Better than the ending to Psycho.  Better than the Habs over the Bruins in 1979, though that took overtime.

Okay, this was the BEST…ENDING…EVER……..that didn’t require overtime.

For a scant few seconds, after Tim Gleason showed why hockey is a team game, and a complete team requires all sorts of skill sets in order to succeed, it appeared as though Game Seven overtime was looming in New Jersey.

Which would have been a great thing in onto itself; think of all the wonderful moments forged out of the blast furnace called Next Goal Wins.

Pat LaFontaine deep into the night, Dale Hunter the year after that, the aformentioned Canadiens’ win for the Cup over the Bruins in 1979 (okay, it was only the semi-finals, but everyone knew that whichever team emerged victorious would roll over the Rangers).  April 29th, 1986, and Claude Lemieux scoring over the shoulder of Mike Liut in the Hartford Whalers net at 5:55 of the first overtime.  Gold.  All of them.

I’ve had the pleasure of attending one Game Seven, and it went into overtime.  Another April 29th.  The Buffalo Sabres, at home, turned the lights out on the 1996-97 edition of the Ottawa Senators, taking Game Seven 3-2 in the extra frame.  The place went nuts.

With all that in mind, when Tuomo Ruutu scored to tie things up at 3-3, overtime was pretty much a given, though when they dropped the puck at centre ice, I thought that it would be amusing if the Devils stormed down the ice and popped in their own goal.

Well, right result.  Wrong team.

When Eric Staal buried that puck behind Martin Brodeur, my love for playoff hockey was reaffirmed.  This is why you NEVER leave the arena in a bid to beat traffic.  This is why we play a full 60 minutes. Feel free to clip this article and keep it in your back pocket for those moments when your Dad tries to get you to leave a game with two minutes left to play.

From my couch, this was the most entertaining of the eight first-round series.

As for our first-round predictions here at NHL Home Ice…

DAN “The Genius” BLAKELEY - all 8 series correct
JOE THISTEL - 7 correct
SCOTT LAUGHLIN - 7 correct
PETER BERCE - 6 correct
SHAWN LAVIGNE - 6 correct
TERRY MERCURY - 6 correct
MICK KERN - 6 correct
MIKE ROSS - 6 correct
PHIL ESPOSITO - 5 correct

The other series was a funny one, as most agree that Washington outplayed the Rangers for most of the seven games, yet New York arguably was the better team in Game Seven, yet end up losing it 2-1.  A fluke goal that got the Caps on the board didn’t help the Rangers’ cause, but in the end, the team that played better for the entire series moves on.

And hey, that Sean Avery can really play the game of hockey when he wants to.

And, the NHL gets the Washington Capitals against the Pittsburgh Penguins.  We never had the chance to watch the mid-to-late 80’s Oilers against the Mario Lemieux Penguins in the playoffs.  This will be the closest thing.  Can’t wait.

- Mick Kern

Not sick-in-the-head, though many would advance that theory.  Sick as in “Man, I can’t get outta bed, it hurts so bad” sick.   One wicked case of sinus infection, which seems to happen this time every year.

Stuck at home, feeling like I blocked an Al MacInnis slapshot with my forehead, until the drugs kicked in.  Dragged myself to the basement TV room couch.  Thankfully, there were a lot of NHL games on this particular Tuesday evening.

Started with Pittsburgh in Montreal.  Talk about a game both teams wanted to win.  The Penguins trying to claw their way back into an Eastern Conference playoff spot; the Habs trying to hang onto theirs.

Don’t know what Canadiens’ head coach Guy Carbonneau said to Alex Kovalev, but the enigmatic Russian sniper played with some jump in his step.  Carey Price still makes me nervous as I watch him tend net.  His positioning is top-notch, but get the dude to move, and you’ve got a good chance of burying the puck.  Price will excel with a defensive core dedicated to clearing the puck.  Sounds simple, but not all defenceman master that basic skill.  Even so, Price appears to give up one questionable goal a game.  And he’s gotta stop doing that annoying shrug of his shoulders whenever he is scored upon.  It’s like he’s saying, “wasn’t my fault”.

Switched over to the resurgent Florida Panthers at the Toronto Maple Leafs.  Had intended to attend this game, but no such luck.  The Leafs staked themselves to a 3-1 lead, but watching it from the couch, I just knew that the Cats were gonna tie this thing up.  Toronto’s Alexei Ponikarovsky got caught for boarding with less than two minutes remaining in the game, and of course, Florida tied it up.

What cracked me up about that sequence of events was how Leafs’ uber-GM Brian Burke reacted, high up in the pressbox.  His face indicated he probably thought the penalty was horse-bleep.  Funny how that is.  It was clearly a boarding call.  It was also the only situation all night where a Leaf went to the penalty box alone.  Why can’t a team, or a kiss-ass TV/Radio play-by-play guy, or for that matter, most homer fans, admit when a penalty is a penalty?  Show some class.  Shuddup, and skate to the penalty box and feel shame for two minutes.  Or less.

And to complete the evening, ex-pat Bryan McCabe scored the overtime winner for Florida on a two-on-one slapshot.  Nice shot, but really, Vesa Toskala should have had it.  He’s a starting goaltender in the National Hockey League.  They’re supposed to get those ones, not allow them to squirt past him for the game-winning tally.

Hey, every so often one of those gets through.  Grant Fuhr was with the Maple Leafs when Trevor Linden unloaded a similar shot on him during a game at Maple Leaf Gardens during the autumn of 1991.  No doubt you could hear me scream with joy miles away, even though I was ensconced way up in the corner greys.

That goal stood up as the winner in a 2-1 victory for the Canucks.  After the game, Fuhr admitted one or two of those find their way through him every year.  He played the shot correctly, but sometimes, that little vulcanized rubber projectile has eyes of its own.

Same thing could be said for Toskula, but the trouble is, like Price, he tends to give up one bad goal a game.  A team cannot constantly win knowing they’re effectively one goal down to start.  Not that the Leafs’ brass probably minds; wasn’t this Year One of the constant rebuilding phase?

Switched games and caught the tail-end of the Capitals putting down the Devils 5-2.  Jose Theodore in net still makes me nervous.  Come to think of it, most goaltenders make me nervous.  So much so, I forgot about the sinuses for a while.  What will the Devils do when the Best Goaltender Of All-Time (C) returns?

A couple of late games that I was able to catch.  The mighty Marty Turco and his band of Merry Dallas Stars were at home and dropped the Calgary Flames 3-1.  Turco is back to playing like, well, Marty Turco, and the Stars are the force most of us expected them to be.

Which is why everyone has to keep their cool when it comes to watching this grand game of ours.  It’s a long, long season.  82 regular-season games.  All that matters is where you stand once your 82nd game is played.  Most teams will experience highs and lows during the course of the season.  Don’t allow either to convince you it’s a trend.

Having said that, Dallas moved to erase the cancer in their dressing room, and slowly, this team has rediscovered its confidence, even with key injuries.  Let the 2008-09 Dallas Stars stand as an example why a team should not automatically fire its head coach when things aren’t going as planned.  Often, the fault lines run deeper than that.

(Now watch, of course, as the Stars lose every game for the rest of the season).

Dallas were able to pull themselves out of a troubling nosedive, yet the Ottawa Senators seem keen on continuing their descent.  They get rid of the perceived malcontents, design some horrid third sweaters, the owner tells reporters to go blow themselves up, and then they fire head coach Craig Hartburg affter only 48 games.

48 games?  That’s not even as long as most people get to try out their fancy new widescreen HDTV before realizing they can’t pay for it, and return it to the store.

Whatever.  It looks good on the Senators that they lost tonight 1-0 to the rebuilding Los Angeles Kings.

Are we to expect a 11 am press conference on Wednesday morning announcing the firing of head coach Cory Clouston?  That’s the way things are tracking in Ottawa.

Flipped the channel.  Saw video of Adam Graves getting his number 9 retired by the New York Rangers.  With all due respect to Larry Brooks of the New York Post, who I enjoy reading, but is the whole world going crazy???

Okay, I get it.  Graves was a great guy off-the-ice, did great things for his community and was a key cog in the 1994 Stanley Cup winning Rangers team.  But c’mon.  This isn’t Rod Gilbert, or Jean Ratelle, or Ed Giacomin, or Brad Park, or Brian Leetch, or Mark Messier, or even Andy Bathgate, or Harry Howell, or Bill Gadsby, Vic Hadfield or the Cooks we’re talking about.

This is Adam Graves.

Messier commented that the night was not about honouring Graves’s stats.  Fair enough.  Raw numbers don’t always tell the whole tale.  But retiring his uniform number?   It should be first-and-foremost about what happens on the ice that determines sweater retirements, and Hall-of-Fame inductions, etc.

The standards have been lowered.  Ranger fans, take your best shot.  And don’t try and feed me the line, “ya had to be in New York to truly appreciate Graves”.

What about Bathgate, and Bernie Nicholls, and Rick Middleton, if the Rangers hadn’t been so stupid, stupid, stupid and traded away Nifty.  These guys also served as Number Nine.

Wow, win one Cup, one stinkin’ Cup after fifty-four years of nothing, and I guess you truly do walk together forever.

Then again, hey, it’s your team.  Do what you want.  The way things are going, each and every member of that ‘94 team will eventually have their number raised.  I can hardly wait for Jay Wells night. 

And I thought the 1967 Maple Leafs were honoured to death.

Stop the presses!  As I type, the Vancouver Canucks actually win a game, 4-3, at home against the Hurricanes.  Alex Burrows pots the shorthanded winner with under two minutes to play.  Mats Sundin stays out of the penalty box and contributes a goal and an assist.

Stay tuned.

Time to take some more drugs.  All is well in the NHL.  Goodnight.

- Mick Kern

First the ham-fisted over-reactions over comments made by bad boy Sean Avery, now possible legal action over comments made by bad coach Barry Melrose.

What the heck is going on?

While the rest of the sporting establishment in North America are finding ways to cope with the worsening financial situation, it appears that the only wolves at the door of the National Hockey League are those with loose lips.

Apparently the legal eagles of the Tampa Bay Lightning are huddling together with their briefcases, attempting to determine whether or not Melrose broke his confidentiality agreement with the Lightning, thanks to comments the ex-coach made recently on the Fan 590 all-sports radio station in Toronto.

It appears the comment his ex-employers have the biggest beef with is Melrose’s contention that young phenom Steven Stamkos is Not-Yet-Ready-for-Primetime.

Apparently, such a statement from their ex-employee, which was picked up by the likes of TSN, and here at NHL Home Ice, could be construed to be potentially damaging to the carefully constructed marketing plans of the Tampa Bay Lightning.

Fellas, if one comment by a disgruntled ex-employee is enough to torpedo the best laid plans of mice and men in Tampa, it’s time to get the lawyers and their briefcases to huddle together and maybe rethink your entire approach to marketing.

This is quickly becoming a league where one cannot talk, whether the talk be stupid (Avery), inquisitive (Jim Kelley on rumours about the Sabres being for sale), probing (Al Strachan about the Lightning), or critical (Melrose).

I understand the concept behind a confidentiality agreement, having signed one back in August of 2002.  About four dozen souls found out one Black Tuesday that we were all out of a broadcasting job, as the station we toiled for felt it cheaper to play oldies instead of investing in its all-sports property.  Besides, rumour has it they needed liquidity in order to complete the purchase of television stations in British Columbia. 

I wasn’t privy to such information; that’s what some trade journals speculated.  What I do know is my suddenly former employer gave me thousands of dollars to leave quietly…minus taxes and the usual deductions.  I signed an agreement not to talk about, well, not to talk about what I didn’t even know anything about to begin with, which is why the programming change really came about. 

Six years later, that company has been bought out by a much larger media company here in Canada, so I don’t know if my confidentiality agreement still stands, nor whether it would stand up in court.  Suffice to say, I’ve never been a threat to my former company, and even if I had an axe to grind, I was like Schultz from “Hogan’s Heroes”; I knew nothing.

But Barry Melrose does know something, even though he’s been picked apart by much of the electronic helmet hair hockey media for being a coach badly out-of-touch with today’s game.  Funny, I recall back when he was hired, most of those media hacks were lauding the hiring, trumping up the marketing possibilities of the Lightning hiring the face of ESPN hockey.  When legitimate questions arose about the large gap between coaching assignments for Melrose, many in the electronic media rose to Melrose’s defence, trotting out what would become the party line…hey, he’s followed the game very closely as an analyst during that time, no sweat.

The rest of us thought, what the heck are Tampa thinking?  Then again, the Terrible Two in charge of the Lightning seemed to revel in off-beat moves, and this one fit the bill perfectly.

A scant half-year later, co-owner Len Barrie now maintains that Melrose lost the team while they were in Europe to start the season.  If that’s so, then why did it take the Bolts’ braintrust so long to file a missing team report?  Why wait two months?

The more things unravel in the Sunshine State, the more it appears the Al Strachan’s of the world had a pretty good source about the chaos by the Bay, despite the rantings from Team Tampa and the mouthbreathers who inhabit the Internet chatrooms.

Back to Melrose, back in his comfy seat on television.  As one person commented on a hockey blog (a rare pithy comment from these often lowbrow forums), what did anyone expect from Melrose; he’s back to being a hockey analyst, and he’s expressing an opinion about Stamkos, which is worth discussing.

Since I’m not under the employ of the Tampa Bay Lightning, and don’t expect to be anytime soon, allow me to explore that marketing-busting contention.

Would Steven Stamkos be better served being back in junior hockey, or in the American Hockey League?  I don’t honestly know.  Sometimes it’s better to be exposed to the culture of the NHL, in order to get your feet wet like Vincent Lecavalier or Joe Thornton did, before they became the stars everyone expected them to be.

No doubt the same thing will eventually happen with Stamkos.  He is, after all, still just a kid.  He’s shown flashes of what made him such a coveted draft pick, and Lightning fans can only hope he doesn’t get adversely affected by performing in the Ice Capades circus known as the Lightning.

Some players can handle the NHL early, some can’t.  More to the point, some young phenoms can handle the expectations, and attention, and pressure at an early age, while others are smothered by it, and are never afforded a proper opportunity to develop their formidable skills.

It makes sense that the dead-last Lighting would centre much of their marketing around Stamkos.  After all, the halcyon days of 2004 are as dead and buried as the days of sub-prime mortgages.  Stamkos represents the future, a future that better come sooner-than-later in Tampa.

Which would explain the early season controversy over the amount of ice time The Future was getting under Melrose’s tutelage.  Coaches understand they are on short leashes, and are often judged by their win-loss record.  Developing players is a luxury for general managers.  Melrose made a coach’s decision; this young man was not ready to shoulder the load just yet.

This wasn’t the first time a coach made such a decision, nor is this the first time upper management disagreed.  And this is the part that strikes me as funny regarding possible infringement of the confidentiality agreement; I do not believe Melrose is dumping on Stamkos by expressing this opinion.  If anything, he may have been one of the few people willing to speak up and express concerns about rushing the young player.

What is really amusing is the quick-to-judgement hockey establishment now criticizing Melrose, accusing him of throwing Stamkos under the bus.

Maybe Sean Avery was right about one thing - maybe most hockey players are simple.  And since most hockey executives played the game in the NHL, or at least in the minors, well, you can do the math.  Someone has to be able to.

Hindsight will show whether Stamkos was ready for the NHL in 2008.  Melrose no more knows the future than Len Barrie does, but what Melrose does know better than Barrie is hockey.

They both played in the National Hockey League, though you can probably get a dozen of their hockey cards for a dime, if you can even find them.  Melrose rose to prominence as head coach of the Gretzky-led L.A. Kings’ team of the early 90’s, including the squad that lost in five games in the 1993 Stanley Cup Final to the Montreal Canadiens.

Barrie made his fortune outside of hockey while Melrose made his name inside the game.  They appeared to be a natural match this past summer; a couple of mavericks.  Now, that partnership is in tatters, gone the way of the Jacques Martin-Mike Keenan friendship.

The Lightning very well may have the legal right to seek damages against Barry Melrose, but such action only adds to the circus surrounding the team.  Better to let Melrose pop off; he’s not the first recent ex-Lightning employee to take his shots at the team.  Time for the Lightning to move on. 

Somehow, the National Hockey League clubs continue to provide top-notch, colourful hockey, despite the simplistic, black-and-white world much of its executives inhabit.

- Mick Kern

Okay, I tried to avoid clogging up the internet with yet another blog about Sean Avery and Sloppygate.  Yet after watching Kelly Hrudey pontificating during the first intermission of CBC’s Thursday night broadcast of the Rangers at Montreal, I have finally given in.

During the intermission, Hrudey commented on a clip from the pre-game ceremonies showing various esteemed Rangers and Canadiens alumni all gathered at centre ice for the ceremonial faceoff.  Hrudey does his best Don Cherry impersonation as he talks with emotion about the legends gathered in one spot, informing the audience (and, borrowing from Cherry’s bag-of-tired tricks, appeals directly to kids) that these guys are what the game is all about.

Then, without missing a beat, Hrudey drops the other skate by cutting immediately to Sean Avery, holding the fallen Star up as an example of what the game is not about; a player who has no respect for the game, and probably no respect for himself.  And to underscore that point, the tall foreheads at Hockey Night in Canada roll the offensive Avery clip yet again, just in case a handful of their audience had been sequestered in jury duty over the past two days, and had been unable to hear with their own ears the scandalous words that he uttered.  Apparently those words were so damaging to hockey, that the NHL saw fit to suspend Avery, and the Stars saw fit to distance themselves from Avery, yet it remains acceptable for those damaging words to be repeated over and over and over again by the media.  

Thanks Kelly.  Just in case my kid didn’t hear Mr. Avery’s famous utterance the first forty-two times, you’ve made sure he’s been exposed to his wisdom via the CBC Guardians of Hockey, instead of learning such lessons from some older kid during recess in the schoolyard, which is probably how most of us cobbled together our fractured knowledge of the birds and the bees.

Am I the only one who has had enough of the pious stance taken by the hockey establishment regarding Avery’s ill-advised potty mouth?  His comments were a number of things; juvenile, sexist, insensitive, and totally non-related to hockey.  At the same time, they were the words of a man-child who fancies himself above the very game he makes a very good living from, the very game that provides him with the attention he craves as the maverick, the anti-hero.

And like moths to the flame, we, the hockey media, can’t help ourselves. 

The initial comments are Avery’s fault, and his alone.  No one forced a microphone into his face and demanded a comment about his past relationships.  Avery decided to show his disdane for the media and sought out the microphone horde.  His attempt at humour was below low brow, and now he’s paying the price.

But what price is just?  Avery is a jerk.  He’s proven that during his relatively short NHL career.  At the same time, disregarding his on-ice merits, Avery is also a welcome slash of colour in a monochromatic hockey world.  And he’s right about one thing; the bad guys are as important as the good guys, for without that dynamic, how does the white hat prove his worth?  The hero defines himself, finds his purpose, and becomes an extension of our hopes and dreams, when he faces, and slays, the dragon.

Avery is that dragon.  He willingly plays the role.  And that role has provided him with a stage larger than the provincial world of professional hockey.

Not many players have been able to transcend hockey.  Wayne Gretzky did it the best.  Bobby Orr wasn’t that far behind.  Name me one other player who truly is known throughout the non-sporting world?  The likes of Gordie Howe and Maurice Richard came close, but only Gretzky and Orr were, if only momentarily, bigger than the game.

Avery does not inhabit that same plateau, and thankfully never will.  But he is better known today outside of hockey circles, outside of sporting circles, than Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin.  Argue if you want, but that’s only because you can’t see past your blinding love of hockey.  Somewhere, at sometime, Avery understood that he could stand head-and-shoulders over the robots who play this game if he was willing to play the villain’s role.

Now is it actually a role, or is this the real Sean Avery?  That’s been the million dollar question for a number of years, and Avery has been smart enough not to allow too many people a glimpse behind the curtain.  Teams such as the Dallas Stars only fed the fire, signing Avery for relatively big bucks during the off-season, with full knowledge of the baggage he was carrying.

And that in itself is pathetic, the Stars washing their hands of Avery.  Not that I wouldn’t have also looked for a reason to dump him.  Something is rotten in the state of Texas, some of it is the goaltending of Marty Turco, but that can’t be the whole story.  Word has spread that the players on the Stars had had enough of Avery’s antics well before he opened his mouth in Calgary.  What Avery did was give the reeling Stars the perfect opportunity to dump him.  They don’t even have to admit they made a mistake signing him in the first place.  Avery gave them the perfect cover.  The only thing is, now Dallas has no excuses left for their pathetic play.

I understand why the NHL would suspend him for the game against the Flames.  I also understand why they would want to levy further punishment against Avery.  His statement is not something the league will be including on its feel good, end-of-season marketing DVD.

I also understand why the hockey establishment have been climbing over each other in an attempt to stone Avery to death.

He broke some obscure section of The Code.  He dared to go public with the moronic, sexist vernacular that is a part of most, if not all, professional locker rooms, and often on the ice during play.   This is a fact-of-life.   Life in the trenches, if you will.  A large number of your favourite hockey players talk something akin to this.  There’s a good chance, if you’re a male, you’ve done it yourself.  I know I have.  And when I have, it’s always been in a group dynamic, the mob mentality taking over, when the individual subverts their better judgement into the greater whole.  It’s normal human behaviour, and often it’s rated X (and I’ve been assured women are quite capable of the same talk, albeit with different reference points).

What Avery did was rip off the very thin veneer of civility that cloaks the jock culture at the heart of all professional sport.  Avery allowed us to peek under the curtain, and we saw a glimpse of what any mature person already knows.  Hockey players are as profane (if not more so), and prone to the same vices, and carnal motivations as the rest of us.  They just have more cash and get their own bubblegum card.

This truth, of course, runs counter to the constantly pumped proproganda that hockey players are all great guys, the very Salt of the Earth.

But hockey players are not superheroes, they’re young men.  They’re in very good shape, they’re rich, and that’s enough to put them at the front-of-the-line in the endless race for alpha dog mating status.  There’s a reason why the likes of Avery hang out with Supermodels.  I don’t care how smart you might be, or what contributions you’ve made to the human race…some jock with a ton of money trumps you and me every time.

These guys are rock stars.  And, as such, some of them behave like rock stars.  Which means, lock up your daughters.  Not that there’s anything necessarily wrong with any of this.  Humans are sexual beings, despite what any religion might tell you.  The hockey star you worshipped as a kid probably had a girl in every port.  Heck, maybe you would have worshipped them more if you had known that.

None of this is wrong between consenting adults, nor is it anyone’s business, anymore than your personal life is anyone’s concern.   Why it’s worth noting here is that, even with our modest advances as a society, women still play a marginal role in the world of men’s hockey.

Just reference the recent David Frost trial, where the purported sexual shenanigans between players and local girls are much more common than anyone will admit.  The hockey establishment will rise up to deny it, but that’s part of the public relations game. 

Young women are often a trophy for young players to collect.  Puck bunnies very much exist.  So when a Sean Avery actually verbalizes that part of the long-ingrained culture of hockey, the hockey establishment goes nuts.

His childish words are condemned from all corners.  It’s the worst scandal to hit the NHL since, well, since the league and its media lapdogs finally were forced to admit that Alan Eagleson was a criminal.  From hockey analysts to ex-coaches to current players, the condemnations for Avery’s comments reeks of hypocrisy.  And more importantly, the priorities are all out-of-wack.

Speaking on TSN’s Off The Record on Wednesday evening, former NHL sniper Rick Vaive called for a 20-game suspension for Avery.  What?   A guy can plaster a fellow player against the boards, risking the guy’s career, and one day a guy’s life, and the guilty party might receive 3 games.  MIGHT receive 3 games. Probably only 1 in the playoffs.  But some moron miscalculates his own worth and opens his mouth, and you want to suspend him for 20 games?

No wonder the NHL remains a joke in many quarters in the U.S.   Despite some headway, the league (meaning the entire league…the teams, management, the players, most of the established media) still refuses to honestly address the on-going self-inflicted wounds the game suffers thanks to garbage such as head shots and hits-from-behind.

Instead, many of the hockey mob want to string up Avery, as though they finally caught the medieval witch that was causing all their chickens to die.

It was poppycock back in the Middle Ages, and it’s poppycock now.

What is most priceless are the commentators that are tut-tutting from their pulpits, stating that Avery’s comments are degrading to women.  True, they are, but so much of the macho, male culture of hockey feeds into that same river.  As Captain Willard noted in Apocalypse Now, when he was sent up river to take out Colonel Kurtz, “…charging a man with murder in this place was like handing out speeding tickets at the Indy 500″.

To the hockey establishment, Avery’s real sin was in speaking the unspeakable.

Knock yourself out, boys, trying to see who can sound the most pious in their condemnation of Avery.  Your spot in hockey heaven is reserved.

- Mick Kern