INSIDE HOCKEY

I’m midway through my fifth or sixth cup of coffee right now, and still trying to figure out what to write. You know that lightheaded feeling you start to get when the caffeine kicks in, and you’re so wired you can’t focus on anything? Anyway, much is said about the athlete coming back in good shape and ready to play at the beginning of the season, but what about the hockey writer? Here we are, with a blank slate, 30 teams who should (in theory) have an equal shot that this will be the year, and somehow we’re supposed to pretend we know what’s going to happen? Whether we’ve spent the past few months halfheartedly covering bowling or NASCAR, or just goofing off, there’s going to be considerable rust.

This isn’t a complaint, but sometimes I think hockey writers need that time away from the rink to recoup as much as anyone. We can be an arrogant bunch sometimes, because we’re right 99% of the time, and it takes a lot of energy to convince the rest of the world of this. We are, after all, the few that get to jump behind the scenes and see that other side of the team. We go in like scavengers, with a list of information that we need to seek, and we have a limited amount of time to convince players, coaches and the lot, that they want to give this information to us. Of course, most wouldn’t trust us with a secret, because our job is to turn around and tell the rest of the world what we’ve learned.

I admit that it’s taken me a while to develop the right mindset for the job. Half the time I’m thinking, ‘gee, is it really any of my business to be asking that?’ And while I’m being honest here, there’s a part of me that still feels funny about using the quotes that I’ve gathered, that I’m actually standing there with a recorder taping a conversation in the first place. Maybe it goes back to my childhood, and how I was always the friend who listened to everyone’s problems, how even back then I didn’t judge, just let them vent, while I soaked in every last word of the conversation. The only difference, of course, was I didn’t go blabbing it to everyone else.

In the process I’ve managed to learn about many of the things you don’t want to do. First, is to always remember to actually turn on the recorder, because it really stinks when you’ve taken three or four interviews only to realize that none of them have been recorded. Second, is to make sure the recorder is actually in a position to pick up the conversation, and not hidden behind your notebook or in your pocket or something. Third, is to be prepared. Nthing is worse than talking with someone when you have no idea of who they are or what they’ve done. ‘Hey you, how’s it going?’ is not going to give you much material to work with. I realize most of this is a given, probably even taught in journalism school or something, but some of us have to figure it out the hard way. And unfortunately, I’ve had to do a lot of figuring out just to get to a point where I’m comfortable in what I’m doing.

Speaking of comfortable, I realize we all make mistakes. I also realize that people are more likely to point out your mistakes or the things that they disagree with than to offer praise or to tell you what they liked. Though I try to offer out praise to other writers, I realize I’m guilty of forgetting this sometimes as well.

Coming from an artistic background, I’ve always sought out new ways to convey my thoughts and feelings. Maybe hockey writing is a little piece of that. It’s the sports fan in me, the kid who grew up with zero athletic talent but always kind of admired those who did have it. I spend a good deal of my time now following hockey prospects, kids who are on the rise and are on the verge of beginning their careers. It’s exciting to watch; it’s sort of like watching your own kids grow up, but without the insane grocery bills or having to wake up at 4 AM because your son puked all over his rug. You watch their careers develop, and you watch them come and go. So many of them don’t make it, but the more you follow their careers, the more you appreciate the work it took for the few that do make it.

As much as I’m completely toasted and ready for a break by the time the Stanley Cup finals roll around, that first visit to the rink in the fall is electric. The speed of the game, the cool, crisp air, players crashing into the boards, these are the things that keep me coming back, because hockey is a sport unlike any other. It far outweighs any of the frustrations and it somehow puts the competitive nature of fellow scribes in a new light. We are, after all, here for the same reason. No matter who breaks the story first, no matter who gets the best quotes, we are here because we love the game. Hockey’s back, my friends.