Sharpshooting (890 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.9 on 19 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (View user info) at 2006-04-14 14:27:00 EDT
The letters came in like all the others, but inside, the edges of newspaper-clipping letters curled like rotting leaves. You would have expected the smell of decay, roadkill by the side of the street, instead of the paper and Elmer's glue. When I opened the letter, a capital E fell out and floated to the floor under the table. Only Todd Sloan's name was whole, cut from some newspaper's sports page, and the rest was painstakingly cobbled together from headlines. There were very few colored letters, and those jumped out at you off of the page, adding more emphasis than the muted grey-on-dust colored newsprint. It wasn't the first threat, it wouldn't be the last. Every guy you traded hits with was someone's favorite player, and whether that someone was a ten year old kid with skinned knees or a forty year old with a rifle and a loose grip on reality was beyond the decisions you or said favorite player could make. It's a weird feeling, being the cause of a fight in a bar you'd never visited between two people you'd never met. Gordie got it more than I did, what with that jackass Richard always yapping, always talking big. The fights over who was the best of those two - goddamn, for two people making a living, you couldn't BELIEVE the beer that got spilt and the voices that got raised over them.
It was Gordie, really, that I worried about. He'd always been quiet, even if he was a bruiser. That tough play didn't come out of an aggressive nature, it came out of the game. It's a physical game, and you have to fight out there. If you don't take the shot or push hard, you'll be the one getting hit. Hell, look at what happened to him just stopping up in Toronto. A little too fast for Eddie Shack to get that stick out of the way, and we thought he wouldn't ever play agin for a while there. So he played the body, and just like anything else on skates, he kicked ass at it. But no one really gave him this kind of shit, not the fans. He was too sweet, too shy, too damn nice to generate this kind of crap, but here we are, with dual promises that we'll be shot and bleed out on the ice. I've already bled out - I lost count a 400 stitches, and I'm sure there will be more before they kick me out of the Olympia, but Gordie skates along loving the game and loving the chance, and I know that someone pointing a gun at him from the shadows is a horrifying thought. He'll never admit it, but it isn't his speed. Tying on the skates, Sid and I talked about nothing, and Gordie went along his methodical way, one lace over the other, wrap twice, tie double, run fingers along the blade.
We skated out in front of a packed house, as usual. Toronto will never stop loving hockey. I think, though, that what they really need is a busy theatre. It's always standing room only when there's the promise of a fight, and it's been brewing a long time between us all. There's so much more to it...it's not just two teams, because we're from the US of A, and they're from Canada, and it's all about who has the bigger dick here. It's worse at the Forum, but in Toronto it simmers underneath the surface and that makes it even worse...when it gets bad enough for you to see it, it's ugly and dark and dangerous. So you beat the shit out of them and you do all right, and the dark gets to where you can't see anything anymore, and you come back and it sounds like a beehive, right between when you hit it with a rock and when they pour out to get their revenge. That is Toronto, and since some ass told the press about the threats, it is roaring tonight.
There are extra cops on hand, but I look anyway, not that I know what this guy looks like. There are dark vestibules, and I decide that's where the guy would be. By now I've imagined him into having a gigantic rifle, used for taking down elephants and small aircraft. And it's funny, because I am not afraid anymore, I am pissed. I am pissed because I love these men, and if he misses me, he could shoot one of them. He cannot kill me. There is nothing he can do to my body that is worse than what I've already accomplished. But these guys, these guys who I live with and work with and kill rats with, these guys can't take it. I'm a fucking rhino.
I spend the first period giving myself whiplash. I can't really concentrate, even though I play all right. I'm trying to watch all the guys, all the Leafs, and all the dark corners, all at the same time. Which is stupid, because I am fooling myself if I think I can keep track of all of it. Fuck it. Adams pulls my shifts down and spews some piss and vinegar on me about focus, but it's not the usual caliber. Only half the words are banned from the radio, so he's working well below his normal 95% profanity level. Probably thinks I'm scared. Thing is, the less time I'm out there, the more time Gordie is, and that can't be.
In the second period it's back to normal. I'm probably playing cleaner than I have since I was hip high to my dad. I'm hitting hard, and I'm taking every advantage, but I'm not MAKING the advantages, which is the difference. You make advantages with your elbows and quick little hooks and jabs. Gordie looks nervous, but only to me and the guys. Everyone else is afraid of him. We breeze into the third period, and by the last minutes of it, we're tied and I'm back to being paranoid. I see the navy hats of the cops roiling through the crowds, talking to fans and scanning the arena. Still nothing. Not even a false alarm, which I think creeps me out more than anything. No one ducks for cover, and the buzzer sounds for the end of the period.
There's more of the back thumping and helmet whacking than usual as we head for overtime. I think everyone's just relieved to have made it this far, but I'm watching for the bastard, waiting for him to try so I can climb the fence and rearrange his face. I know exactly what I'll do, and I know exactly what I'll say. He'll be sorry he ever picked up the scissors to cut up his newspaper. "Shoulda just read up on the news, asshole!" Yeah, that's what I'll say, but only once he's bleeding. If you say anything before they bleed, you lose the intimidation. Not like it's not intimidating to have someone punching your face backwards, but if they do it silently? You start thinking about how they're doing this without any emotion, without giving a shit, and then you piss yourself thinking about what would happen if they actually cared.
It's a blur. Every minute feels like borrowed time, and I feel the ice under my feet and the pads shifting on my frame and the hits that I take and dole out. Suddenly, the puck's on my stick, Gordie hit me with it right on the tape. Went right by two blue and white dummies on it's way. I flip it, lift it, and get hit. As it butterflies up through the hole, I hit the ice under a pile of blue and red, and we've won, this goddamn game is over.
I read the paper later, and I guess it was a little ridiculous...pointing my stick at the fans. But we were all fine, and I was still invincible, and that motherfucker didn't have anything on me. Sometimes there's no where to turn but to chest-pounding, so I did, and I loved it.
Those little cut out letters didn't have any power after all.
User Reviews
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-04-14 23:08:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Imagine Pete Rose having seven thousand hits. Imagine Rickey Henderson stealing six thousand bases or Patrick Roy winning nine hundred games. Those records would be the equivalent of what Gretzky did with his career points record. Mark Messier is in second place and he's 1,000 points behind. Even if you took away all of Wayne's goals, he'd still have more points than anybody else.
You can't reasonably say that somebody who scores that many points is a cherry picker. Cherry picking might get you a goal here and there, but the general skill level in the NHL is such that you're probably not going to accomplish very much if all you do is wait on the red line for a pass.
The idea that modern stats don't translate is worth considering, but when you consider how long Howe was in the league for, you can't say he didn't have time, he holds the record for most career games played. Also, Gretzky played most of his career in the 90s, when everybody and their cousin played the trap, A good goalie was all you needed to win the cup, and 3-2 was a high scoring game.
As far as being a complainer, I've seen Gretz take his fair share of checks. When he did speak up, it was usually about obstruction - lesser talented players hooking and holding him because that was the only way to keep him from scoring. I do agree with you, I don't like the drama he puts on, especially these days, it's gotten alot worse since he stopped playing and started coaching...but the drama doesn't take away from the fact that he was the greatest player ever to put on skates.
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2006-04-14 21:52:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked this a lot.
I love hockey posts.
I wish I was making it to your joint for the sushi fest
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2006-04-14 21:17:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Gretzky definitely had skill, and he definitely saw the ice well, but he's a whiner and no matter what you say, he IS a cherry picker. No, not all of his goals are cherries, but a lot of his play is in that style, which sucks. The reason I say Howe was the greatest player to hit the ice was that he WAS the total package - scoring, creativity, vision, toughness, fighting, smarts, backup...he did it all. Greztky, yeah, he scored a lot. He also never saw a hit he could sack up and take like a man, and fuck that, I say. To be honest, a lot of what turns me off about him is the whining - seriously, stop with the "oh the league has gotten so rough WAAAAAAAH"....it's HOCKEY, motherfucker. This ain't shuffleboard.
I don't really like translating points totals for ANYONE from old time hockey to modern hockey, simply because the entire game was so different. Scoring totals were lower, numbers of games per season fluctuated, etc., etc., etc. I'm not copping out, and I'm also not saying Gretzky didn't score a hell of a lot of goals, but it really just does not translate.
One thing worth noting is that his numbers did stay more or less consistent throughout his career. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gordie_Howe) I think that his numbers would have been even higher if he had been playing in today's NHL, if only because of his speed, but with the addition of his stickhandling, I am sure. Gretzky HAD time in the modern NHL with the full 80 game calendar, and posted the numbers that stand on his record. And just to back up my earlier comment about well-roundedness, you will note that as he got older, his assists went up, where he compensated for a lack of power with stickhandling. I don't have a reference for that, just tapes I watched waaaaay too much.
Plus he played on a team with his SONS. And played until he was FORTY ONE.
I must say, I love having someone to bicker about these guys with. Bravo my friend, bravo.
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-04-14 18:57:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
By the way, who's going to win the cup this year?
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-04-14 18:38:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The only reason people thought he was a cherry picker was because he saw the ice better than anybody could ever understand. He'd score goals and leave people asking "how did he know?" And how did a "cherry picker" end up with more assists than anybody else in history has points?
Lemieux was the same way. The greatest goal I ever saw him involved in was one where he didn't even touch the puck - he faked a shot on a pass from Team Canada defenceman Chris Pronger. Everybody bit on the fake. Mike Richter, the American defencemen, the referees, the camera guy...everybody bit except Paul Kariya, who popped it into an empty American net to clich the Olympic gold.
That's what hockey is supposed to be about, not gooning your way into the crease and stuffing in a garbage goal or two every night. I'm not saying Howe wasn't good, I'm saying there's a reason they called him "Mister Elbows."
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2006-04-14 18:29:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm not even a hockey fan, and I liked this a lot.
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2006-04-14 18:12:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Oh come on. Gretzky was a cherry picking, pussy-ass, WHINY little bitch.
Put him in the Original Six and he's crying like a baby inside of a shift. Hell, put him in with the Big Bad Bruins - as my boyfriend points out - and he's taking it up the ass before you can blink.
Blah blah blah records, see "cherry-picker" for further information.
Come on, Genk, you're better than this!
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-04-14 17:54:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
When I was a kid, I wanted to do something rebellious. I thought about running away, or doing drugs, or having sex.
But then I figured those things weren't rebellious enough so I bought a Red Wings jersey and told my parents I hated the Toronto Maple Leafs.
It's the worst thing I've ever done.
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-04-14 17:25:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
That sounds like an awesome set of pictures, although the greatest hockey player who ever lived is actually Wayne Gretzky. Gordie Howe is #4, behind Gretzky, Lemieux, and Bobby Orr.
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2006-04-14 16:57:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Thanks, you crazy Canuck.
Ted Lindsay, a third of the Detroit Red Wings' Production Line (along with Sid Abel and the greatest hockey player who ever lived, Gordie Howe), received death threats along with Howe over supposedly having injured Maple Leafe Todd Sloan. This is waaay back in hockey, Original Six era. Death threats weren't that unusual for Lindsay, but these were taken seriously enough that extra cops were brought in and everything. It was always kind of a rumble in the jungle when the Wings played either Toronto or Montreal (especially Montreal) but this was insane.
So the game plays out and Lindsay won the game in overtime, and then he put his stick up like you see in the picture and skated around the ice "shooting" the fans. It was awesome, Lindsay was awesome, and my boyfriend is awesome for finding me an autographed picture of this incident to go with my two other hockey pictures on prominent display in my house - one from Santa of Howe and Orr, autographed, and one of the whole Production Line, ditto.
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-04-14 16:39:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I had to read it again; it's just like watching Hockey Night In Canada on the CBC or listening to my father tell me stories of when he was young.
Submitted by creep_firebombing (user info) at 2006-04-14 16:25:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
...the fuck?
[boner]
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-04-14 16:23:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is the greatest.
You're the greatest.
Submitted by secret_of_nimh (user info) at 2006-04-14 16:06:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Althought you -2'd my noobness, I'll +2 this because it's about hockey.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-04-14 16:02:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Where's Tie Domi when you need him?
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-04-14 15:45:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
JOSIE!
Are you reading my series?
WHY NOT YOU HEARTLESS MEAN SAM ADAMS DRINKER???
Submitted by ScottPeterson (user info) at 2006-04-14 14:46:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
The Sharks are in the playoffs.
Submitted by Professional_Peon (user info) at 2006-04-14 14:45:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Psssst!
Method is my baby's daddy.... Pass it on --> http://www.ubersite.com/m/86639
Submitted by Scott_James (user info) at 2006-04-14 14:40:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Boo!