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.

Brooks Laich remains a Washington Capital

by Charles Tweed

Wawota’s Brooks Laich is going to be a Capital for a long time. The 28-year-old centreman inked a six-year deal worth $27 million to remain in Washington.

“I was really excited initially and that was followed closely with a sigh of relief,” said Laich. “I’ve never been through unrestricted free agency and I didn’t want to leave Washington. The closer it got to the draft and to July 1, I was starting to get worried that maybe I wasn’t going to be returning to Washington.”

The business of hockey often means contract talks can get quite nasty as organizations point out player’s weaknesses in an attempt to devalue their monetary worth to the club.

“I am really fortunate to have an agent (Rollie Melanson) that I have been with since I was 17-years-old and he’s a guy that I trust and a guy that I believe in,” explained Laich. “That makes it very easy because I know he is working as hard as he can for me and going to get the best deal possibly.”

But what does a small town boy from southeastern Saskatchewan do when he runs into $27 million.

“I’m already very fortunate and live a very good life as it is and this money isn’t going to change anything,” said Laich. “I haven’t bought anything or made any plans for it. Playing hockey I believe I earn what I get and I don’t want to make a dollar more than I am worth but I also don’t want to make a dollar less…but I don’t know what you do (with the money)—maybe buy some farmland around Wawota.”

Laich said he typically takes three weeks off after the season is over and then begins the “work” of preparing for the upcoming season.

“I actually think the summers are harder than the season. During the season you get to play hockey and practice and that’s the enjoyable part. What you do in the summer is the underbelly and stuff that people don’t usually see. It’s the preparation and work in the gym, not only to be in shape but to be durable so you don’t get hurt and miss games. When the season does come around, it’s a reward,” he said.

He spends about four hours a day, six days a week in the gym preparing for training camp and wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m up at 5:30 in the morning excited to get to the gym. I don’t roll in there late. I can’t wait to get to bed at night so I can get up in the morning and start my workout because this is what I love to do,” he said. “I bought my own weight set when I was 13 years old to start training because I knew I wanted to be a hockey player.”

That blue-collared approach resonates across Saskatchewan and organizations have picked up on it.

“Around the NHL, Saskatchewan guys have a very solid reputation as people you want on the team because at the end of the day they are going to compete and they are somebody you are going to want to go to battle with,” said Laich. “You look at how we grow up, you drive 70 miles from Wawota to Esterhazy for a practice three times a week then 70 miles home in minus-30 degree weather. You are hardened at a younger age because of the elements.”

But the biggest influence in his career has always been family.

“I learned a lot from mom and dad. Dad never missed work and mom was the most consistent person in the world whether it was with the kids or at work and all those attributes I’ve picked up from my parents,” explained Laich. “Anytime you ever needed something 100 per cent of the time they were there.”

There were a lot of incentives for Laich to resign in Washington—a two-time Hart MVP trophy winner in Alexander Ovechkin, a premiere defenseman in Mike Green and a team that has finished first in its division four consecutive years—but the biggest reason for remaining a Cap might have been the coaching staff. Bruce Boudreau has shown unwavering faith in Laich’s abilities and it was something that wasn’t lost on the Wawota product.

“I spoke to Bruce multiple times about the direction, and the positives and negatives of our team. He made a very good point, he said ‘where are you going to go in the NHL where life is going to be any better for you than in Washington? You play 20 minutes a night, you play powerplay and penalty kill, you’re on (the ice) in the first minute and the last minute of a game, you’re a guy that is trusted and relied upon. What more in hockey are you looking for?’” said Laich. “That kind of sunk in when he made that comment. Everything I have every dreamt and worked for in hockey, I am doing it right now.”

Laich felt some pressure from his family to stay in Washington as well, in particular his brother who has developed his own relationships in the United States capital.

“I’ve been there six years and you have neighbors and you’re part of the community. Jordan has been coming down twice a year for six years and there are people that know him. He’s got friends down there too, and I get asked, ‘When’s your brother Jordo coming down?’ So when I resigned he was pretty happy because he’s comfortable there too,” said Laich.

The relationship with Boudreau is something that was cultivated during their time together in the minors, when the two won a Calder Cup together in Hershey. At the NHL level, the Capitals have experienced terrific regular seasons, highlighted with a Presidents Trophy in 2009-10, but that success hasn’t translated into postseason glory. In the last four years, Washington has failed to make it to a Stanley Cup final, and twice, they were bounced out before the conference final. The playoff failures mean Laich doesn’t have everything he’s every dreamt about as a hockey player growing up.

“The only thing missing is having a Stanley Cup,” he said.

Drinking from Lord Stanley’s mug is something Laich intends to remedy in the near future.

“I’m excited for our chances to win a Cup and I think for the next ten years, our team in Washington will compete for a Stanley Cup and that was very important to me,” explained Laich.

The Capitals came under heavy criticism this year after the team switched from a run-and-gun offensive team to a club that put more emphasis on the defensive aspects of the game. Some sports pundits believed Washington was built to play the 1980s Edmonton Oilers brand of hockey and felt the change in philosophy was detrimental to the team. In team sports the only belief that matters comes from the 20 guys in the dressing room and Laich said they never wavered.

“The style change, flipping from a super offence team to an aggressive two-way team made us a better hockey team. I believe we have a chance and the ability to finish first in the league in goals against. Last year we finished fourth and we didn’t start the real solid two-way play until the middle of the season. We were a better team after we made that switch and there is no using that as an excuse or a crutch for why we lost out in the playoffs,” he said.

The team does possess quite possibly the best collection of pure goal scorers in the game, a list that includes Ovechkin, Semin, Backstrom and Green.

“We have natural gifted offensive abilities that very few teams have but if we can add in being a solid defensive team, I think those two things are going to help us win a Stanley Cup,” said Laich. “My dad has always preached about being a two-way player and when I got to Washington it was a little lop-sided towards the offensive side and now it looks like our defensive side is starting to come around.”

It would have been easy for Laich to shift some of the blame of disappointing playoff runs on the team’s good but young defense core. Instead he shouldered the load himself, one of the many reasons he was selected to wear the alternate captain’s “A” on his jersey when needed throughout the season. His hockey IQ is off the charts and Laich recognizes it’s better to have to work the defensive side of the game rather than trying to force players into offensive roles they’re not comfortable in.

“The good thing is most times you can teach the defensive side of the game but you can’t teach a natural ability or offensive instincts. I’m happy we have that natural ability that I don’t think many teams have but if we can couple that with defensive ability…then I think we are very dangerous,” he said.

It’s never easy answering questions about personal and team failures but Laich said the fact the questions are being asked means there is an expectation in Washington that wasn’t there during his first two years as a professional.

“The expectation in Washington now is to win a Stanley Cup,” said Laich. “I think in the league there are six or seven teams that have the ability to win a Stanley Cup and I think our team is one of those teams.”

The team endured its fair share of adversity throughout the 2010-11 season. At one point the team went through an eight game losing streak that was captured on HBO’s series 24/7, a show that highlighted the journey of the Pittsburgh Penquins and Washington Capitals to the outdoor Winter Classic.

“The reaction from fans is that everybody says they absolutely loved it and I understand that. From a players’ perspective I didn’t like it one bit. It might have been because during the filming we were on a losing streak so I wasn’t happy in the first place but then you have a guy with a camera right in your face, in the weight room, the training room, the video room, the locker-room on the bench, it was at times overbearing,” said Laich.

He said he hasn’t watched the series yet but understood how the league was trying to show the inner workings of the game in an attempt to reach out to new fans and show old ones something new.

“To be honest if I could I’d like to just go to the rink, play the game, and go home. I’m not in the game for fame or notoriety. I grew up playing in the forum in Wawota where all you could do was play hockey and I think that is still inside of me. Doing the media aspect of it, the TV and the interviews, that’s what I consider work, the rest of the day I get to play,” he said.

Laich didn’t just go the rink, play and go home after a game 7 loss to Montreal two years ago. Instead he stopped to help a woman and her daughter change a tire on the side of the road hours after being eliminated from the post season.

“I feel bad because I bet my brother has fixed a thousand more tires than I have and I fix one and it gets blown way out of proportion,” he said with a chuckle.

You get a sense talking to Laich how important his family is. Hockey players miss weddings, births of nieces and nephews and birthday parties, one of the reasons he tries to soak up being an uncle as much as he can in the offseason.

“Being an uncle flips your world upside down,” said Laich. “Me and my sister (Jodi) Skype a couple times a week during the season because I was terrified of being the uncle that my niece and nephews didn’t know or didn’t recognize. I can’t wait for the boys (twins Rhett and Alex) to grow up and be huge hockey fans and Kalli is already a fan. She has a jersey and they’re teaching her how to throw her hands in the air and say, ‘Score.’”

That sense of family and community is evident when he speaks about what he’s going to do when he accomplishes his ultimate goal.

“It is so much fun to go home and the people are so supportive,” said Laich. “One day the dream is to bring the Stanley Cup back to the rink in Wawota. It runs through my head when I’m doing the 20 bike sprint at the gym. One day I’m going to reward all of the people that have supported me with a Stanley Cup. I’d love to see everyone have a big party at the rink and see everyone from all around raise the Stanley Cup over their head.”

Baseball's storied past needs a facelift

Alright, after the latest barrage of missed calls by umpires in baseball, Major League Baseball has to adopt instant replay—don’t they?

There has been a plethora of bad calls the last few years constantly raising the question of whether or not baseball should adopt an instant replay policy. Currently, umpires can only go to instant replay to determine whether a ball left the field of play resulting in a homerun.

Last week in Atlanta the mother of all bad calls was made during a nineteen inning game between the Braves and the Pittsburgh Pirates. Julio Lugo—yes, the same Julio Lugo that was in Boston at the turn of the century—slid into home plate where Pirates catcher Michael McKenry was waiting for him. The tag was applied and then it happened.

A quick wash outward of the umpire’s arms to signal the runner was safe at homeplate.

So he made a bad call—a fact the umpire would later admit to the media—but let’s break down exactly what it may cost everyone involved.

Maybe more shockingly than the blown call is the fact the Pittsburgh Pirates are competing for a playoff spot this year. At the time, the loss dropped the Bucs to one game behind the Milwaukee Brewers for top spot in the Central Division. Imagine if you can, those same Pirates finding themselves one game out of the playoffs on the final day of the MLB regular season.

The last time Pittsburgh got to the playoffs was in 1992, ironically squaring off against the Atlanta Braves. The series would go seven games with a play at the plate winning it for Atlanta in the ninth inning—heartbreak.

But put the historical heartbreak aside for what the Pirates could be giving up as a result of one terrible call.

Millions of dollars.

Revenue for the team, players and coaches—not to mention the gambling money that would have been wagered on that game. I can see the poor bugger waiting for the result of the six-hour game, hanging on every pitch.

“C’mon Pittsburgh. If the Pirates can sneak out a victory I’ll win $2,000 on my Sports Select ticket,” he’d be saying to his buddies moments before throwing his chair through the television after witnessing the blown call, resulting in a gross loss of $2,800. Okay, maybe a little overkill but regardless of your views on sports betting, you have to admit that is a pretty tough pill to swallow.

Although there would’ve also been those who won so maybe all is fair in love and war on the gambling aspect of things.

Jim Joyce’s missed call resulted in Armando Galarraga losing a perfect game. The way Galarraga and Joyce handled the incident has been championed as on of the greatest displays of sportsmanship in professional sports. The two have since written a book called ‘Nobody’s Perfect: two men, one call, and a game for baseball history.’

But the question is, why do we accept wrong calls—I have always hated the notion of good and bad calls because ultimately they are either the right call or the wrong call, black and white, it’s as simple as that.

Baseball purists will tell you that instant replay will destroy the game. That the human error has always been a part of the game. I certainly can’t argue that it has always been a part of the game but why does getting the call right make the game worse off?

I understand that the human element creates controversy, and controversy creates dialogue, and dialogue creates interest, but I’ve never understood why everyone would be more happy getting the calls right. I personally believe that instant replay will make the game far better, not worse.

I’ve long argued that every pitch, hit, error, missed cut-off man, blocked ball, stolen base etc... can completely change the outcome of a game. I’ve seen umpires miss strike calls, for whatever reason, only to see the next pitch leave the park for a three-run homerun.

What was the count before the missed strike call?

The most obvious scenario is any count that had the batter hitting with two-strikes, which would have resulted in a strikeout, never giving the hitter an opportunity to hit the homerun. But even at say 0-1 instead of 1-0 the pitcher attacks the zone differently, aware he doesn’t need to try to even the count at 1-1 but can try to get the hitter to chase a pitch out of the strikezone.

It’s the butterfly effect of baseball and we all know it exists. One misplay or miscall results in a big crooked number on the scoreboard.

One more example and that’s it I promise—but there is just so many to choose from.

In 2009 the sweetheart Minnesota Twins played the big bad New York Yankees in the American League Divisional Series. The second game went to extras when in the eleventh inning Joe ‘Sideburns’ Mauer ripped a double off of a Yankees reliever. The ball was called foul but was clearly shown as landing fair, about six to eight inches inside the foul line.

Mauer would eventually single—baseball gods evening things out, some would say.

The next batter, Jason Kubel, singled. Mauer, who runs well for a catcher—or at least did prior to this season—would have probably scored on the single. But let’s say he got a bad jump and only got to third base, if the proper call was made on the originally Mauer hit.

Michael Cuddyer promptly followed up Kubel’s single with one of his own. Now, no one can argue Mauer would have crossed the plate as the go-ahead run in the top of the eleventh. Instead Mauer stood on third, where he would stay for the rest of the inning as the Yankees escaped the bases-loaded nobody-out jam to get out of the half inning.

The first batter up in the bottom half of the inning, Mark Texeira, hit a solo-homerun to win the game.

That blast would have only tied the game in the other scenario and that’s suggesting the Twins wouldn’t have scored more runs in the inning once Mauer plated. And that’s not even taking into account the psychological advantage the Yankees garnered by escaping the inning.

I can quite reasonably conceive a scenario where, if the that foul ball call against Joe Mauer is called correctly, Minnesota goes on to win the World Series.

That’s right, one call cost the Minnesota Twins the World Series, need I say more about the need for instant replay in baseball—wait till I get started on inaccurate science of calling balls and strikes.