Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Evicted

The big news out of Omaha today is that the University of Nebraska at Omaha (UNO) hockey team has been displaced by the evil empire that is the Metropolitan Events and Convention Authority (MECA) for the second time in a year.

The UNO Mavericks call the 3-year old Qwest Center Omaha home for hockey games. They share primary tenant status with Creighton University's basketball program (though, CU usually gets priority). But in the mindless drunken stupor that is the shortsidedness of the MECA Board of Directors, they double-booked the Qwest Center in mid-February. Earlier this year, MECA somehow won the bid to host the Nebraska State Wrestling Meet in the Qwest Center-- a meet that as long as anyone can remember was held in Lincoln.

I don't mind the wrestling meet coming to Omaha, not one bit. I don't care for the sport, it's a waste of time. But if the people of Nebraska see it fit to give it some time-- let them waste their time with it. But why the hell is a primary tenant being bumped for this?

Maybe my anger should not be directed in whole at MECA, because there had to have been discussions about these circumstances. The Central Collegiate Hockey Association (CCHA) could have scheduled UNO to be on the road for that weekend. But we must ask in what order do the schedules come in?

When did UNO have to provide a list of priority dates for the 2005-2006 season? When did the wrestling tournament bid become official? And when did the CCHA release a preliminary schedule (not the official schedule, just the first draft)?

If UNO or CCHA acted before MECA won the bid for wrestling-- then the blame fall solely on MECA. If MECA won the bid, and UNO requested the dates of the wrestling meet as priority dates-- MECA is still to blame, as UNO should not be denied a priority date. But if the wrestling meet was scheduled, and UNO requested to be on the road for that weekend, then the CCHA is to blame for this.

If you've noticed-- I'm not blaming UNO for this. Beyond signing a poor lease (which was done by a previous regime), they are not at fault here. They have every expectation for their home arena to be available to them. And we forget that last year, UNO graciously stepped aside, moving a non-conference series to the 50+ year old Civic Auditorium (their former home), so that Creighton could schedule a Bracket Buster game for ESPN, which moved a rodeo (scheduled during the Bracket Buster) to a different weekend. It was a one-time deal made by UNO, and the key words were 'non-conference series' and 'Creighton'.

There is a difference in this situation. The hockey series being bumped to the older, smaller arena is against Michigan. Michigan travels well, and the last four games that Michigan has played in Omaha have averaged just under 10,000 in attendance. The Civic seats only 8,300. And this year, those games were expected to be a clash of two teams fighting for home ice in the playoffs, meaning you could certainly expect a huge crowd.

But what pisses me off more than anything else about this, is the conflict of interests among the members of the MECA Board of Directors-- specifically Chairman David Sokol, and President/CEO Roger Dixon. Dixon's conflict of interests is simply that he will stomp anyone and anything so that he can keep going to the bank. He has done nothing but attmept to screw UNO over since he took control of both Qwest Center and the Civic. Sure, UNO had to sign off on the contract, but again many of those responsible for that are no longer in the public eye.

But Sokol? Let's think about this very carefully. Mr. Sokol owns a stake in Omaha's new AHL franchise-- a team that takes residence in the Civic. I do not have a problem with teams owning their home arenas (I think it would be a great idea for UNO to invest in their own arena). But, it is Sokol's name on the team, and MECA's name on the building-- that is not ownership by the same party, and having the owner of one be the chairman of the other is not proper. Sokol is in a position of coruption, where he can cut himself a deal, and screw his closest competition (UNO). Even if he is not doing this... he should not be in the position where it can happen. Others have lost their jobs over less controversial-looking connections.

UNO is getting the raw deal here. MECA will make money no matter if the game is played in Qwest Center, or the Civic, and they have the benefit of the revenue from the wrestling meet. UNO stands to lose the revenue of at least 2,000 fans that won't be able to find seats in the Civic. They lose the home-ice advantage that goes with adapting to the confines of Qwest Center. And they lose a showcase series in the 'crown jewel' of Omaha.

What MECA has done is left the city in chaos. UNO is pissed. UNO fans are pissed. I'm sure Michigan is pissed that they had to deal with the uncertainty of when and where the series will be. Are anybody but Dixon and Sokol smiling about this?

MECA needs to do the right thing. Admit they fucked up. They need to give the citizens of Omaha full disclosure of what transpired-- the discussions, the contracts, the statistics, everything. This whole situation stinks like bathrooms of the old Aksarben Coliseum.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Who Are You to Judge?

Call me a hypocrite. We are all guilty of it. And there is no other way to talk about it than to be hypocritical. You know what I'm refering to.

Those little comments we make about each other to our friends. Some of us are worse than others. But why do we do it? It is one of those things that we find socially acceptable because everyone else does it?

I just don't get what you can accomplish by talking about someone (and their life) to a third party. My mother is the worst at this. She can't help but make her own commentary about the way someone lives. She blasts me, my father, my brother, her father, her mother-- and there is irony there-- her in-laws, her friends, her coworkers, her patients, people she just met... nobody is safe.

And most of the time it's about people I don't know, or something I don't care to know about. And I understand, when she bags on my brother, or me. File that under "Mother Allegedly Knows Best". And my dad, classify that as nagging. But her parents? If I were to talk to her like that, I'd have to deal with her wrath. You know, that point in time when your mother says to you: "I brought you into the world, and I can take you out of it, too." (Whatever that means, I don't think that will fly in court on a murder charge, but OK, whatever.)

The irony is, her mother is the same way-- and my mom can't stand it. When her parents come to visit, a frequent sound is of my grandmother talking about people who my mother met once, when she was 6 (back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, people wrote with feathers, and televisions had no colour-- when TVs were just black and white, could people see in colour? Or was it like 'Pleasantville'?), and going through the entire history, all while my mother rolls her eyes and grinds her teeth. If you don't like it when your mother does it-- why torture us?

And then there is a friend of mine. Always talking about her sister, her brother-in-law, her parents... to me. Why? I hardly know these people. Do I care that you think your brother-in-law is a useles pile of dung? Do I care that you think your sister made the biggest mistake of her life? No. But if you care so much-- tell her, see how that goes over.

The point is, it's not your life. You didn't make the decisions. And there is certainly nothing you can do or say to change it-- especially when you say it to a third party! People do learn from their mistakes. And we all make mistakes. None of us are perfect-- and as such, none of us have any reason to think we could do better with someone else's life. So stop doing it!

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Mind Games of the Good Kind

Some students do better work right before a dealine.
Michael Jordan used to play better when he was sick.
Me? I seem to do better when my mind is on something else.

OK, I've lost you. How can I be good at something when I'm obviously not thinking about it? I don't know either, but that's the way it seems.

I am a terrible bowler. I carry an average around 130 (yes, that bad). Most days it is a struggle for me to reach 100-- but I am getting a bit better. But than in April, something happened. While bowling in a tornament-- where I was forced to bowl with a 140 minimum average-- something went wrong. I went out and bowled a 247. Who knew? My team was amazed, I was in shock, and many thought I was a sandbagger. I guess I just hit the zone-- the next day it was gone. A teammate suggested I just do what I did at this tournament. That screwed me up. Why? Well, when I threw that great game my mind wasn't on bowling-- it was on a woman. For some reason I couldn't get her off my mind. But when my teammate suggested I keep thinking of her, it didn't work-- why not? They got me thinking to hard.

Now, I know what my problem is in bowling-- consistency. I've only been at this for 2 years (and had maybe bowled like a dozen times before that in my life), so I haven't found a groove when it comes to my approach. And it gets to the point where I'll throw a great ball, then try to do the exact same thing, and end up chasing the lane the rest of the night. It gets to the point where I'm up at the rack pacing like Nuke LaLoosh in 'Bull Durham' saying "Don't think... just throw... don't think... just throw."

And I've realized it's not the only time I've done well while not thinking about what I'm doing.

In high school, I used to take my anger to the ice with me. You know, I'd breakup with my girlfriend, be pissed off at the world, not say a thing to anyone at the rink, go out and post a shutout. The whole game, I'm just thinking about how pissed off I was at this girl. You'd think, I'd be such an emotional mess, that I just wouldn't care about the game. Well, that one got so bad, that come playoff time, my teammates would bring girls into the dressing room for to break up with me. I should have reminded them, that no matter how well I play, if they don't play well, we won't win.

I also remember one game we won 9-0... I faced eight shots. We didn't allow a shot in the first period-- and at the end of the period I remember telling the guys on the bench I was so bored, that I had already hummed every song I knew three times. How bored was I? I faced only one shot in the second period as well-- and that was a 120-foot attempt at icing, that happened to curl on net. But somehow through that, I stayed sharp.

I remember the second best game I've ever bowled. I think it was like a 190. And that was a day I had a Skye Sweetnam song stuck in my head. It was a more terrifying experience than you think.

Even physical pain seems to bring out the best in me. I went through a stretch in high school soccer as a sophomore, when I was forced to play through back spams-- I don't suggest anyone do that. I played as well as any other time during that year.

Even head injuries-- yes, I've had my share. In high school, I used to play through Post Concussion Syndrome-- and it's not like it was a secret that I was suffering, you could see it in my eyes. But those were the games I was at my best. Or even just games when I'd get dinged. Playing in juniors, we marched into the defending league champs barn, shorthanded (we had 10 skaters, and my backup goalie quit the team right before the game), two nights after losing to them 10-3 at home. Thirty seconds into the game, I'm on my back after someone tried to wrap a stick around my head (we knew they would try to come after me, if I'm out, we don't have a goalie). We scored on the powerplay, and went on to a 6-1 romp (I'm sure Adam has the newspaper article somewhere). For some reason I'm wondering how much my head is going to hurt the next morning, and I just zone in on the game.

It baffles me-- of course, I have ADD, so my mind isn't exactly normal.

Moral of the story is-- don't try too hard, I guess.

But I'm curious, does anybody else have stories about similar situations? Or does anyone have some advice for bowling?

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Hey, You Can't Park That Thing Here

Ah yes, the first week of class. You can smell the fear in the freshmen. And if you can get a frosh to look up from their schedule or their campus map, I'm sure you could see the fear in their eyes, too.

The sights and sounds of the new semester: freshmen sprinting across campus-- for fear they might be late, bands on the quad, free food at the student center, and who can forget everyone's favourite combination... the parking Nazis in full-force, and the frosh whining about the parking situation.

Time to grow up kiddies.

You are old enough to find a solution to your problems, mommy and daddy aren't hear anymore. You should be practicing self-relience. If you can correct the damage you mom made to the computer, you can certainly find an alternative to parking on campus. Try parking off campus. I've done it since I enrolled-- because I refuse to pay $60 (or whatever they charge now) to MAYBE get a parking spot on campus. I'll just save my money for something better, thank you.

Of course, right now that is not as efficient as it will be. Just give it time.

UNO offers a shuttle service from Crossroads Mall, about a 1/2 mile west of campus. Parking is free in the parking garage, which is NEVER full. You just have to allow for an extra 15 minutes to take the shuttle to campus-- 30 minutes the first couple weeks of class. You know, eventually people start ditching, carpool, walk, or find other (closer) free parking spots.

But I do have a complaint about the off campus parking. In a parking garage, that at best is 1/4 full at any given time. Why are they making more restrictions on where UNO students can park? I understand the parking garage is for mall patrons, but you have already reserved a couple levels just for mall parking, so why level further restrictions?

Why?

Did the bluehairs complain because they had to walk an extra 20 feet before they could start their daily 8 AM walk around the mall itself? It's not like people were parking in the handicapped spaces. And it's not like the level with the new restrictions was always full. So, why tell us we have to park in the back corner of the garage?

Let's think about this. What they have just done is opened the door for someone to target the cars of UNO students. We have just gathered the cars of students into an isolated section, out of site form most of the garage. That's just asking for a spree of breakins and car thefts.

Hundreds of cars, and students who will be gone for an extended period of time. A mall patron might appear at any time. A student, you know will be gone for at least an hour, and their cars are just ripe for the picking. When you have open parking, nobody knows exactly which car is a UNO car, and which is a mall car-- meaning the owner could appear at any time. Or the person parked next to a UNO car could appear. While it doesn't eliminate the potential, it narrows the striking window for thefts.

You had better believe if I see one UNO car having been broken into, I'll be talking to mall security (and campus security) in a heartbeat. They are just asking for trouble-- and they don't care, they all have reserved parking spots, in safer locations. As long as their cars are safe, they won't care. It's a croc, plain and simple.

So stay tuned for next week, when my rant will be about how UNO, Crossroads Mall, and the City of Omaha owe me for my car (or what was stolen out of it).

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

I'm Blind, I'm Deaf...

... I wanna be a Ref!

(Alternate Title: That Deaf, Dumb, and Blind Kid Sure Calls a Mean Offsides)

OK, this has nothing to do with how I blew a call, but it does have to do with a game I called this weekend. This one was a no-brainer. (Even Tarzan/96 could figure this one out)

I moonlight as a referee in a men's league-- basically, I'm there to stay in shape, and earn a few extra bucks. It gives me something to do during the offseason-- when I frequently work youth, high school, and even college hockey games.

Just to set the situation, I normally don't work beginner games-- they usually reserve me for the non-beginner games, they don't have many experienced officials for this league, so the guys who are learning the ropes, and paying off league debts get the beginner games. This week, the two non-beginner games were the late games. Apparently, a couple players in the last game thought it would be fun to go get 'faced before the game, then play.

So the games starts, and I can tell a couple of these guys ain't right. One was a former high-school teammate of mine. The other, a know-nothing blowhard, who thinks he's hot shit, and really doesn't care for my abilities as an official. He ranks just above Tarzan on my list of favourite people.

After the first shift, I approached my former teammate, told him I didn't think it was the best idea for him to be playing while drunk. He agreed, and sat down on the bench. I hadn't noticed his teammate, who was just a drunk. But when I caught a whiff of him from a range of about 12-feet, I knew we had to get him off the ice.

But I got smart.

I didn't appraoch him-- I prefer not to deal with his type. I sent another member of the officiating crew-- who happened to be the league commissioner, and less tolerant of bullshit than I am. I swear, I thought the drunk was going to swing at him. We sent him off. But we weren't done with him.

He naturally took up residence in the stands, and continued a verbal assault on us. I ignored him-- we knew he was drunk, I knew he was just being himself, and he was no threat to anyone as long as he was sitting.

But after the game, he started stalking me in the parking lot. And I knew he was waiting for me. So, I just walked right by him, and as he showered me with praises (read: obscenities), I continued walking.

I stopped among some friends in the parking lot, as is customary following games. I figured I had some sanctuary among the group. So, I didn't mind when he started yelling at me from across the table. His ranting did not go over well with the group, but he finally got an answer out of me.

His question: "Why do you have to be such an asshole?"

My answer: "You get shitfaced, and go play hockey... and I'm the asshole? No. You were not only a danger to yourself, but everybody else on the ice, and my official's insurance does not cover your drunk ass."

I figured throwing out rules citations would get me nowhere with him. And yes, there is a rule prohibiting the use of alcohol (and tobacco) at the ice rink.

But I don't get it. Why do people think I'm a ref to be a badass? I'm not. I'd much rather just go out, skate for an hour, and be done with it. I don't want to have to call penalties, or sort out fights. But there is a reason I'm there.

So the next time you are at a sporting event, just remember, the officials are there for safety and rule interpretation.

Just don't remind me of this the next time I go off on a CCHA official.

Monday, August 22, 2005

About the Place I Live

I just love it when people ask me where I'm from. I have so many answers, and it all depends on how you ask me.

Where are you from? Where were you born? -- Suburban Chicago
Where is home? -- Winnipeg
Where do you live? -- Omaha

Very rarely do I fess up to being from Omaha. Why? Quite simply I don't like it here. I have never felt like I belonged here.

Now, don't get me wrong. There are some great people out here. But there are many who just need to get their priorities straight. And it starts with Husker Football.

The Huskers are the be all, end all of life out here. And it is the start of what I hate about Nebraska. From July through mid-January, and again around spring break, the lead stroy of the local news is Husker Football. World War III could break out, and the local media would still lead with who has a hangnail in Husker camp. And if you happen to be in the state of Nebraska on a Saturday during the fall, don't expect too much to happen-- the entire state shuts down during a Husker football game. Seriously, if the Huskers play a late afternoon game, go to church-- nobody else will be there. Yes, Husker football ranks above church on the priority list here. Isn't that sad? What is even sadder is that during a Husker home game, Memorial Stadium, in Lincoln, would qualify as the third-largest city in the state, in terms of population. Now, who would really care to keep track of that stat? Husker football fans. They live, eat, breathe Husker football. And if you aren't a Husker football fan-- you are the enemy. A wise friend of mine (who hates the Huskers as much as I do) summed it up this way-- it's a college sport state, and Omaha is a college sports town. He's right, it's a culture shock coming from Chicago as I do, but it still doesn't make sense to me, because in the end, it is college athletics-- treat it as such. But we don't need 16 pages of redundancy in the newspaper. You watched the game, you've read the first two stories about the game-- the next 24 articles are going to tell you the same. How about some coverage of other area teams?

Which brings me to my next point. Treating college sports as college sports. OK, I understand-- there are no professional teams in the state of Nebraska. But if you go anywhere else in the nation, most of the local media coverage for college teams is done by college students. Not here. Everything here is done by people who are paid as professionals. But there is an effect on the schools themselves. This one effects me directly. I would love to step into the broadcast booth and call a UNO Hockey game. Won't happen. The deal is given out to professionals for UNO Hockey, just as it is for Husker Football. Which raises the question-- how the hell am I supposed to gain broadcasting experience, if there are no opportunities for me? One of the best hockey broadcasters out there is Pat Foley, of the Chicago Blackhawks. I hope someday to be as good of a broadcaster as he. Where did he get his start in broadcasting? He called Michigan State hockey games as a student. Seriously, why can't the University of Nebraska, and the rest of the schools in the system, provide an opportunity for students to get their feet wet in the world of broadcasting? They are screwing their own students over, all because they place too high of an emphasis on the college games themselves. It's college sports! Let the kids work the games!

Which brings me to the media market itself. 4 network affiliates, 1 newspaper, giant blackhole. Omaha thinks of itself as a major market. It's not. In the ten years since I first moved to Omaha, I can only think of two people to move on from Omaha-- one (Dave Webber) is actually still here, but at least he does national commercials for Mutual of Omaha; the other is best known for the blooper reel, when he was attacked by an iguana (Michael Scott). This seems to be a place where people's careers either fizzloe out, or they don't wish to move on... and I don't get it. Going into my final year as a broadcasting major, I am facing an internship and a job search. Omaha is not among the places I am looking. I will serve out my internship at KYNE (PBS), but I would much rather go to a smaller market and work my way up. Why? For one, I hope that it keeps me out of the blackhole that is Omaha. The other reason is, I'm trying to be reasonable-- I know I'll have to start out small, and move up. But who knows, maybe I'll end up somewhere, where I wouldn't mind staying for 30-odd years, and raising a family. In all reality, I'm hoping to end up in a small market, around my extended family, somewhere... where I will feel like I belong. But you never know what the future holds.

Belonging. Why is it that I have been here off and on for 10 years, and I still don't consider this home? It has to do with the people. As I have said before, there are some great people out here... but there are others who are just so arrogant and egotistical, that they feel the need to break you down. I lived in Winnipeg for two years, but within a month of living there, I felt like I belonged. And that was while I was living in a hotel! One family, knowing I had no family, and knowing I was living in a hotel, invited me for Thanksgiving dinner. And then there was the offer from the girl at the front desk of the hotel to move into the extra room in her appartment, and all that before I met my billets-- who didn't know me, yet still invited me to join their family. These are things I have not seen in Omaha. There are three words that define the majority of people in Omaha-- Rich Republican Huskers. We've already covered the Husker portion.

Money-- you may not know it, but Omaha has more millionaires per capita, than any other city. And they make sure you know about it. Excess is the word in Omaha. Believe me, I coached soccer for my church's school. I had an incident with the parent of a seven-year old. As an assistant coach, I had asked a player to sit down and cheer on his teammates-- as opposed to running around near the swingset. The parent, appearently did not believe in discipline, as he responded to me "you can't tell me son what to do." (Let me just say, when I grew up, my neighbours knew my parents, and if I did anything out of line, they had permission to discipline me, and I knew my parents would find out. It kept me in line most of the time, and I am a better person because of it.) Astounded, the only reply I could think of was "I am here to coach your son and the rest of this team, that gives me the authority to tell you child what they need to be doing. But if you are of the impression that I have no authority over your child, then I am of no service as a coach." I tendered my resignation that next morning. I felt bad about turning my back on these kids, but it's not like I left them without a coach. I had simply had enough of the elitist attitudes, and I wasn't about to let anyone put me down because I'm not rich. There is a serious problem around here with people, their money, and a lack of discipline. I believe (and this is an unofficial statistic) that not only does Omaha lead in millionaires per capita, I believe they also lead in single-mothers per capita, and the two are related. People who have money seem to believe they are better than anyone else, and you can't tell them differently, which leads to a lack of discipline among their children, who know that mommy and daddy can buy things right.

Politics-- if you are not a Republican, you are not a Husker. Not all Republicans are bad, but they are as gung-ho for Republicanisms as they are for the Huskers-- and again, you can't tell them any differently. And they all kiss ass like it's going out of style. I just have to ask-- whatever happened to speaking your mind? I said, YOUR mind, not someone else's, and not the Party's. People don't think for themselves, they go by what the Republican Party tells them, what the media (who is in the pocket of the Republicans) tell them, and what the Husker coach tells them. And if that is not bad enough... I have three words for you for the October election: Governor Tom Osborne. It's inevitable, and hopefully I will be gone before he takes his oath of office. It will signify everything that is wrong with this state. I mean, at least Illinois thought twice about making Mike Ditka a Senator.

I'm sorry, but many people-- mostly those in charge-- refuse to think out here. Check the history of the City of Omaha. There was no civic planning. And there still isn't. Check out where the construction is in Omaha: West Dodge Road, West Center Road, Fort St, West Maple Road, Blondo Street, Harrison Street-- they all run parallel to each other, and are all major thouroughfares. Pick one, fix it, then move on to the next.

I hate to break it to the people of Omaha, but this is not heaven. I'm sorry to be so harsh, but at least I can tell you what's on my mind. Is there anything I can do to change it? No. It's their lives, and they can live however they want. I am simply here to finish my education. Once I get my diploma, I'm gone. And there are a few people I will miss-- most notably, those people who supoorted me through my hockey playing days, and those who took the time to get to know me. And I hope to keep in touch with them. But there is not much else I will miss about this place.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Moving on Up

Chris Holt, a teammate of mine in college, left the University of Nebraska at Omaha (UNO) hockey progam to sign with the New York Rangers. Congrats to him. I wish him the best of luck-- and deep down, hope he doesn't do it all in New York, as it will pain me to cheer for the Rangers-- but having a teammate playing for them will grant them a temporary pardon in my eyes... unless of course he ends up in Hartford, or just isn't playing the game I'm watching.

Since the rumours about him leaving broke about him leaving for the pros-- late Monday, I have spent a lot of time just reminising about my brief 3 month tenure as his teammate. And I can't think of one bad thing to say about him.

Which brings me to my rant for the day...

How can ANYONE bash Holtzy? Some are saying he screwed over his teammates. Some are just mad because he left UNO two years early. Some made comments about greed and money. And some have resorted to bashing his play, saying we are better off without him.

Guess what? I'm going to address all of those right here, right now.

Did Holtzy screw over his teammates? No. He left before the season starts, so the plaers can go into captain's practices and the season with a clear mind. He's not in the dressing room causing a distraction by making his unhappiness known, he's not hurting them with his play because he has too much on his mind. He made the decision to leave before the season started, and the team, come Monday-- when classes start-- will have a clean slate in front of them. They are not expecting Holtzy to walk in the dressing room door, and lead them out on to the ice. Holtzy's gone, the focus turns to Eric Aarnio, Jerad Kaufman, and Joe Grossman between the pipes for the Mavericks, and to Scott Parse, Bill Thomas, Dan Knapp, Joe Grimaldi, and the rest of the players on the ice. No use dwelling over the fact that Chris Holt is no longer on the team.

And why are people made because he left early? It is Holtzy's life, let him choose what he does with it. Did he commit for 4 years, when he signed his scholarship? Sure. But situations change. Just as they did when 3 weeks ago he told me he was coming back for his junior year of college. I don't think he for a minute thought that the Rangers would approach him about signing. Perhaps as the situation developed, Holtzy took the Rangers a bit more serious about it-- thought about it, slept on it, and decided that the time was right to move on. Think about it. Holt is 20 years old. If you figure the average NHLer retires at age 35, that gives Holtzy 15 years of playing time. If he waits until he graduates, that's two years off of that time (maybe 3 if he gets injured), and possibly two years off his NHL career. And then there is the injury issue. Say he spurned the Rangers, and came back to UNO-- what happens if he blows a knee against Army at the Maverick Stampede. Now what happens to his career? An unjury like that could have teken him out of the Rangers plans, and thwarted what could very well be a great NHL career. Bottom line is, to some extent now is not the worst time for him to go.

The money issue. This one really pisses me off. Am I mad because the Rangers offered Holtzy enough money to get him to leave school? Hell no. I am mad about the comments that are being made. One shallow-minded, rude, infantile, meat-eating, me-Tarzan-you-Jane moron went as far as to say "I hope it was worth the money" to Holt. To that individual: Go to hell... go directly to hell... do not pass Go... do not collect $200. What the hell kind of a person makes that comment? Holtzy made was is quite possibly the toughest decision in his life. And I for one believe it was not about the money at all. And NOBODY should assume that he left just for money. For all we know, he signed for the league minimum. I think the decision simply came down to Holtzy simply wanting to continue to progress and improve him game-- and the only way to do that is to continue moving up the ladder. Contary to popular belief-- not every values money as the be-all, end-all of life. Yes, he could stand to make millions from leaving school now, but let us not forget that he can always go back to school when his playing days are over.

And finally, those idiots who continually bash the way Holt plays, or the way he carries himself. You people don't know him. I'm sure some of you have met him, but have you spent every day of a 3 month period (or for those who were on the roster the full year-- an entire 6 month season)? You get to know people when you spend that much time around them. People called him cocky. You have to be to be a successful goaltender-- you have to believe that you can stop anything and everything that is sent in your direction. The second you say to yourself or anybody else, I can't do it-- you're done. So, yes, he was cocky-- but that was a far cry from having an ego about it. Off the ice, with no pads on, Holtzy is a very humble guy, and a gentleman. And stop with the-- I'm glad Holt left, he wasn't that great bullshit. Two years ago, when he got here, he was a nervous wreck, and got thrown into the fire. He was also saddled with the task of replacing Dan Ellis (who also left for the pros)-- who some consider the God of UNO Goaltenders. Not exactly an easy thing to do. He came in, did the best he could, and has steadily improved. In fact, he led this team into Joe Louis Arena-- and he did it with several people questioning his ability. To the people who doubt his ability-- Shut the hell up. He has enough ability to be a goaltender, that the New York Rangers see him playing for them this year. He is that good. The other end of it is. Raise your hand if you have played goalie in hockey before. If you have done so at the junior hockey level. If you have done so at the college hockey level. If you have done so for youtr country's national team. And if you are going to do so at the NHL level. I can relate to Holt because I was in it until the last one (there is a story behind the second to last one for me). I know what it takes to go out and be a goaltender. Not many others do. And to them, I ask them not to comment until they, themselves, know what it is like to be in Holt's shoes.

Now that I have all that off of my chest. I wish Chris Holt the best of luck in his future pursuits. I know how hard it must be for him to leave UNO behind-- and believe me, I have faced that same decision many times during my hockey career. It is a gamble he must take to move up. I want to make sure he knows how much of an honour it was to be a teammate of his. I looked up to him (even through he is 4 years younger than me)-- and it wasn't that he towered over me. He was that strong of a teammate. I look forward to seeing him playing the NHL in the near future. I hope it is a long and prosperous career for him.

Good luck, Holtzy... and keep your stick on the ice.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Natalie, Me, and Tommy Lee

Well, crap.

I was hoping to totally avoid this whole clusterfuck that is the NBC show "Tommy Lee Goes to College". I hadn't planned on watching it. I wasn't planning on discussing it. I was hoping it wouldn't last more than two weeks. But now, I've been dragged into it.

I know "the hot tutor". I went to high school with Natalie Riedmann, and her sister-- her sister was a year ahead of me, Natalie herself I believe was two years behind. And yes, she was as hot then, as she is now. I wanted her. I think we all did.

So what is the significance of this? Nothing really, other than I remember taking a computer programming class with her. And actually, I remember helping her with several projects-- when we weren' passing emails making fun of the teacher or other faculty members. Of course, she wasn't an idiot-- both her and her sister were very intelligent (surprising if you've seen Natalie-- she comes across as someone who'd get by on looks) and well versed in mathematics. But hey-- I tutored "the hot tutor". Not that I care, not that it should matter to anyone else. It just gave me a reason to blog today.

OK, on to the rant.

The show is stupid idea. Wow, a 41-year old moron goes to the biggest party school in the land. I mean, at Nebraska (Lincoln) instead of listing your honours at graduation, they read your rap sheets. The football team collects arrests and bought-out acquittals like the Florida State football team collects those little tomahawk stickers.

Do you want to turn some heads? Do you you really want to piss some people off? Send Tommy Lee to Yale. Or maybe Princeton. Or Duke. Or at least some semblence of an actual respected academic isnstitution-- Tommy Lee becomes a Gamecock. Hell, he's halfway there-- if you know what I mean.

People wonder why I want out of this god-forsaken state. It's stupid shit like this... and the future Governor Osborne... and I don't mean to insult some of my friends here, but even some of them can't believe the garbage that goes on here.

So in closing...

Welcome to Nebraska: Where the people are as dull as the land, and the gene pool is as shallow as the Platte.

Friday, August 12, 2005

AK47s for Hunting?

The state of Iowa recently approved the use of AK47s in an attempt to keep the deer population down in southern portions od Iowa.

Is that really necessary?

First of all, while I am not totally opposed to hunting, it is something you will never see me do. But I do understand, it is a part of culture-- native culture. The natives of this land needed to hunt bear, buffalo, snake, bird, and other various creatures of the world for food, shelter, clothing, and other important facits of life. To them hunting wasn't a sport. It was a matter of life and death. And they treated it as such.

Secondly, they didn't use guns. To defeat the creatures of the would, they used the supplies of the world-- sticks, stones, etc-- things they picked up from the land, and sculpted into arrows, tomahawks, and other weapons. They didn't have guns, or explosives. They were resourceful. They had to. Blowing a huge hole in the side of a buffalo puts a hinderence in the way of using that hide at the caover for your tepee.

Which brings me to point three... the fact that we, in this present day, have become wasteful. The natives used every part of the animals they slaughtered. Quite simply, we dont. We blow up these small creatures, and sometime eat their flesh, and sometimes mount their heads on our walls. But what do we do with the bones, and the hooves, and the other parts of the carcases? They go to waste, don't they. Waste, waste, waste.

Our enhancements in technlogy have taken the necessity out of hunting. It is not a way of life anymore, it has become sport-- and that is wrong... sports should be fun, and should not end in death. If you feel the need to go out and find some free deer meat, show us some skill-- use a bow and arrow. Not a gun that should not be allowed to exist on our streets the way it is.

And I know, there is the arguement that "if you outlaw guns, only outlaws will have guns"... fine. But tell me the use of your gun-- if it is for anything other than shooting someone or something, then you really don't need it.

And the argument that we are attempting to control the animal population doesn't fly either. We are simply enfringing on their land (kinda like we did to the natives), and now we are forcing them into more concentrated areas, where they are bound to clash with us. It's our own fault, people. Besides, Mother Nature has her own ways of control the population, it's called disease and famine-- and she can use it against us, as well. Let her solve the issue in her own way.

Hunting is not a fair fight. A deer, a bear, a buffalo-- they can't hold guns. About the best they can do is kick a rock at you, or make a physical attack. So where is the sport in having a distinct advantage. Lay down your weapons, the British are not coming through your front door-- and we are not being oppressed by the Muslims of the world, we are repressing them.

And if you don't like what I'm saying-- take an aiming pose and look into the mirror. Do you like having guns aimed at you? I doubt it-- so why aim one at anyone or anything else?

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

'Roids, Weights, or Hard Work?

Whatever happened to attaining your goals through hard work?

Rafael Palmiero was once quoted about how the game of baseball has changed since he joined the major leagues. Who knew he would epitomize his own comments? In effect, Raffi said that when he first broke into the majors with the Cubs in the 80s, there were no weight rooms, you played through aches and pains, and following games there was a tub of beer sitting in the middle of the locker room.

Then again, Raffi says a lot of things.

But as an athlete, I have to wonder, whatever happened to hard work and a good work ethic? I just don't get it. When did how you look, and how strong you are become more important than how much skill you have? Maybe it is just a fad, maybe it is the in thing to do, but I have never been about what is in.

OK, I'm 6'-0", 220 pounds. And judging by the responses I get when I say that, apparently I don't look it. And I thank you for that compliment. But let's face it. If you saw me in the locker room before or after a baseball game or soccer match, of in the dressing room at a hockey game; nobody is going to be waiving dollar bills in my direction. I do not have one of those finely sculpted bodies-- I am not 'ripped'. And I don't care.

Somebody needs to explain to me how taking steroids, or benching 300 pounds is going to help me stop a hockey puck, or soccer ball, shoot a 3-pointer, or hit a baseball. They are totally unrelated activities.

Anybody remember Herschel Walker? He claimed to have never lifted a weight in his life.

Then again, he would do hundreds of pushups, situps, and pullups a day.

So please, forgive me for not rushing into the weight room. When we were pretty much forced to lift weights in high school, I never maxed out, I don't know how much I can bench-- I just know that when I fall, I can pick myself up off the ground. So, that's what? The equivalent of a 220 pound bench press, one time. But you couldn't just sit out gym class, right? So I'd spend my time of agility skills, and when I had, I'd put on a show at the hip sled. (Are we finding out where I hide my weight?)

What was my training regiment? Hard work at practice. I'd skate my ass off at hockey practice, and concentrate on my job-- stopping the puck. Between being a goalie in hockey and a catcher in baseball-- that's a lot of squatting-- and just the everyday rigors of hockey and baseball have built up the muscles in my legs. And we haven't even touched on soccer.

Now, I'm sure my reluctance to use weights probably cost me a chance to get off the bench at UNO. I have no regrets. I was a walk-on, I was a thrid-string player, but most importantly I was a student. And I was not about to sacrifice my academic standing to take part in an activity that I felt wasn't going to help me. Coach Kemp understood this, and simply told me to get in the weight room when I got the chance, and at least go through plyometrics. So I went to class, I'd check in the weight room for the plyometrics in between classes, I'd go to practice, and I'd go home and run through my plyometric drills. The strength and training coach didn't like me because of it-- but that is another rant for another time.

But there is one more reason I don't want bulging biceps or six-pack abs. Has anybody else noticed the frequency of which athletes miss games because of muscle strains or cramps? Only once have I been injured enough for it to be a concern for a coach-- that was during tryouts at Iowa State, when I pulled a groin muscle... and I played through it. I don't feel sorry for these so-called finely-tuned athletes who pull a hamstring muscle. It's the price they pay for spending too much tme on weights. Quite simply, if you are not pushing your muscles to their maximums, you're never going to go too far.

That said, I have still played athletics at the college level, and not many people have done that. I can stop some of the best athletes on the ice, and on the pitch. I can block a curveball in the dirt, and hit a baseball 400 feet. And I can do it all without the use of steroids, and without being on a strict weight program.

Do I see myself hitting the weights in the future? No. I've put my body through enough abuse over the past 20 years of hockey, soccer, and baseball. Why put it through more?

I am content of where I have been in my life. And I did it all through persistence and hard work. I never played politics, I never cheated. I got there through skill.

And for those of you who suggest I could have gone further had I taken advantage of something like the political games or even steroids, I say: Maybe I could have been more if others didn't cheat.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Bertuzzi to Return

Vancouver Canucks forward Todd Bertuzzi was reinstated after a 17-month suspension for sucker-punching Colorado Avalanch forward Steve Moore. Some people say the suspension is not enough. Do I agree? Yes and no.

17-months is a long time to be banned from a sport, and it's not like he brought the integrity of the game into question (Pete Rose). This was an isolated incident of violence on the ice-- unfortuantely it is part of the game, that someone will go braindead. But I still think Bertuzzi ha some time to serve-- he has only served 20 games, and any more you get 20 games for shoving a cameraman. I still think he should serve another 10 games.

And I know I am of the minority who think Bertuzzi should be reinstated-- many wanted him banned from the game permanently. To those people, I must say: get real.

Now, I understand. I have a completely unique view of the game of hockey-- I'm a fan, I'm a player, and I'm a ref. And the latter is the one that sets me apart.

I remember sitting in a bar, watching the game live on TV with a couple friends-- one from Edmonton, and the other was the great-grandson of Milt Schmidt (Milt was a part of Boston's famous Kraut Line), and an NHL scout-- not to mention a former enforcer in junior hockey. We saw the event unfold-- and when things like that happen while we're at the bar, they like to play a little game with me: they like to see what penalties I would call, and see what I saw in detail.

What did I see?

Obviously I saw Bertuzzi grab Moore's sweater from behind, reach around, and sucker punch him-- nobody can deny that. But from there everyone else seems to get hazy-- and being a ref, I am trained to see it in real time, and make a call-- and there is no time to think about it. Nobody's fault, just a different view I am provided with.

When Bertuzzi punched Moore, Moore turtled-- he wanted no part of Bertuzzi. But when he turtled, his skates kicked Bertuzzi's skates, toppling both of them, with Bertuzzi on top of Moore.

That could have been the end of it. Except for Andrei Nikolishin coming to the aid of Moore. OK, Nikolishin had good intentions, protecting a teammate, but he brought with him another member of the Canucks-- one who was attempting to keep Nikolishin off of Bertuzzi. Here's the thing not many people saw-- when Nikolishin, who had broken away from Mattias Ohlund, jumped he forced Moore's nose back to the ice, where he rolled his neck. I'm not a doctor, but my first thought when I saw that was that Moore was fine until Nikolishin got there. It was when Moore's nose stuck to the ice, when Nikolishin got there, that broke his neck.

And I'm sure someone is going to come here and say: Nikolishin had to jump Bertuzzi, because Bertuzzi was repeatedly punching Moore. I disagree. There was one punch thrown by Bertuzzi. When I'm watching for a punch, you look for the player to cock his arm back-- you know, load, then unload. The only punch thrown was the sucker punch. What is mistaken for a second punch is just the momentum of the players falling to the ice, with Bertuzzi's left hand still grabbing Moore's sweater, not a punch. And what is mistaken as a third punch occured when Nikolishin ran into Bertuzzi's elbow.

Did Bertuzzi deserve a game misconduct? Damn straight. Did he deserve a suspension? Yes. At the time, I figured, ok suspend him for the rest of the regular season, and the first round of the playoffs-- which would have been 16 games, plus 4 to 7 playoff games-- just for a round number, you could have argued for 25 games, including playoffs. Then again, I'm not the NHL disciplinarian. But in my estimation, Andrei Nikolishin is just as responsible as Bertuzzi for what happened to Moore's neck.

Of course, Moore's teammates should have known something would happen. The whole story behind the incident started some 9 earlier, when Moore delivered an elbow to the head of Vancouver's Markus Naslund. Naslund was knocked cold, Moore was given neither penalty nor suspension for the hit. The Canucks were upset, and someone made the mistake of vowing revenge for the hit on Naslund. The Canucks demanded satisfaction.

Moore probably thought the problem had been dealt with when he was involved in a first-period fight. Nobody checked with the Canucks, and Bertuzzi wanted another piece of him. And if you watch the tape, you can see Bertuzzi calling out Moore from behind. Moore ignored him, and Bertuzzi got his attention with a fist.

Speaking of the tape. My friend, the scout, got a copy of the game film-- both Colorado's feed, and Vancouver's. So just for fun he put my theories (what I saw) to the test. He was amazed. In a span of not more than 10 frames-- for those who don't know that is about a third of a second real time-- 10 frames, he saw Nikolishin bump Bertuzzi's elbow (the alleged third punch) and Moore's nose stick to the ice, rolling his body over his neck.

Who knew? I got it right. I guess this puts to rest the theory that my 20/15 vision test was not fake.

So, I guess there is nothing left for me to say, but welcome back Todd-- but watch your back.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

The Philosophy of Sam: Part III

Always remember: You're unique...
Just like everyone else.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Curses... Foiled Again

It just keeps getting better, doesn't it?

So I was looking forward to going to this wedding, end of the month. The sister of one of my closest friends growing up is getting married, and it would be the first chance I get to catch up with them in the 10 years since I moved to Nebraska-- they have since moved to Arizona, and Marie, who is getting married, has been in Tennessee with her fiancee for several years.

There was just one problem... okay, a couple problems. The end of it is, my parents decided to go to the wedding, but did not put me in for the RSVP. I'm not totally bitter about it. I was looking forward to catching up with Rob, Annie, and Marie, not to mention their father Dave-- who was my first boss, and my baseball coach. But the timing of it just isn't right-- it is the weekend following the first week of classes for the semester-- and for the first time in like 5 semesters, I have a Friday class. Doesn't make for good travelling time. But something more is hanging over me.

It's the return of the curse.

Nashville, Tennessee is not too far from southern Indiana. Southern Indiana happens to be where a very lovely young lady happens to live-- my best friend (and that is not a term I throw around). Now, my relationship with this friend has been subject to the curse before.

I met her (again, I use the terms on anonymity, as I don't know if she really wishes to be a part of this blog) during the summer of 2001-- my second year of junior hockey. It was a chance meeting online-- I was trying to contact her dad, who participates in a fantasy baseball league with me. She just happened to be online, on her dad's account-- and we just hit it off right away. But that would always hang over our heads. We were both leary of meeting online, so she (more than me... but still understandable) was not wanting to set up sometime to meet, in a random place. So we made a pact. If we were ever within 4 hours of each other, we could meet.

What is the significance of my second year of juniors? Well, that was the year that I signed to play in Cincinnati-- just a couple hours from her hometown of Tell City, Indiana.

The story goes, that I went through a regional camp in Indianapolis, for the team in Cincinnati, and was invited to training camp with them. Except, that I had already committed to training camp with Syracuse (a grave mistake), but Cincinnati told me, if you don't play in Syracuse, report to Cincinnati for the start of the season. I did-- but they were saddled with two goaltenders already, and wanted to see how they'd pan out. So after two and a half weeks, they loaned me to one of my many former teams in Winnipeg. The day I left Cincinnati-- September 11, 2001-- the day that changed the world, and certainly changed mine.

I was supposed to be in Cincinnati all season. There was no rush for us to meet-- though we had talked about it. It was just a matter of time before we would meet, right?

Wrong.

With the changing situation in the states, the exhibition games I was slated to be back in Cincinnati for--my audition, if you will-- (actually in Windsor, Ontario) were cancelled. An unhappy coach, who didn't want to send me out on loan, resigned, and I was left to play out my junior career in Winnipeg-- where I did meet my ex-fiancee, but still... a missed opportunity.

Yes, I was crushed to be in Winnipeg. But during my time up there, we became closer. I was struggling, I was unhappy, and my future was very much in doubt. Through it all, there she was-- keeping my spirits up, reminding me how I got there.

From there, we moved forward... while we still talked almost everyday online, we eventually moved up to phone calls. She was there through some of my roughest moments-- including my decision to end my tour of duty in juniors, come back home, and return to school (which was the plan all along-- I just bumped up the schedule a couple months).

But ever since, we've been on the phone talking, laughing, crying, drunk dialing (I seem to be her favourite target for that), through happiness, through breakups. She is a person, who no matter how bad I feel, just talking to her makes me feel better. She brings out the best in me-- the sides of me that I often don't let shine. And she's done all that without seeing time with me. And the roles have even switched from time to time. I was so happy for her when she got to study abroad in Greece, but we never expected her dad to fall ill with cancer. Watching her suffer through that (and the fact she wasn't told til she came home) broke my heart. And when she met Michael, watching her emotions turn from extacy to pain and back.

It's not often I don't show my jealous side, but I was legitimately happy for her finding someone, even if it meant I would have to take a back seat. But she knows, the words 'give up' mean nothing to me.

But always present, is the curse. Since our 4-hour agreement, every opportunity I have had to be in that position has been thwarted. The only time I was close enough, she was in Greece. I had planned to be in South Bend earlier this year-- had to stay behind for a hockey tournament. Could have been in southern Illinois-- where my dad grew up-- I ended up on the north side of Chicago for my grandmother's birthday (can you see the irony there?-- my grandmother, and aunt who constantly ask about my love life... and they're interfering with it). Somebody up there doesn't like me.

As you can tell, I'm anxious to meet her in person. I owe her a debt of gratitude. And I am still convinced that some day we will meet. Not that I'm just waiting around for her-- we have both dated since-- just that there are some people worth waiting for.

So you can tell how excited I was to be only 2-1/2 hours away from her. But the more I think about it, them more I realize this trip just wouldn't work out. It's the first week of classes for me-- which means it's probably the first week of classes for her-- which means she'll be in Bloomington, not Tell City. That, and if I'm in Tennessee shouldn't I be at the wedding?

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Good Friends or Not?

To all you women who tell me I'm too good of a friend to date... go to hell.

OK, don't go to hell, but we do have a difference of opinions.

I would rather date a good friend, than to have a relationship based on sex. Call me crazy, but it just makes sense to me. How can there be a future with someone I don't get along with? If I can't stand to be around you, then I'm certainly not going to spend the rest of my life with you, and that means we are just wasting time. And I am too good of a friend to lead you on like that.

And while you think you are being nice to me, I can see through your lie. There is obviously something you don't like about me. Think about it-- I'm being myself, a gentleman and a friend. This is who I am, and you don't think I'm good enough for you.

Is it my looks? Wow, now you're really scoring points with me. I know I'm not the best-looking guy in the world. People don't tell me I look like Brad Pitt-- more times than not they tell me I look like Brad Sherwood. But if you're are going to attribute it to looks, then you are too shallow for me. Have fun with your future marriages and divorces when you can't stand your "hot" husbands.

Do you not like what I do with my spare time? I'm sorry I don't like to go out every night to get drunk, or get laid-- that's not me. I'd much rather socialize, be somewhere we can talk, get to know each other, and discuss the things that bother us. Maybe something that is bothering you, I know something about. Maybe the something changes your view on what happened to you. Maybe I just need someone to listen to me while I get something off my chest. Can you be that person? Are you willing to be that person? Drinking it away, or trying to forget about it won't improve the situation. I'm sorry, I'm not a dance club-type. I don't see the need to go somewhere I don't feel I fit in. I might go there to be with you, but you will have to understand that I'm not comfortable there. I'd much rather curl up with you and watch a movie, or go somewhere to talk with friends.

Tell me what it is. I can handle that you don't like me. But the fact that you can't tell me the truth makes me question our friendship. I know you're lying to me. And if you're lying to me, then you are no friend of mine. I'm better off without you. So before you tell me I'm too good of a friend to date, think about it. Are you being a friend to me?