavin scoring 61 seconds into the game. Some powerful right crosses were exchanged, but to what end?
I’ve long railed against hockey fighting, arguing that it’s not a fundamental part of the game. American college players have shown that, as have the European pros. And if there’s one time most of us can agree that fighting is wrong, it’s when the world is gripped by coronavirus. Droplets from the mouth, droplets of sweat from the bare knuckles. Fighting is the very opposite of social distancing.
I suppose my Canadian friends will say, “What coronavirus?” They live in a country that believes in science and has all but crushed the pandemic even though prime minister Justin Trudeau and his wife both tested positive in March. Canadians do not want people from my heavily contaminated country invading theirs. And by the way, they will never forget we did that to them in the 18th and 19th centuries.
While Covid ravages Major League Baseball, the National Basketball Association and – most of all – the National Football League, the National Hockey League reports zero infections as it bubbles up and battens down in Toronto and Edmonton.
But they shouldn’t get cocky about it. This is no time to let down your guard and drop your mitts. Especially when there are no fans in the stands to revel in the nonsense.
Saturday’s hockey schedule produced another boxing match, as Calgary’s Matt Tkachuk outfought the much larger Blake Wheeler of Winnipeg.
Of much more concern to Winnipeg was another blow delivered by Tkachuk, a kick of a skate that sliced the leg of Mark Scheifele. Tkachuk was properly remorseful, calling it “a terrible accident.” But Jets coach Paul Maurice examined videos from multiple angles and declared, “It was intentional. It was a filthy, disgusting kick to the back of his leg. It could have cut his Achilles.”
Much like football, hockey combines crippling violence with sublime athleticism, speed and grace. Unfortunately, brutality is the main story in the beginning of this Stanley Cup season.
After his team lost 3-2 to Carolina, Rangers coach David Quinn sagely observed: “Being tough isn’t running people and hitting people. Being tough is getting to the net. We’ve gotta find a way to get inside; we’re too perimeter.”
The same complaint could be made of the Boston Bruins. They have the best record in the NHL and probably the best team, but they were docile in their postseason opener Sunday. They lost 4-1 to the Philadelphia Flyers and their dialed-in 21-year-old goalie Carter Hart.
Another storied team that didn’t answer the opening bell was Sidney Crosby’s Pittsburgh Penguins. They were supposed to annihilate the Montreal Canadiens, who had stripped down their roster thinking they weren’t going to the playoffs.
Sid was Sid –- 5 shots on goal with one going in. But Cary Price made 39 saves and Montreal won 3-2 in overtime.
Quinn was most distressed by his Rangers’ 0-for-7 power play. New York overall was outshot 37-26, and that game would not have been close if not for vintage goaltending by 38-year-old Henrik Lundqvist, subbing for Igor Shesterkin. Typical of NHL coaches, Quinn offered no reason for his player’s absence. But since Shesterkin was seen in the stands, it’s safe to assume it wasn’t pandemic-related.
Speaking of stands, the emptiness definitely detracted from this sport. The games look like practices. There isn’t much scoring in hockey games – about 2 ½ goals per team. The thrill is in the anticipation, the rushes up the ice, as the crowd roars. And the body-thumping seems so much more meaningful when it brings an audience to life.
Basketball has its constant parade of scoring, and all you need is enough piped-in cheering to muffle the shrill squeak of the players’ shoes. Baseball has its poignant pauses that take on drama of their own as fans watching on television can strategize along with the managers and pitchers. There’s no sport I’d rather watch than Stanley Cup hockey, but I’m not sure that’s what we’re seeing.
