Salvador trying to realize childhood dream

Brandon's Bryce Salvador has been tearing it up in the
2012 Stanley Cup playoffs.

Four wins are all that separate Brandon’s Bryce Salvador from realizing his childhood dream.

"It’s surreal to know that you’re playing for the Stanley Cup," said Salvador, who plays for the New Jersey Devils and will suit up on home ice for Game 1 of the Stanley Cup final against the Los Angeles Kings tomorrow (7 p.m., CBC). "It’s a great feeling and one of those things that doesn’t happen too often, so it’s nice to be where we are."

Salvador might also be the latest addition to a long list of unlikely National Hockey League playoff heroes. Not known for his offensive prowess, the 6-foot-3, 215-pound defenceman finds himself on the first page of playoff scoring leaders, registering three goals and eight assists in 18 playoff games, while logging more than 22 minutes of ice time per game. While the individual success is well deserved, it’s something the heart-and-soul player chooses to downplay.

"It’s a great feeling to score some big goals in the playoffs, but you only get to enjoy that success because the team is winning," Salvador said. "You have to remember what you bring to the team and it’s important to not get individualistic. Everyone will have individual success if the team has success."

What Salvador brings to the Devils is something that has never been measured on the scoresheet. The 36-year-old prides himself on being an honest, two-way player that brings some sandpaper to the rink each and every night.

As a rookie with the St. Louis Blues, Salvador went to the conference semifinals before losing to the eventual Stanley Cup champion Colorado Avalanche. If his 11 years in the NHL have taught him anything, it’s that opportunities like this don’t come around too often.

"You realize how fast time goes in the league," Salvador said. "You think that you are always going to go deep in the playoffs ... It’s a humbling experience to go from 2000 to 2012 and not really have a legitimate chance to win it all."

What that Avalanche team had that year — that the Blues didn’t — was a veteran goaltender in Patrick Roy, who had already won multiple championships as a member of the Montreal Canadiens. It’s also why Salvador is confident in the Devils’ chances this year with Martin Brodeur as the team’s backbone in net.

"We feel pretty confident, but the games during the regular season don’t mean anything," Salvador said about sweeping the two-game regular-season series against the Kings. "For us to have Marty (Brodeur) in net, with all that he has won, to still see that compete level and want to win. It’s one of those things that is good for the locker room and good for the team."

This year’s run to the Cup, which has included series wins over the Florida Panthers, Philadelphia Flyers and New York Rangers, is extra special for Salvador, who was forced to miss all of the 2010-11 season due to a concussion he suffered in a pre-season game.

"Making the Stanley Cup is a dream come true and it’s tough to beat," Salvador said. "It’s come full circle from where I was this time last year and it makes it feel all the more better."

The long playoff run has also given friends and family plenty of time to text, tweet and email "Good luck" to Salvador, something he said he’s grateful for. But for now, his focus remains solely on lifting the most treasured trophy in hockey.

"I probably feel the furthest away I ever have from winning (the Stanley Cup)," Salvador said. "When you’re more removed from actually winning a cup, the more of a chance you think you have to win it. And then as it gets closer and closer, it gets harder and harder ... We’ve had a great playoff run, but we’ve got one more hurdle and it’s the hardest one."

No matter which team is victorious, the Stanley Cup will be hoisted by a Brandonite. Ron Hextall, who grew up in Brandon and played his junior hockey with the Wheat Kings, is the assistant general manager and a vice-president for the Kings. The Kings also feature former Wheat Kings trainer Darren Granger, who is now the head equipment manager for L.A.

» ctweed@brandonsun.com

Don't change those filthy underwear

If you grew up on the Prairies playing a sport you’ve undoubtably seen some quirky superstitions, unfailing rituals and, in some cases, irrational routines prior to the game beginning.

I had three superstitions I followed religiously prior to a hockey game. I had to be the last player out of the dressing room, which was difficult at times, when teammates weren’t ready for warm up. I had to hit each post with my stick during the first lap of the warm up. Then, after we took the ice for the start of the game, I was the last player to touch the goalie in a specific pattern before the puck dropped.

Weird—yes.

But not even close to the level of superstition some players, coaches and teams have.

I started thinking about superstitions while watching the greatest ritual in sport during the Rugby World Cup. The nearly two month tournament made for some exciting footy but possibly the most compelling moving pictures from the event occurred prior to the start of every New Zealand game, when the All Blacks, led by Piri Weepu, would line up across from their opponents and perform the Haka, a traditional Maori war challenge.

Now if you grew up playing hockey, instead of rugby, you’ve known for a long time that goalies are some of the oddest creatures on the planet. The word shutout is a definite no-no during the course of a game, as if the mention of the word will somehow inevitable lead to a goal, cracking the goalie’s goose egg.

Patrick Roy use to talk to his posts during the course of a game. Roy said he wanted to make sure the posts were his friends in case a shot was out of his reach, then maybe his new found buddies would bail him out.

Tiger Woods owns the most famous red shirts in the professional sports world. Woods wears red on the final day of a tournament. The color red is based on Thai superstition, symbolizing aggressiveness. Woods’ mother is from Thailand. Essentially it has become his scoring shirt, no word on whether he wore the shirt during trips to Las Vegas.

Baseball might be the sport with the most superstitions. The Curse of the Bambino haunted the Boston Red Sox organization for 86 years, beginning when the Sox traded Babe Ruth in 1919 for a big bag of money. Since the trade the Yankees have won 26 world series, the Red Sox finally ended the curse in 2004.

Wade Boggs may have been the king of the superstitious. Boggs would field exactly 150 balls during fielding practice, only ate chicken on game days, took batting practice at 5:17 and did his sprints at exactly 7:17 prior to games.

Baseball’s version of the shutout in hockey is the no-hitter. During a potential no-hitter, around the sixth or seventh inning, teammates will stop speaking to the pitcher and will leave him looking like a man on an island in the dugout.

And who can forget Nomar Garciaparra. The Red Sox shortstop who would step out of the batter’s box after every pitch and go through a series of adjustments to his gloves, finishing with a couple of toe taps on the turf. The only thing comparable to Garciaparra’s unique routine might have been Sergio Garcia who would re-grip and waggle the golf club several times before finally making a swing. Both players were criticized within their respective sports from opposition who felt they were taking too long to play the game.

In basketball, Lebron James goes through his ritual of throwing talcum powder in the air before tip-off. The superstition is more dramatics than anything, while the oddest basketball ritual might have come from the greatest player of all time. Michael Jordan wore his shorts from his collegiate days at North Carolina under his Bulls shorts for his entire career, believing the shorts brought him good luck.

Some boxers abstain from sex up to three months preceding a fight. In England, national soccer team manager Fabio Capello banned wives and girlfriends from staying with players during the 2010 FIFA World Cup.

Jim Leyland might have had the funniest—albeit dirtiest—superstition of 2011, when he decided to wear the same pair of underwear until his Detroit Tigers lost. The winning streak lasted 12 games, slightly longer than the streak in Leyland’s drawers, proving athletes and coaches will do anything to win.

Asham(ed) of his actions-Arron Asham showboats after K.O.

“Classless move on my part,” said Arron Asham.

What Asham was referring to was his actions during a game last week between his Pittsburgh Penquins and the Washington Capitals.

After Capitals forward Jay Beagle got his hands up in the face of Kris Letang, Asham challenged Beagle to settle the score. The fight starts harmless enough, with Beagle throwing a couple of rights that miss Asham. The more experienced Asham isn’t looking to trade, he takes a moment to secure a good hold of Beagle’s jersey before throwing two overhand rights.

The first measures Beagle.

The second puts him to sleep.

Everything up to this point is consistent with ‘The Hockey Code.’ But what happens next is, well, “Classless.”

Asham makes an abbreviated wash signal like an umpire calling someone safe in baseball and then puts his hands together under his cheek to simulate a pillow.

In his defense, Asham seems to recognize his gestures were offside minutes after the knock out punch, tapping on the glass as a show of respect and support when Beagle is helped off the ice by the training staff.

The whole event, which would cost Beagle a tooth and some blood, got me thinking.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Asham turn the lights out on someone. During the 2005 locked out NHL season I was playing hockey in a senior league in Manitoba. The fact NHL players had no place to play meant the league was strong that year.

In most cases, NHL players found other leagues to play in, the result was it put a lot of guys, who were playing professional hockey, out of work. Many returned home to play in senior leagues. But a couple of NHL players—Asham and Marty Murray—returned home to play in the same senior league I was playing in.

Asham to the Oakville Seals and Murray to the Pierson Bruins.

For the most part Asham was disinterested.

And make no mistake, as a team we did nothing to wake him up. Don’t hit him, don’t chirp him, don’t look at him—partially out of respect, but mainly because we didn’t want to give him any motivation.

I did however, have the opportunity to see a young player take a different approach to Asham. This particular player followed Asham around for a couple of shifts giving him subtle jabs with his stick and mouth. Asham ignored him for a time, until it became too much and the next thing you know, “the flippers were off,” to quote Darren Dutyschen.

Much like the Beagle fight, this particular scrap only lasted two punches.

The first punch hit the young kid’s visor, sending it 10 feet straight up in the air.

The second connected with his chin, folding the player up like a lawn chair. A good old fashion yard sale—equipment all over the ice but the guy selling it decided to lay down and take a nap.

Asham certainly didn’t make any obscene gestures that night. He merely skated off the ice.

And I can partially understand the gestures he made toward Beagle and the Capitals. The adrenaline was pumping and Asham was looking to give his team and arena a lift. It was probably hard to contain himself after such a dominant fight—that is until he had time to reflect in the box.

Asham didn’t do the right thing by showboating.

But he did man up enough to admit that he was wrong and for that I give him credit. The incident will no doubt serve as a reminder for any other fighter to keep their composure and give their opponents the respect they deserve. That is until the Asham gestures are long forgotten and some other player makes an idiot gesture.

In a game that is played at such a high tempo with a ton of passion, mistakes will be made. It’s how you deal with those mistakes that reveal what type of person you really are. Asham made a mistake but he didn’t make a second one—he took responsibility, which is all you can ask.

Belak's death forces NHL to review policies

Another NHL player died this past week, bringing the total to three over the past four months.

Wade Belak, who played for five NHL teams during his 14-year career including stops with the Toronto Maple Leafs and Calgary Flames, was found dead in a hotel in Toronto August 31.

In mid-May, Derek Boogaard died as a result of mixing alcohol with prescription pain medicine.

In mid-August, Rick Rypien died and although the official cause of death hasn’t been released by police, it is believed Rypien took his own life.

The latest player, Belak, also took his own life and it begins to raise the question of how much pressure these athletes are under.

All three players earned a living in the NHL by being an enforcer. Often only seeing a few minutes of ice time a game as they were asked to protect the better players on the team. Georges Laraque has probably been the most outspoken enforcer, talking about how much of a toll fighting took on his physical and mental wellbeing.

Laraque said he used to get so nervous the night before a game in which he knew he would be asked to fight that he couldn’t sleep.

Boogaard’s bouts with depression were well documented after suffering his latest concussion and dealing with the symptoms that followed.

In Rypien’s case it was well know he suffered from depression and had asked the NHL for a medical leave of absence this past season to deal with his personal demons.

But in Belak’s case there weren’t indicators—at least publicly—that he was struggling both emotionally and mentally.

Belak, who was born in Saskatoon and raised in Battleford, was a loving husband who had two young daughters. He became a fan favorite in Toronto and was often interviewed after games because of his cunning wit and inability to shy away from the tough questions.

So what does it say about the state of hockey that three enforcers have died in such a short period of time?

There are going to be links drawn to the fact that each player played what is considered by many to be the most difficult job in the sporting community. The pressure is enormous and the risk is palpable each and every time they laced up the skates.

The NHL and NHLPA have long preached how each organization is serious about cracking down on concussions. The research now suggests players could suffer from the affects of concussions for the rest of their lives, affecting their mood and ability to concentrate.

I’ve often found their campaign against concussions to lack credibility and substance. I don’t understand how you can suggest you’re cracking down on concussions when you allow athletes to bare-knuckle box at any point during a 60-minute game. The two ideas don’t add up, they are a complete oxymoron.

There will be others who scoff at the recent deaths, wondering how bad these hockey players, who make millions of dollars, really have it. But depression and mental problems don’t see wealth, race, sex or age and they usually come in the shadow of silence to claim their victims.

We all recognize when someone is bleeding, limping, or has a cast on their arm. The effects of a physical injury can be measured and quantified and immediately garner empathy from all of us who see the injury. Mental health on the other hand isn’t easily quantified. There is no measurable scale or physical ailment that can signal to others that the person is experiencing problems.

Worse yet, the stigma that is associated with such problems often causes the person being affected to retreat further, choosing to reflect the pain inward, increasing it exponentially.

The recent deaths in the NHL should be a reminder that mental illness can strike anywhere and anytime.

The deaths are made more difficult in Saskatchewan. Both Boogaard and Belak were born in Saskatoon and all three players played their junior hockey in the province—Boogaard in Regina, Prince George and Medicine Hat; Belak in Saskatoon; and Rypien in Regina.

Tom Cavanagh, a journeyman hockey player who played in 18 games with the San Jose Sharks, also claimed his life just months after being released from his AHL contract.

The deaths will prompt the NHL to look at its programs dealing with issues away from the ice, but it’s also a good reminder for our society as a whole to examine what type of programs we have for people who are suffering from mental illness. There are many good programs in this country that deal with mental illness but still a lot of people fall through the cracks. In the system they are know as “borderlines,” people that suffer from a variety of mental problems but don’t necessarily stand out and therefore go untreated.

Photo courtesy of HFboards.

Here's your sign

If the Toronto Blue Jays are stealing signs, they aren’t doing a very good job of it.

A major controversy broke out last week as one team divulged to ESPN Magazine that the Toronto Blue Jays were stealing signs during home games at Rogers Centre.

That teams were stealing signs is nothing new. Since the inception of baseball, players have tried to give their team an advantage by looking in on the catcher’s signs from second base and relaying what pitch is coming or the location. Most managers—Ozzy Guillen and Terry Francona included—believe it is up to catchers to make sure signs can’t be stolen, by either changing the signs or hiding them better.

What makes the latest allegations different is the team accusing the Jays of stealing signs—rumored to be the Chicago White Sox—is suggesting Toronto was using a ‘man in white’ in the outfield to relay signs. If it did happen, it is an egregious error on behalf of the Jays, cheating on par with steroids or corked bats. But does anybody really believe it happened?

Alex Anthopoulos unequivocally denied the accusations in a press conference he called with the media.

J.P. Arencibia took to Twitter to dispel the rumors.

“I’m hitting .200. You’d think we would dominate. We just have to laugh at it,” tweeted Arencibia.

The Jays’ catcher might have summed it up best. If the Jays are/were using a ‘man in white,’ they sure haven’t used it to their advantage in the standings.

The Jays are more than single-digit games out of the division lead and wildcard in the American League.

I kind of hope someone would start stealing signs. They could relay them to Aaron Hill, Rajai Davis and the afore mentioned Arencibia, who are all hitting dangerously close to the Mendoza line.

Useless fact 101: The Mendoza Line is an expression deriving from the name of shortstop Mario Mendoza, whose lifetime batting average is taken to define the threshold of incompetent hitting. Mendoza’s career batting average over nine seasons was .215 but most often the cutoff point is said to be .200. When a position player’s batting average—Hill’s .227— is close to that level he is said to be hitting dangerously close to the Mendoza line.

Where was I?

If only I had a sign to keep me focused.

Oh right, sign stealing. Anthopolous challenged anyone to find video of the sign stealing taking place—the search for the ‘man in white’ has proved as challenging as finding a sober Charlie Sheen.

Fans used the accusations to poke a little fun, showing up to Rogers Centre in all white with signs that read, “Fastball” and “I’m stealing your signs.”

It got me thinking of all the other things in life it’d be nice to have a sign for such as:

When a girl punches you in Grade 4, it’s because she likes you and you shouldn’t punch her back.

It’s better to work smarter than harder but always have harder ready if things start going south.

Buy extra beer on long weekends because the vendor isn’t open on holiday Monday and there always seems to be a shortage of beer.

If you do something foolish in a foreign country, remember to tell everyone you are an American. If you do something kind, attribute it to your strong upbringing in Canada.

It also got me thinking I should pay very close attention in Fleming this week, as the Jets face off against the Junior Jets for the right to be crowned Southeast Men’s Fastball champions.

What will I be looking for?

A fan dressed in all white relaying signs to the batters to give either team an advantage in the series—not that it will help much. I’ve always marveled at how fastball players hit the ball since it appears the pitcher is almost standing on top of the hitter when he lets go of the ball.

The action was a tad lop-sided through the first-round, picked up tremendously in the second-round, and is sure to be the best fastball yet, in the final. Major bragging rights are on the line in Fleming and both teams are well aware they can count on hearing about this series for a long time if they come out on the wrong end of it.

Couple the two best regular season teams in the final with the fact they are both from the same community and you’ve got the recipe for fireworks. This year’s final should be one for the record books—my prediction, take the old boys in four.

Photo from Globe and Mail.

It's one thing to lose, quite another to look like an idiot in the process

Nachos—check.

Beer—check.

Friends—check.

As I sat down to watch the Riders’ game Friday night I thought I had everything I needed, that is until Hugh Charles caught a 15-yard pass for a touchdown in the fourth quarter and proceeded to do three back flips in the endzone—clearly I hadn’t thought of everything.

Needs—puke bag, vicodin and earplugs.

A puke bag for my gag reflex, which was going a hundred miles a minute.

A vicodin, for the anger I displayed, a fit of rage that involved several choice words.

And earplugs, for any children sitting within an earshot of said blow up.

Curious to know what could send a grown man into such a fit of fury?

Charles’ celebration.

Let’s make this perfectly clear, I support a good ol’ fashioned celebration, and the CFL has been the sports leader in celies (see Dave Stala). But what Charles did on Friday night crossed an unwritten sports code of ethics, while at the same time, made a pile of people sick to their stomach.

Don Cherry often preaches the virtues of the modest celebration or no celebration at all. Well I don’t entirely subscribe to his philosophy, Charles would greatly benefit from a lesson or two from Grapes.

The problem isn’t the celebration itself—three standing back flips. It looked good, he pulled it off without a hitch and he stuck the landing—it was the timing.

At the time of the trip-flips, the Riders found themselves down 38-20, with 13 minutes remaining in the game. That’s right, he didn’t score to give the Riders the lead—something they didn’t have all game—nor did he score to clinch a playoff birth, or Grey Cup or tickets to a Rider game, which are becoming increasingly easier to find.

Nope, he scored to pull his team within 18 points, on his own field, in the last quarter of a 1-6 start to the season.

BRAVO Mr. Charles, BRAVO.

You’re the man.

Now you could argue it’s good to see a team, that could be down on their luck, doing a little celebrating. After all, things have been pretty grim in Rider nation for the duration of the 2011 campaign. And if you do feel that way, also feel free to do the new dance of idiots around the league—the trip flip—while chanting “We’re tied for last. We’re tied for last.”

Anyone who has every laced up a pair of cleats, strapped on a pair of skates or tugged on a pair of batter’s gloves, knows when you score to bring your team within three scores, goals or runs of the other team in the final quarter, period or inning, you go quietly get lined up for the next play.

Why?

Because the other option is doing three back flips and making yourself, and your entire team, look like a bunch of fools—in this case 1-6 fools. While at the same time, giving the opposing team, who is—for lack of a better description—kicking your ass at the moment, a whole bunch of comedic material.

What I would have done to be on the field, wearing a Stamps jersey when Charles performed his elaborate celebration. Size, speed and an overall lack of any talent prohibited that, but man-oh-man did I like to run my mouth when the other team did something that stupid.

Here’s some of the things that you’d hear.

“That a flip for every score you’re down Charles?”

“I think Cirque du Soleil is holding auditions next week Hugh.”

And an new twist on a classic, “Does the scoreboard look any different upside down, in the air?”

The point is, there is something to be said for being humble when you’re winning, and when you’re losing, it’s a necessity. I always find it interesting to scrutinize the body language of a team when they are in the midst of adversity. What I see right now from the Riders isn’t good.

This week, Charles came out and said the team needs more vocal leaders. More guys to step up and call certain players out. Other players said they needed to let their play on the field do the talking.

I agree with the latter camp. When your 1-6, people aren’t interested in how you talk or what you talk about. They’re interested in how you play—between the whistles that is.

Photo from Calgary Herald.

Looks like the Spider's caught another fly

This past weekend the greatest fighter in mixed martial arts (MMA) history entered the octagon in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

Anderson Silva is to MMA as Wayne Gretzky is to hockey.

Anderson Silva is to MMA as Sugar Ray Robinson is to boxing.

If you’re late to the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) here’s a quick summary. Since joining the UFC (the best MMA organization in the world) Silva has rattled off an impressive 13 consecutive victories. The feat is made more impressive when you consider eight of those wins have come as title defenses and as the old adage states: it’s easy to get to the top; it’s a lot harder to stay there.

Those eight victories were against hungry opponents. Fighters like Chael Sonnen, Vitor Belfort and Dan Henderson.

Fighting is such a mental battle and in each fight Sylva faced opponents who had win streaks of their own, opponents who were fully motivated, opponents who had worked their whole lives for a shot at the belt and each time, he soundly beat them.

If you watch the UFC then you probably love it. If you don’t watch the UFC, you probably hate it.

I can always understand the argument that no sport should allow competitors to gratuitously hit one another for sport. And as long as you believe fighting should be banned from every sport I think it’s a worthy argument.

However, there is something to be said about two athletes getting in the ring and battling until only one comes out.

It is, in my opinion, the purest form of competition in the world. I’m not defending or advocating the sport, I’m merely pointing out when you put two guys in a ring and tell them only one can be victorious, that’s pretty much the definition of competition.

What I don’t like is the argument from self-proclaimed “boxing purists.” I love the sweet science. I grew up watching the rise—and fall—of Iron Mike Tyson. But something did become abundantly clear to me as I continued to support the sport.

Boxing has major problems.

First of all, why can’t I ever seem to watch the best fighters fight each other?

Secondly, why do they allow these shameless, dirty promoters, who smell like used car salesmen and never stop blowing hot air be the face of their sport?

Thirdly, why do they not understand if you don’t re-invest back into your business that eventually you find yourself out of business?

And finally, why can’t I ever seem to watch the best fighter fight each other?

In the UFC the best are constantly fighting each other. The sport is designed to promote the top competition.

In the UFC the fighters are their own promoters. Many are college and university graduates and they realize that just like everything else in life, you are in charge of your own brand.

In the UFC Dana White is constantly re-investing back into his product. He hosts free fights, something boxing refuses to do. It gives newcomers to the sport an opportunity to see what MMA is all about, while at the same time familiarizing themselves with some of the best fighters in the game.

And finally, in the UFC, guys sign three, four or five fight deals, meaning they don’t get to pick and choose who they’re fighting—unlike boxing where the art of ducking a good fighter to make an extra buck bashing in some second-rate fighter is a rite of passage.

This weekend, Anderson “The Spider” Silva will fight Yushin “Thunder” Okami; a win will effectively mean Silva will have wiped out the middleweight (185 lbs) division. Many speculate his next fight will come against Canadian George “Rush” St. Pierre (GSP), and some—especially in this country—believe GSP can beat him.

The GSP vs. Silva fight certainly has appeal but makes no sense for GSP, who has repeatedly said he will only jump to middleweight as his body evolves and no longer lets him to fight at 170 lbs.

What people sometimes forget is Silva has fought at 205 lbs and won both times, defeating Forrest Griffin, who held the belt in the division for a cup of coffee and James Irvin, who tested positive for steroids after the fight. The point is GSP would essentially be moving up two weight classes to fight Silva. That, coupled with the fact, Silva is one of the best fighters in the world isn’t a good fit for GSP, who likes to wear down his opponents in the cage.

The fight this past weekend is a chance for Silva to avenge his last loss—if you can call it that.

The last time these two fighters met was at the Rumble on the Rock tournament in Hawaii. Silva quite literally stalks Okami around the ring for the first four minutes before the Japanese fighter finally scores a takedown. From there as Okami postures up to strike, Silva hits him with a heel kick from the bottom and knocks out Okami.

The fight ends with Okami picking up a disqualification win—hardly a loss and hardly a win.

When they do battle again in Rio there will be no mistakes from Silva. I expect a second-round TKO from the champ, who will use the first round to feel Okami out, finishing with a flurry to end the opening frame before sending the Japanese fighter to the canvas for good in the second round.

Sure as Swaggerville and Riderville are going to clash in an epic battle that will help the green nation right the ship in the CFL, Anderson “The Spider” Silva will run his win streak to 13, dismantling Yushin “Thunder” Okami and cementing himself as the best UFC fighter ever.