The First Soft Steps on the Path to “DOOM”

Regular readers of this blog (when it was a more regular publication) and good friends of mine are well aware of the "DOOM" scenario as often prophesized by my wife Emily.

“DOOM” as defined by Emily involves a Stanley Cup Finals match-up between our two favorite hockey teams; the Pittsburgh Penguins and the Chicago Blackhawks.  The fact that said match-up no longer threatens to impede our pending nuptials, as it would have three years ago is irrelevant.  Simply put, “DOOM” is a bad thing.  To put it in proper perspective, one would likely need to have been involved in our wedding planning and/or spent Super Bowl week with the Harbaugh parents.

When we first started discussing (or more likely dreading) the concept three years ago it was distasteful. Now, it’s FAR worse.  My wife has always been a Hawks fan first but three years ago her loyalties were more closely divided.  Today she is as rabid a Hawks fans as you will find anywhere. She LIKES the Pens…she LOVES the Hawks.

I bleed black and gold and that will never change.  Still, my Hawks fandom has grown as well, sufficient even to attend an away game by myself in San Jose last February.  I do not doubt my wife’s influence on that development (which is unfortunate because I would NEVER try to influence her sports loyalties) but there is more to the story. 

I have lived in Chicago nearly 18 years.  I live one mile from the United Center.  I love hockey.  And five years ago the Hawks performed the most startling sports metamorphosis ever seen.  They changed almost instantaneously from one of the worst organizations in North American sports to one of the best.  On top of which, they dispatched the Orange and Black Goon Squad in the Stanley Cup finals, thus allowing me to remain in existential harmony with the hockey universe.  It’s a debt of gratitude I can never truly repay.

For most of the hockey world, a Pens/Hawks match-up for the sport’s most cherished prize would be a dream.  They are the league’s two best teams bar none and arguably the most exciting as well. With all due respect to Barry Trotz, it is highly unlikely that either Dan Bylsma or Joel Quenneville with unveil the neutral zone trap if that series comes to pass.

For Emily and me, it’s an unmitigated nightmare. 

The two clubs have met only four times since we became “an item”, and the atmosphere around us could be charitably described as “uncomfortable” each time.  Mind you that is with nothing but organizational pride at stake in any of those games.  One cannot help but think that our 1,295 square feet of living space will seem a bit congested if fate and/or Crosby and Toews were to deliver this match-up.  And keep in mind I have not even addressed the Marian Hossa issue.

So the question becomes, how close are we to “DOOM”?  Is it a forgone conclusion that these two teams will meet in the Stanley Cup finals?  NHL history after all is replete with unfathomable post season upsets.  Just last season an 8^th seed Los Angeles team that barely qualified for the post season caught fire and rampaged to a championship.  Rarely do the NHL’s two best regular season teams meet in the finals.

Just as rarely however does the league produce one team, let alone two with a 75% regular season winning percentage. If you toss out shootouts, given the obvious random element involved, the Penguins and Blackhawks COMBINED to lose only 19 of 96 hockey games this season.  The Blackhawks opened the season with a 24 game point streak; the Penguins followed with a 15 game winning streak.  So yes, there is cause for mild concern (if not full on panic).

And yet in the true spirit of being conflicted sports fans, we fear both the prospect of “DOOM” and the absence of “DOOM”.  We can interchangeably dread the potential for this match-up and the equally nerve wracking idea of another early exit for either or both.  It’s the great conundrum of our dual hockey existence.

The merciless nature of the NHL is this; the playoffs truly are a second season, separate and distinct from the first.  Post season failure will eradicate virtually any level of regular season success.  Penguin fans know this well; it took only two dreadful weeks last April to erase six months of inspired hockey from our memories.

There were palatable if not comforting explanations for the Penguins losses to Montreal and Tampa in 2010 and 2011.  Conversely the team is still washing off the stench of last year’s collapse against their most hated rival.  Their performance was completely inexcusable and put virtually EVERY player (short of #87) and coach on notice that another such meltdown could end their time in the Burgh. 

The Blackhawks needed two full seasons to recover from the salary cap armageddon that occurred after they skated the cup in 2010.  Even still, their loss to Phoenix last season was uninspired at best.  The team never looked truly right after the All Star Break and the worst kept secret in the league was the tension between Quenneville and Scotty Bowman’s kid.  I’m not sure exactly where management sides in this dispute but suffice to say, either or both could be unemployed if the Hawks are ousted before Memorial Day.

Which means simply that the Pens and Hawks are both at risk of being branded Washington Crapital style post season chokers if the drop out early again this year.  To that end, my honest belief is that both teams but especially the Penguins benefited from the short-season.  I can only imagine the build-up of angst over 82 games for a team with Stanley Cup or bust expectations and a 20 point lead in the standings.  Even with that, the collateral damage from another early exit could be significant. 

No other sport ascribes less importance to its regular season than the NHL.  For great teams and great players, immortality is earned in May and June.  Brett Favre and Peyton Manning fashioned impenetrable legacies in spite of numerous post season failures because NFL regular season success is considered a noteworthy achievement.  In the National Hockey League, it’s merely a footnote.

When you are as talented as the Pittsburgh Penguins and the Chicago Blackhawks, getting to the Stanley Cup tournament is taken as a given.  It’s what you do afterward that creates or maintains your legacy. 

The Pens and Hawks are championship caliber teams.  Both are deep and talented, exceptionally well coached and experienced under playoff pressure.  Both have a core of players with proven abilities to step up in the biggest of games.  Notwithstanding the wild-card of the shortened season, I cannot remember a year where two NHL teams appeared so obviously superior to the rest of the league. 

Even with that, “DOOM” is still a long ways away.  It remains incredibly difficult to win one NHL playoff series let alone three.  There are completely unpredictable variables such as injuries (see Crosby, Sidney) and hot goaltenders (see Halak, Jaroslav).  There are bad breaks, bad schedules, and bad match-ups.  Any number of things could happen between now and mid June to prevent this match-up.  When Emily and I view either team individually, such concerns are at the forefront of our collective thoughts. 

 
When we view the teams collectively, the “DOOM” scenario seems almost unavoidable.  As such Emily and I are beset by a truly unsettling paradox. If we get exactly what we want, we will get exactly what we do not want. It's the ultimate circular reference in our hockey lives.

As if to drive home this point, the NHL created an almost unfathomable scheduling coincidence whereby the Hawks and Pens play the same night in six of their seven first round games. I’m not a Gary Bettman hater by nature but even his most strident enemies cannot think him diabolical enough to have purposely crafted such a schedule.

For now, I will simply speak in the time honored language of coach-speak.  We will take each game and each series one at a time.  We will worry solely about the teams in front of us.  There is a lot of hockey to be played between now and mid June.  For better or for worse, anything can happen.

Blogging the Blackhawks and Sharks…LIVE from San Jose.

My typically erratic work schedule has me in San Francisco this week.  In a fortuitous bit of scheduling, my adopted home town Blackhawks are in San Jose to play the Sharks; a battle of two of the league’s hottest clubs early in this abbreviated season.  And while most of the Bay Area (and one loan Steeler fan) remain chronically depressed over the 49ers' Super Bowl loss; the local hockey gentry were clearly fired up for this early season grudge match.

If I’m 2,000 miles from home and headed to a sporting event, it can only mean one thing...a Bill Simmons style recap of the evening.  Rest assured this is approved for all audiences including Penguin and Philly fans.  All times pacific standard time and HEAVILY estimated. 

1:20pm – The miracle that is Stub Hub.  It takes me 5 minutes to find, purchase, and receive tickets to a hockey game in San Jose. 

6:20pm – Call me a technology curmudgeon but I simply do not trust GPS.  Alas, I fire up Siri and let her be my guide rather than using the old school printed Google directions our forefathers relied on.  By the time I return to my hotel five hours later I will conclude that Siri took me a solid 15 minutes out of my way.  Grrrr.

7:10pm – Parking by the HP Pavilion is $25, which is a bit steep in my humble estimation.  News flash, the Silicon Valley billionaire era ended in 2001.

 

 

7:15pm – A quick check of the IPhone shows the Penguins win their 4^th straight, 4-2 over the Islanders.  This point is fairly irrelevant to the evening’s adventure but for the fact that there is NEVER an inappropriate time to mention four straight Penguin victories.  ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY PENGUIN…BLESSED BE THE PENGUIN, FOR IT IS GOOD.

7:30pm – My seat is in the isle…literally.  You walk up the steps and literally right in to my seat on the edge of row 6.  It makes for an incredible view if nobody is in front of you.  IF…nobody is in front of you.

7:35pm – My issues with Blackhawks’ bird mascot Tommy Hawk are well documented but taking that out of the equation; the Sharks' mascot repels from the scoreboard to the ice on a rope.  I don’t care what team you root for, dopey shark mascots dropping from the sky is simply awesome.

7:40pm – Corey Crawford spits up a brutal rebound and Joe PAVELski pounces it on it for an early goal.  Not the start the Hawks were looking for.

7:45pm – Some guy named Tommy Wiggles fires a wicked wrister by Crawford to make it 2-0.  I’m a Penguin fan by trade but I fear I’ve transferred my usual bad road karma to the Hawks.  In an ironic twist of fate, Wiggles (not his actual name) is a Chicago native.  Go figure.  Laser beam of a shot but Crawford was WAY too deep in his net.  Crawford is playing like…well, he’s struggling.

7:50pm – In yet another incredibly ironic twist, Blackhawks’ forward and Pittsburgh native Brandon Saad scores his first NHL goal to cut the deficit in half.  A Pittsburgh guy who lives and works in Chicago has a big hockey adventure in San Jose.  If Saad was an accountant…he’d be me !  Onward and upward.

7:55pm – Crawford gives up another softie to make it 3-1.  I start gesticulating wildly for Coach Q to pull him for Ray Emery.  I’m not sure what’s worse, that I somehow feel this action will affect Quenville’s decision or that I’m aggressively lobbying to see Ray Emery enter an NHL game.

7:56pm – While the crowd is still celebrating the 3^rd Sharks goal, Andrew Shaw pounds a rebound past by my wife’s all-time favorite player Antii Niemi.  From 2,000 miles away I sense massive conflict and angst.

8:00pm – This game is just nuts.  Marcus Kruger of all people ties it at 3.  Again...Marcus Kruger.  We’ve had 6 goals on about 4 shots in the first period and amazingly neither goaltender gets the hook.

8:14pm – I grab a bite to each between periods.  They actually have Panda Express at the Shark Tank but I’m thinking Kung Pao chicken and hockey, not a match.  Which regrettably leads to the following…

8:15pm – I find a place called Sonoma Chicken which I mistakenly assume will be healthier than burgers or dogs.  I order a jalapeno chicken sandwich and I’m told it comes with tortilla chips.  I notice they also have sides of rice and mashed potatoes which apparently go with their rotisserie chicken meal.  So I ask the guy if I can have potatoes instead of chips.  He responds, “The sandwich only comes with chips.”  I ask him if I can pay extra for a side of potatoes.  He responds, “No, it comes with chips.”  I tell him again, “I will pay extra (i.e. cash) for the potatoes.”  He says, “No, we can’t do that.”  Seriously, they will not SELL me a side of mashed potatoes, let alone just give it to me.  YOU CAN’T MAKE THIS STUFF UP.

8:30pm – The San Jose ushers take their jobs really, really seriously.  They absolutely refuse to let people walk to their seats until a stoppage in play (a policy I support).  They also walk through the sections and enforce that you sit back in your chair because leaning forward obstructs the view of those behind you.  Must be some kind of new liberal social policy in California.

8:50pm – Jamaal Mayers, the guy the Hawks pay to beat people up, absorbs a horrific high speed hit at the blue line and appears to be knocked out.  Duncan Keith of all people comes to his aid and a brawl ensues.  I could spend time lamenting the risks to Keith’s expensive new false teeth but instead I’ll go with my old familiar rant.  How can the NHL claim fighting is necessary as a deterrent to cheap shots but add a 2 minute instigator and 10 minute misconduct if you fight to actually defend a teammate...after a cheap shot?   Keep in mind that if Keith had waited until the next shift and ASKED for a fight, it’s all good.  So apparently fighting is perfectly acceptable as a deterrent to cheap shots, as long as the other guy gives his express written consent.  Cause you know…that makes sense.

8:51pm – End of anti-fighting rant.

9:00pm – Jonathan Toews strips Douglas Murray puck naked, and sets up Patrick Kane for a brilliant one time finish.  Play of the night, hands down. The Hawks now have four goals or TWO more than I’ve been treated too COMBINED in the last FOUR Penguin road games I’ve attended.  Not that I’m bitter.

9:01pm – I come to the random realization that I am no longer repulsed by the presence of Marian Hossa in a Blackhawks’ uniform.  Just five years and all is forgiven.

9:05pm – Kiss cam in San Jose is borderline soft core porn.   

9:15pm – Men’s room at the Shark Tank gets 4 stars.  And trust me…I’m an expert in such evaluations.

9:35pm - Crawford robs (insert Shark name here) with a brilliant point blank save.  Give Coach Q credit for sticking with his guy and for somehow managing to ignore the crazy gesticulations from section 221 just 90 minutes earlier.

9:50pm – The linesmen gets clocked with a slap shot clearing attempt and crumbles to the ice in agony.  Over 17,500 fans cheer in unison because, you know, nothing unites us like a potentially serious injury.  Why on earth would ANYBODY want to be an official?   

10:00pm – Hawks fans know about the crazy, long haired freaky guy who makes bizarre angry faces and gestures on the scoreboard every game to fire up the UC. Well, in San Jose they have their own version; a fat old guy who looks suspiciously like Bruce Boudreau (seriously).  As I watch his stomach and man boobs crescendo like waves in the Pacific, I am officially thankful they for the earlier mashed potatoes rejection.  Just one less thing for me to recycle (read, vomit).

10:05pm – This comment from a Sharks fan behind me is pretty much the GREATEST SUMMATION EVER of the career of Scott Gomez.  “He does not score very often…but he has good ideas.”  Bravo.

 

10:06pm - It's just too good to consider that Gomez, the most overpaid bust in NHL history is added to a team that already includes Joe Thornton and Patrick Marleau.  I'm literally salavating at the amount of smart ass material this gives me for my playoff predictions.  By the way, I finally notice Thornton on the ice when he serves a delay of game penalty against Niemi.  So that's something.

10:10pm – Patrick Kane fires home an empty netter…HAWKS WIN!  Huge win for the red hot Hawks.  I bolt for the exit and beat traffic thanks primarily to my perfectly placed isle seat.

 

10:15pm – My rush to beat traffic leaves no time to program the GPS. The printed directions send the wrong way on the expressway. Technology karma sucks.

10;20pm – I’m listening to a sports talk show hosted by get this…GUY HABERMAN.  Seriously…GUY HABERMAN !!!  Guy knows his stuff although he spends too much time lamenting the life and times of Jim Harbaugh.  By the way, did you know the two head coaches in the Super Bowl were brothers?

 11:30pm – End of a long day?  Desperately needed sleep or completely useless blog?  You guessed it.

Free Ride is Over for Fleury

At his best, Marc-Andre Fleury is one of the top goaltenders in the National Hockey League.

And like most elite goaltenders, Fleury often suffers at the expense of unreasonable fan expectations.  Which is a politically correct way of saying he bears the brunt of the blame whenever the red light goes on, deserved or not.

That’s the life of an NHL goaltender; especially one who plays for a talented team that can be charitably described as “lapse” times defensively from time to time.  Tom Barrasso lived in comparable fashion during his best years in the Burgh, long before he became a local media pariah.  It's fair to say that life as a Penguin goaltender is far more challenging than it is for say, Brian Elliott in St’ Louis.

Perhaps it truly is a matter of expectations.  We have seen that Fleury at his best can be as good as any goaltender in the game.  So to whatever extent he’s not at that level it’s considered a letdown.  That may very well be the case but I struggle to believe that Henrik Lundqvist faces the same level of vitriol as Fleury after a bad performance.

More often than not I think Fleury is an easy scapegoat.  Most fans remember Michael Grabner’s shot going under Fleury’s arm; not the horrendous giveaway by Deryk Engelland that precipitated a 100 foot breakaway. 

So with that preamble in the bank, I will now contradict pretty much everything I’ve stated above.  As great as Fleury is and can be, as great as he was during back to back Stanley Cup finals’ runs, he is officially on notice.  He has to be better, especially in the post season.  And if he is not, he will not play.  The Penguins made that crystal clear by bringing in Tomas Vokoun as their second goaltender.

Ray Shero could have signed any number of back-ups during the offseason.  He could have brought in a reliable second guy like Chris Mason or Al Montoya.  Instead he chose a goaltender with a decade long track record as a 60+ game starter.  That was not an accident or coincidence, it was a message.  The goaltending paradigm in the Burgh has changed.

Simply put, the days where Marc-Andre Fleury can expect to start 4 of 5 games on reputation alone are over.  The Pens have made it clear that if he’s not the best goaltender, he sits.  I truly believe Fleury must outplay Vokoun to keep his job, for better or for worse.

The issue is no longer assessing Fleury’s culpability in losses.  It’s now about whether Fleury can be the difference maker in Penguin wins.  Good is no longer good enough.  Fleury has to be great, and consistently so.

That’s his pedigree and his pay grade.  When you have a $5 Million per year goaltender and a shaky defense, the expectations are clear.  Fleury needs to return to his 2009 and 2010 post season form.  He cannot be a caretaker net minder on this team; he has to be the Jonathan Quick or Tim Thomas style difference maker he is fully capable of being.

There is no getting around the fact that Fleury was terrible against Philly last year.  We can debate the reasons why; including my staunch belief he was grievously overplayed in the regular season (twice starting 4 games in 6 days).  There is no doubt in my mind he wore down physically in April.

And I will not let the Penguins off the hook for what was a historically bad defensive performance in that series.  No goaltender would have thrived behind that defensive abomination.  That loss put everyone on notice; the team has to be better from 1 to 20; including the head coach. 

But simply put, Marc-Andre Fleury must be better.  He has to be a post season difference maker on this team every bit as much as Crosby and Malkin.

 
The Pens have departed early from the playoffs in three straight seasons.  There were plenty of reasons the Pens lost in 2010 and 2011 and Fleury is only one of them.  In fairness, Fleury played better than he gets credit for against Tampa and without 87 and 71 there was little or no chance the Pens would win that series.

Last year however was a different animal.  Yes the defense was exceptionally poor at times but it also became clear that other than game 5, Fleury was not making the big saves when needed.  He lost his confidence and his game fell apart.  Even after the Consol crowd performed mental CPR in game 5, Fleury crashed back to earth in game 6.

His performance was bad at face value; incomprehensible in the context of how great Fleury was for most of the season. 

It was truly the first time since he arrived in Pittsburgh that I questioned Fleury’s future with the organization.  It was also eerily reminiscent of his early season struggles in 2010-11.  That was the year that Fleury struggled terribly for two months; coinciding fortuitously with the greatest stretch of performance in Brent Johnson's life.

Which brings us back to Tomas Vokoun.

I am by no means his biggest supporter.  He always struck me as a great regular season goalie on bad teams; a guy who puts up a high save percentage but never wins anything.  You cannot objectively evaluate Vokoun’s career without conceding that he has only twice appeared in the post season and NEVER won a playoff series.  Even his work for the Czech Olympic team was subpar the one year he was their starter.

But there is no questioning that Vokoun has a number one track record and a starter’s pedigree.  There is also no question that the Penguins have never teamed a goaltender of this caliber with MAF.  At the very least, he’s capable of pushing Fleury; at the most he’s capable of taking his job.  That’s something Johnson could never do; even during his career season of 2010-11.

At face value, Vokoun was brought in to ease Fleury’s workload.  In reality however he was brought in as goaltending insurance and a legitimate threat to the number one job.  To wit, Fleury had a strong game last week in Ottawa and followed it up with a so-so performance against the Islanders; a game where he allowed just one obviously weak goal.   It’s the type of game that you could easily excuse a goaltender for given that the Pens were flat top to bottom.  In past years, that’s exactly what would have happened.

Not this year.

This year, Bylsma went immediately to Vokoun.  And Vokoun responded with a tremendous and stabilizing performance behind the best Penguin defensive effort of the year.  My guess is he will be back in the nets on Saturday against New Jersey.  A strong performance there and he might get the floundering Craps on Sunday as well.  That never would have happened with Johnson last season.

In the end, this is a good thing.  I believe Fleury is at his best when he’s pushed; as shown by Johnson in 2011 and by Ty Conklin in 2008.  Fleury never played better than he did after Conklin set a shockingly high bar with career best work.  When Fleury is at that level he is absolutely a game changing goaltender.  Having legitimate competition for post season playing time might very well push him back to it.

I also recall Bob Johnson doing the same thing to Barrasso during the first half of the 1990-91 season.  Barrasso was coming off a sluggish 1989-90 season and perhaps taking his number one position for granted.  I’m fairly confident that Tommy was not thrilled sitting behind the uninspired likes of Wendell Young and Frank Pietrangelo but ultimately the message got through; you have to be better.  That season ended with Pens carrying their first Stanley Cup.

The Penguins have some work to do to be legitimate Stanley Cup contenders.  That includes addressing a glaring need for grit and two obvious holes; a defensive defensemen and a second line winger.  As talented as this team is, those needs MUST be addressed. 

And just assuredly, they must get elite level goaltending.  Fleury has proven he can give that in the past.  This year, he'll have to prove it again.

The NHL Makes the Case for a Shorter Season

I have covered ad nauseum in previous blogs my nearly cult-like love of hockey.  Given that, it should be obvious to my readers that I can and will watch the NHL whenever and wherever it’s played.  I want that disclaimer out their clear as day before I attack the topic of a shorter NHL season.

With that caveat let me say this, I’ve never been more convinced than I am right now that the NHL season is too long.  And the NHL, in the infinite short-sightedness of its ridiculous lockout is the group that persuaded me.

Yes 82 games make great entertainment for the hockey devotees of the world.  Yes there are many of us that are fully tuned in to watch the Penguins play Winnipeg in October.  And by this time in our lives, every one of us knows that the result of that game does not make a damn bit of difference in the grand scheme of the sports universe.  We are watching it purely for entertainment value.

I would argue there is more than enough entertainment value for even the most devoted hockey fans in a 70 game season.  And the result would be a significantly better regular season product.  It might not eliminate the notion of the regular season being meaningless, but it would cut in to it quite a bit.

Here’s the thing; before this year this concept was mostly theoretical.  But after enduring the length and breadth of the dumbest labor stoppage in sports history I can definitively state the following; life did indeed go on for me without the National Hockey League. 

Not only that, there seems to be a great deal of excitement surrounding the 48 game season.  Certainly that is due in part to hockey fans simply rejoicing over the return of their sport but I would argue there is more.  Simply put, every game this season will take on infinitely greater significance.  You can argue that no one game will make or break the Penguins season.  But you can argue with equal vigor that there will be no throw away games in Rochester this season.

My wife Emily discovered two interesting things this week about her beloved Blackhawks; the season ticket waiting list actually increased during the lockout and ticket prices on the secondary market are higher than years past.  Certainly this is not the case in Columbus, Miami, or Phoenix but let’s be honest, things would be no different in those cities if the season had started in on time.  Apparently reports of the NHL’s demise were premature.

I’m not saying I did not miss hockey during the lockout.  I did...a lot.  And like most of the sports die-hard fans I got angrier and angrier with each passing day.  I’m sure there will be some ramifications to the sport and it may take several years before we fully understand the depth of them.

The reality however is that I did not truly feel a void in my life until there was no thanksgiving week Penguin game (for which we subbed in the infinitely forgettable Byron Leftwich experience).  And again, this is coming from a guy who lives and breathes the NHL.  Unlike in 2004 I did not resort to desperation activities like Chicago Wolves games in Rosemount or for the love of all that’s good and holy…the NBA.  I’m not sure what was worse that year; looking forward to seeing Kari Lehtonen play live in an old airplane hangar or attending six Kirk Hinrich starts at the United Center (a debate I hope never to fully engage).

And there were certainly low points during the lockout; the worst of which came when I found myself watching the Jets and Titans play a Thursday night game that set NFL football back four decades.  How bad is a sporting event when you are silently begging for Tim Tebow to play, purely for the entertainment value?  But the reality is I had other options.

I rediscovered something back in October for example.  I actually enjoy the baseball playoffs.  That’s an easy thing to forget when you grow up in Pittsburgh and move to Chicago and thus rarely if ever put post season baseball on your sports calendar.  With no hockey in circulation I found the playoffs a more that suitable substitute for the aforementioned Penguins/Winnipeg clash.

In past years I would have been watching hockey without a second thought; especially given that we follow two teams in the HaberSeto household.  But I’m definitively in the minority on this amongst American Sports fans.  The simply reality is that outside of the zealous hockey inter-sanctum, most people will choose baseball, college football, or even the NBA (at least if TMZSPN has its way). 

The reality is that the NHL should not put fans in that position.  The league gets buried in the October sports shuffle in part because of its overall ranking but also because fans realize that the game they are watching is likely meaningless.  Yes I once choose the Penguins home opener over get this, a Pirate playoff game (obviously not recently) but most conflicted sports fans will choose the more meaningful event.

I also see no need for hockey in June.  Most casual fans have moved on by then and unless their team is still playing, they’ve check out.  The Penguins skated their first Stanley Cup on May 25^th, 1991.  Quite frankly, I don’t see any reason the cup should be awarded later than that.

So what’s my solution?  Cut the season back to 70 games and remove four weeks from the schedule.  Three of those weeks would be on the front end and one on the back.  Under that construction this year’s NHL season, sans lockout would have started on November 1^st and ended on March 31^st.  That takes the NHL off the ridiculously crowded October sports calendar and also sets up the annual bash Bettman ceremony for late May.

On top of which the regular season, which is often perceived as insignificant (see Kings, Los Angeles), will be far more competitive.  No a 70 game season will not rival the NFL or college football for game to game significance.  There will still be a build-up period early in the year. But with 12 fewer games, teams will have to dig in a lot sooner.  There simply will not be enough time to recover from a bad first month.

The shorter season will also reduce the ever increasing wear and tear on the players.  Hockey is faster and more physical than ever and concussions are rampant (see Crosby, Sid).  All things being equal, there is not a player in the league who could rationally object to 12 fewer games.

But therein lies the rub.  All things are not equal.  Taking away 15% of the regular season schedule means taking away 15% of the league’s revenue (give or take).  It also means the players would have to give up 15% of their salaries.  And heaven forbid Ryan Miller has to get by on only $5.1 Million annually.  One canonly imagine his public vitriol towards Bettman if that scenario came to pass.

Which means, at the end of the day there is a greater chance of Disque and I facing off in a steel cage match for the WWE championship than there is the NHL shortening its season.  It’s simply not going to happen.  The league wants to maximize every dollar of revenue it can get, at least in the year’s it’s not foolishly scuttling its product for 3 ½ months.   So it will stick with the 82 games no matter how many times the 8^th seed wins the Stanley Cup.

Given that reality, it will enjoy the 48 game mini-season for the unique, one-time entertainment value it will provide.  I have an inkling that after a sluggish start; you might see some of the best regular season hockey ever played.  For once every game will truly matter.  Even the ones in Winnipeg.

 BETTER LATE THAN NEVER…Welcome back NHL

The NHL Lockout Gets Personal

I love hockey, which is not exactly breaking news to those who know me.  So it should not be shocking that the latest NHL lockout has been a source of emotional angst for me from the day it was announced.

I know that a preponderance of the American sporting public is yawning and could care less that games are not being played.  Some may even be celebrating that fact.  I understand this with crystal clarity because quite frankly, when the NBA was going through this exact issue a year ago I could have cared less.

This however is personal.  I feel as if something that I love is being forcibly taken away and I am powerless to stop it.   All because some very short-sighted individuals on both sides are letting arrogance, greed, and a feeling of entitlement interfere with common sense.

I’ve tried from the beginning to take a pragmatic approach to this, at least as much as I’m capable.  Alas after last week’s promising talks broke down amidst juvenile sniping and seven figure bruised egos, I officially lost it.  The dueling news conferences held by Betteman and Fehr was the moment the NHL lockout officially jumped the shark.  It was the point where both sides essentially stated, it’s more important for us to WIN the CBA then it is to do what’s best for their sport.  A sport by the way that struggles terribly for mainstream acceptance in most of the United States.

Better yet, the moment Bill Daly uttered his infamous and patently moronic, “this is the hill we will die on” comment, the season was officially in jeopardy. 

I no longer want to make logical arguments even if they are obviously there to be made.  I just want to walk in to a room filled with all of these idiots and scream…DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW STUPID YOU ALL ARE!?!  Remember the age old question, if a tree falls in the woods and nobody is around, does it make a sound?

So yes, I’m emotional.  Much more so than I was during the 2004 lockout and even when they ultimately cancelled the season.   I was devastated (in a strictly sports sense) when that happened but I GRUDGINGLY understood.  Regardless of any revisionist history being painted now, the NHL at that time was a financial calamity with an untenable business model.  It had to be fixed, no matter the cost. 

This time, it simply needs a financial nip and tuck.  That makes it impossible to justify nearly three months of lost hockey.

There is however a far more personal element for me this time, one that goes beyond simply my love for the NHL.  It involves the shared love and passion my wife Emily and I have developed for the sport, a love and passion that is woven in to the very fabric of our relationship.  To wit, four of our first five dates involved NHL hockey games.  Last month we drove to Rosemount in the height of Chicago rush hour traffic to watch a charity hockey game put on by the Blackhawks.  Those facts alone should give some insight to the depth of our commitment but there is more…much, much, more.

When we get a massive snow storm in Chicago most people worry about getting home from work and shoveling their driveway.  Emily’s first thought is that we can probably get a really good price on lower bowl seats at the United Center (she’s 100% right by the way). 

We spent the run-up to our late May wedding more concerned about a Pens/Hawks Stanley Cup final match-up (aka DOOM), then of wedding costs, bad weather or a catering mishap.  We were introduced as a new couple to the Penguins, “Boys of Winter” theme song and we danced to Chelsea Dagger during the ceremony.  Hockey memorabilia was everywhere.

My wife made it a point to purchase two tickets to a March 2009 game at the Igloo so I/we could make one last pilgrimage before they tore down the beloved old barn.  She suggested a weekend road trip to St. Louis so we could see the Haws and Pens both play (and lose to) the Blues on consecutive nights.  Heck she even planned a trip from Orlando to Tampa during our week at Disney just so we could root against the Eastern Pennsylvania Orange and Black Goon Squad.

We have all four episodes of 24/7 Penguins-Capitals on our DVR plus the entire catalog of Blackhawks’ TV episodes.  We have the 2009 and 2010 cup clinching victories for both the Pens and Hawks preserved as well.  These programs have been watched more times than I can remember, most often at Emily’s behest.

Our relationship goes 1,000 levels deeper than hockey and will survive and thrive with or without the NHL.  It does not change the fact that the NHL is an enormous part of our life together, more so than I can do justice to in this forum.  The league and the PA are not just taking hockey away from me or from her.  They are taking it away from us.  It’s yet another element of emotional collateral damage that the billionaires and millionaires ignore while fighting over slices of an enormous pie.

It breaks my heart when Emily laments that her love and passion for the game may be irreparably damaged by this ignorant dispute.  Keep in mind this is coming from a woman who went by herself to watch Blackhawk’s prospect camp this summer, proudly clad in her Antii Niemi jersey.

Certainly I understand and empathize with her disposition which rest assured did not develop overnight.  It started with the cancellation of the Blackhawks Training Camp festival and the associated 5K run.  It continued with the cancellation of the Penguins/Hawks game in November.  It crystalized when for the first time in our relationship we did not see a hockey game in Pittsburgh over thanksgiving.  And there have been countless wasted nights watching reruns of Friends that would otherwise be devoted to the Pens or Hawks.

No matter how much they claim otherwise, Gary Betteman, Don Fehr, and everyone else involved in this moronic conflict do not comprehend the depth of this emotional collateral damage.  They are blind beyond the economics and their selfish need to get the best deal for their side; when a good deal is more than good enough. 

I can accept that Fehr is a hired gun who ultimately could care less about the NHL.  The owners and more so the players however are stunningly ignorant to the reality that their sport and thus their livelihoods rely on the fragile emotional bonds they create with their fans.  Destroy those bonds and the NHL, at least in the United States, could just as soon be Arena Football, nothing more than a winter diversion for parents and their kids. 

It is solely the willing desire of fans to fully vest themselves, emotionally and financially, that allows everyone involved to make the money they do.  Remove that and Jonathan Toews is selling insurance and playing pond hockey in Winnipeg.  No matter how much they claim otherwise, no matter how much they thank us or appear to sympathize with our plight, nobody involved in this dispute truly gets that. 

The NHL and the NHLPA are arrogantly assuming they can survive a second cancelled season if it comes to that.  Their arrogance is rooted in the incorrect assumption that hockey fans are too devoted and passionate about their sport to walk away.  And they could not be more wrong. 

Even the strongest bonds can be broken if enough force is applied.  The same intense devotion and passion that hockey fans are known for could be the explosive instrument that destroys those bonds, if the league is foolish enough to shut down for another season.  There is NOTHING more dangerous in this world than a jilted lover.  Ask Major League Baseball (1995 to 1997) what happens when you overly abuse the trust of your paying customers.  And the NHL today is nowhere near as strong as baseball was when Don Fehr was involved in cancelling the World Series.

I hope both sides wake up to this reality in time to save the season and their sport.  For the first time I’m concerned they may not.

Charlie Batch’s Moment in the Sun

When I think about the greatest wins in recent Steeler history, excluding championships of course, almost every one of them is against the Baltimore Ravens.

There is nothing more fulfilling for a sports fan than a critical victory over a hated rival. Check that…a despised rival. With all due respect (or lack thereof) to New England, Dallas, Cincinnati and Cleveland there is simply no Steelers’ opponent that generates the visceral hatred of the Ravens. And I would have said that before my wife and I endured three horrific hours of emotional debauchery at M&T Stadium last September.

Think about those Steeler victories that make you pound your chest with pride at being part of the Steeler Nation. They are ALMOST ALWAYS against the Rat Birds and frequently in Baltimore. Remember the 92 yard drive and last second Santonio touchdown in 2008? How about the Polamalu strip sack of Flacco in 2010? There are also two recent classics at Heinz Field, the 2008 AFC Championship game and the 2010 divisional playoff comeback victory

“Greatest wins” of course is an extremely subjective measurement. So I use extremely unscientific qualifications for such a designation. How stressed am I during the game? How many times do I throw objects (thank you Limas Sweed) or bang my head off solid objects? How much am I dancing around my condo, pumping my fists and screaming (much to the dismay of Chicago’s West Loop) after the victory?

My wife (and Mike Tomlin) likes to say “a win is a win.” Statistically she is 100% right. And yet there are some wins that are just bigger, that just mean more.

Well we can officially add classic victory in Baltimore to the list.

This one will be remembered as “the Charlie Batch” game. The night the Steelers staggered in to Baltimore and pulled out a phenomenal, season saving victory over the Rat Birds. They did so not only without their star quarterback but with their third stringer as recently as two weeks ago. They did it with a QB who much of Steeler national irrationally and over zealously wrote off after last week’s ugly loss.

The only thing better than this highly improbable victory is the redemption story that came with it. Charlie Batch may never end up in Canton but he’s truly one of the classiest professionals to ever wear the black and gold. The man is the ultimate team player and the prototypical “Pittsburgh guy.” He has not played a lot during his Steeler career but with the notable exception of last weekend has almost always played well when called upon. He deserved MUCH better than to have his Steeler career end on that debacle in Cleveland.

I’m a Steeler fan which means I root for the logo more than I do the names on the back of the jersey. And yet I’ll be the first to admit I’m almost as happy for Batch as I am for the black and gold as a whole.

Let me start off by saying that I don’t think Batch should be the team’s number 3 QB. There is zero doubt in my mind that he gives the Steelers a better chance to win then Byron Leftwich. I made this point repeatedly at Heinz Field two weeks ago as Leftwich limped and gimped through a disappointing loss. I endorsed Batch to be the starter during Ben’s suspension two years ago and have never backed off my contention that he should be the number 2 QB. I simply do not get the coaching staff’s infatuation with Lord Byron whose throwing wind-up is an eerie combination of Major Harris and Bugs Bunny.

That said, Batch was the third quarterback. That means for the better part of eleven weeks he did not take a meaningful snap in practice. In today’s NFL the back-up QB rarely gets practice reps let alone the third QB. So after eleven weeks of inactivity Batch has to start in Cleveland. The Steelers employ a conservative game plan and the team’s running backs respond by fumbling an incredible six time. Let me say that again…six times. On top of which Batch had a 30 plus yard completion to Heath Miller early in the second half of that game that was wiped out by a holding penalty.

I’m not saying Batch played great against the Browns, he clearly did not. At the same time, the overreaction from fans and media was staggering. Batch plays one subpar game, with all the obstacles I noted above and suddenly he is washed up and done? I’m sorry but that’s not a fair evaluation. My honest opinion is that if the Steelers simply hold on to the ball against the Browns they win that game easily and Batch is not being bitch slapped by Rodney Harrison on national TV.

Regardless, it is what it is. The team played awful and Batch was part of it. It was a game they needed very much to win and did not. It was a truly ugly loss in every way.

Of course one of the reasons we considered it a must win game was we all assumed that a victory in Baltimore without Big Ben would be impossible. If the last two weeks, and for that matter this entire bizarre Steeler season has taught us anything it’s that nothing is a given in the NFL. I’ve always thought the “any given Sunday” mantra was a little hokey and overplayed. At the same time I will not deny that at this level, crazy things can and do happen.

I doubt even the most optimistic Steeler fan would have predicted this outcome before kick-off, or even at half-time.

The Steelers simply would not have prevailed without Batch’s strong performance. It was pretty obvious that Baltimore was playing 8 in the box all night to shut down the run. Cleveland did the same thing last week. The Steelers right now do not have elite running backs. Neither Dwyer nor Redman is good enough to succeed consistently driving head on in to eight man fronts.

This game changed when the coaches took the handcuffs of Batch and let him throw the ball. And to their credit they continued to show confidence even when he made a few obviously bad throws. Yes the overthrow of Wallace in the end zone was awful. So were about ten of Drew Brees’ throws on Thursday night in Atlanta. If Ryan Lindley is your third string QB maybe you bail on throwing; with Charlie Batch you let him make plays.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Batch was far from the only reason the Steelers won this game. I could easily devote an entire blog to the brilliant work of the coaching staff and the strong performances of James Harrison, Heath Miller, the offensive line and the defensive backs. Shaun Suisham deserves a major tip of the cap for yet another clutch kicking performance. I could also lament the latest implosion by Emmanuel Sanders and the continued disappointing efforts from Mike Wallace and Drew Butler.

Alas, those are stories for another day or another blog. To me the story of this game first and foremost was Charlie Batch.

This was his defining performance in a Steeler uniform, one we should never forget. It could not have come at a bigger time, could not have happened to a better guy. The victory provided some desperately needed confidence and momentum to a struggling team. And while their playoff hopes likely rest on the Cincinnati rematch, the game provided some critical breathing room.

With father time advancing and Big Ben hopefully returning this very well might be Charlie Batch’s final appearance as a Steeler. If so it was one heck of a curtain call; a deserving swan song for a true class act.

NHL Lays its Cards on the Table

The NHL has reportedly presented a new CBA proposal to its players, offering a 50/50 split of hockey related revenues with no rollbacks on current contracts. The offer also drops many of the pie in the sky extraneous demands from the original proposal, most of which had little or no chance of ever coming to fruition.

In short, the NHL has put its cards on the table. The league has advanced the deal it was probably trying to get from day one.

I have always believed the 50/50 split of revenues was the owners’ end game. Most of what they included in their first proposal; including dropping the players share of revenues to 43% was a smoke screen intended only to create the range of negotiation. If you do the math; the average of 57% of hockey related revenue (what the players get now) and the 43% the owners originally “offered” is 50%. I doubt that’s a coincidence.

The league’s negotiating tact was no different than you or me offering $250,000 for a house listed at $300,000 with the hopes of meeting in the middle at $275,000. Sometimes that strategy works, sometimes it does not. It all depends on the resolve of the seller and/or whether they see through the smoke screen.

Of course as my real estate agent warned me back in 2003, there is also the risk of insulting the seller with too low of an offer. If that happens the situation becomes emotional; and emotion can be a powerful deterrent to getting a deal done.

Therein lies the problem with the owners’ original strategy. They created so much animosity with their first offer that the players walked away in a huff, refusing to make anything more than cursory counter proposals. As my old JV soccer coach Joe Findlay used to say, the idea was solid, the execution was poor. The owners could have accomplished the same goal with a more reasonable starting offer.

Regardless of the reason, the owners seem to have come to grips with that reality and definitively changed their strategy.  They have scrapped the dog and pony show negotiation process which requires both sides to slowly move to the middle.  They have done what so many pundits said they had to do; backed down from their hard line stance for the betterment of the league.

Now the question will the players do the same? Will they understand that the 50/50 split was the goal all the time and that the owners have simply moved up the time table for presenting it? In short, will they take a very solid offer, make a tweak or two where necessary and lace up their skates.

Or will they see this proposal as a sign of weakness and push aggressively for additional concessions?  Will they simply see this offer as the real "starting point" for negotiations to paraphrase Fehr?

Take the former approach and we will have hockey in early November. Do that latter and the BEST CASE scenario becomes last year’s NBA; a shortened season starting around Christmas. The worst case, nuclear option is a repeat of 2004-05; which means no hockey. The reality is likely somewhere in the middle.

So again I ask, where do the players go from here?

I simply do not see the owners moving too far off this offer.  The players must now come to them.  I have read articles suggesting anywhere from 18 to 25 NHL teams are in the red, some because of the revenue sharing dollars they are already required to pay. The NHL today may not be the economic calamity it was in 2005 but there are still very real financial problems.  The salary cap was a starting point solution.  Now the cap figure must be adjusted to a number that makes sense.

I remain SHOCKED at the amount of support the players have gotten from fans in this lockout. They are earning unprecedented salaries even as most of the teams are losing money because the salary cap REQUIRES them to pay 57% of revenue. More than that, fans typically refuse to accept the perceived trials and tribulations of millionaire athletes, even when we are not coming off the worst economic collapse since original Ottawa Senators were hoisting Stanley Cups in the roaring 20s.

In spite of this, public reaction to date has been shockingly pro- player; shocking given that most of us would donate a kidney to make 10% of what Shea Webber earns…to play a game.  I'm willing to bit some portion of it relates directly to the general hockey populace's extreme distaste (however misplaced) for Gary Betteman.

If the players reject this offer, which figures to be the best one they see in the near future, I believe the tide of public opinion will turn decisively against them. My impression is that most people believe a 50/50 split is the right deal, especially if it comes without rollbacks on existing contracts. Delay the season further simply because the all-powerful Fehr thinks they can extract more blood from the NHL stone and I assure you the players will resume their typical role as the perceived villans in CBA negotiations.  

To that end this proposal, for whatever reason they made it, is a brilliant strategic move by the owners. The risk of course is putting their best offer on the table now, before the PA moves closer to meeting in the middle. The reward is shifting perception of blame for the labor stoppage squarely to the players. My guess is this was intentional; given the included carrot of an 82 game schedule and the recent hiring of a political strategist. Even if it was accidental, my conclusion remains the same.

I doubt Fehr much cares about public perception but his employees very well might. Reject this offer and the Shawn Horcroff’s of the world might encounter a bit more backlash when they lament the reduction of their 6 Million dollar fully guaranteed annual salary.

While I do favor small rollbacks from the players, the reality is this deal can likely be made without them. The projected cap range at 57% of HRR was $54.4 Million to $70.4 Million. Taking the league’s oft publicized $3.3 Billion revenue figure, I estimate the cap at 50% of HRR at being between $46.7 and $62.7 Million. That’s a much more livable figure for the current NHL.

According to CapGeek.com, 17 teams are currently below that $62.7 Million payroll figure and 7 more are less than $2 Million above it. That means that for the most part teams can get to the new cap number without rollbacks. Yes it will create a cap crunch for most teams over the next two seasons but so be it. The NFL basically did the same thing this year which is why Mike Wallace is still living on the paltry sum of $2.7 Million per annum. The main point is the league will have an economic model that makes sense in the long-term. And rest assured there will be some mechanism to phase this in such that Boston does not have to drop $6 Million in cap obligations over the next two weeks.

The next move is up to Fehr and the players. I sincerely hope they do what’s in the best interest of the game and work with the model presented. Fehr’s first statement (“this is a good start”) not to mention his track record and the NHLPA’s badly misplaced anger are ominous signs but not unexpected. The question at this point is not what they say, it’s what they do.

Blogging Team Seto and the 2012 Chicago Marathon

After nearly 9 months of hard core training, my wife Emily lined up for her first ever marathon this morning.

After virtually no relevant training, I lined up for my first roving spectator role at a marathon. My somewhat ambitious goal, to cheer my wife at six different spots over 26.2 miles. The plan was carefully orchestrated and logistically sound though ripe with uncertainty. A heartfelt thanks to Shawn Johnson for some excellent viewing suggestions.

Anyway, it turned out to be quite an experience, well worthy of my first, Bill Simmons’ style time line recap blog in several years . Before I start let me say what absolutely MUST be said. My sincerest congratulations to all of the runners and ESPECIALLY my wife. What all of these folks did today is simply incredible. I’m beat down and physically exhausted from my day and I did not do 1% of what these amazing athletes did. My wife and all 37,000+ finishers should be VERY, VERY PROUD of this mammoth accomplishment!

With that my recap.  All times central standard and slightly estimated:

6:00 am (sharp) – Alarm goes off…snooze.

6:05 am – Alarm goes off…awake, for real.

6:15 am – I drop off Emily at the Green Line and the day is underway. Morning temperature is a balmy 38 degrees.

6:17 am – I return to the Green Line stop to return some lost equipment that fell out of Emily’s bag in the car. First and only potential crisis of the day successfully averted.

7:30 am – I post the following video on Facebook to motivate my hockey fanatic wife (yes, we did watch Miracle for motivation on Friday night). The post is accompanied by these famous words from U.S. Olympic hockey coach Herb Brooks (as voiced by Kurt Russell); “This cannot be a team of common (wo)men; because common (wo)men go nowhere. You have to be UNCOMMON. Should any of you choose to view this inspirational video, rest assured I am ABSOLUTELY NOT calling my wife a Candy Ass!

8:00 am – The first leg of my personal journey, a 1 mile walk to the red line at State and Lake. This is accompanied by my first attempt to cross a street that is part of the course. For comparison, this is sort of like playing the old Frogger arcade game except here you only get one guy.

8:25 am - There is a train waiting when I arrive at State and Lake although I’m not sure if it’s going the right direction. Given my natural danger seeker instincts I jump on anyway, risking life, limb, and going 500 feet the wrong direction. Turns out I’m on the right train and a shockingly unexpected trend for the day has emerged; spectacular CTA timing.

8:35 am – Off the red line at Chicago Avenue, waiting for Emily at LaSalle and Chestnut.

8:45 am – As an aside, I should mention that I’m wearing my black and gold Steeler sweatshirt ONLY to make me more visible to Emily (at least that’s what I tell people). I’m also using the Terrible Towel ONLY so that Emily can easily spot me as she runs by (at least that’s what I tell people). While I’m waiting for Emily 11 runners, again 11 MARATHON runners, allocate a portion of their scarce energy reserves to scream “LET’S GO STEELERS” or something to that effect. That’s why they call it the Steeler NATION folks. We’re like a cult!

8:55 am – Emily runs by and hands over her gloves and hat as the temperatures are souring to over 45 degrees. We’re 3.5 miles in and she’s looking strong.

9:00 am – Back to the red line. I hate to be cruel but there is a foul smelling gentleman at the underground stop who is screaming epitaphs at himself and apparently swatting at imaginary bugs. Ahhh…the city.

9:15 am – Off the red line at Clark and Fullerton. As I hit the street I encounter three people wearing Philadelphia Phillies outfits. Perhaps because the Steelers and Eagles play today or maybe just because Philly and Pittsburgh fans hate each other, they all scowl at me. I’d survive either way but I’ll have my revenge by day’s end thanks to Shaun Suisham.

9:35 am – Waiting for Emily at Clark and Deming (just north of Fullerton), about 50 feet from the apartment building I lived in my first seven years in Chicago. Amazingly during that time I never once viewed the marathon. Like any of you were out of bed at 9:00 am in your 20s…

9:45 am – The Superfriends run by…Batman, Robin, Superman, the Hulk and I believe Wonder Woman. I find myself actually contemplating the question of why Superman is not closer to the lead. You know…because he’s SUPERMAN and all. I also see a gentleman who proudly proclaims himself as “Gay Eagle Scout.” Make of that whatever you want.

9:55 am – Emily runs by mile 9.2 looking powerful and in control. She would call this coincidental but I cannot help noting that my wife is clad in red (jacket) and black (pants), the exact colors of her beloved Chicago Blackhawks. By the way five more “Go Steelers!” screams including one from a guy dressed…in a Steeler outfit. He even admonishes me for not waving the towel. HERE WE GO !!!

10:10 am – After a quick check of the CTA’s first and only proactive modern invention, the internet bus tracker reveals no stops for the Halsted bus. I assume I will be taking a cab to Greektown. Astoundingly as I arrive at Halsted and Fullerton there is a Halsted bus waiting at the stop. Yet another logistical touchdown. Here’s something to ponder, is the bus tracker really such a great invention if it provides completely inaccurate information? Ladies and gentlemen, your Chicago Transit Authority.

10:30 am – Arrive at my building and then a quick walk to Halsted and Adams in Greektown.

10:45 am – The most disturbing site of the day, a tall shirtless gentleman with man boobs that are hopping around like they’re in a food processor. Amazingly women are not permitted to be topless in public but this abomination is perfectly legal behavior in our society.

10:50 am – The women standing next to me complains about an awful, sewage smell emanating from the ground. In a shaky attempt at humor I apologize for not showering this morning (almost as if I’m assuming my brother’s role in this dialogue). Her response, “go figure you’re from Pittsburgh.” BAM…POW. That hurt.

10:55 am – A runner detours course to inquire if he’s seen me earlier on the course. Its official, the crazy guy in the Steeler sweatshirt (at the CHICAGO Marathon) has been recognized.

10:56 am – Emily comes by with the Sears Tower (or Big Willie or whatever) appearing majestically behind her in the background. We’re half way home and she looks fantastic. Oh and five more Steeler yells.

11:00 am – Sandwich break at Halsted and Jackson. There is a part of me that thinks eating a sandwich while watching people endure a marathon is kind of ignorant; but that part grudgingly defers to my growling stomach.

11:25 am (ish) – Here comes Emily again, this time from the west and she still looks like a running machine. She plants a big sloppy wet kiss on me as she runs by. Too much information for the tender sensibilities of my dear readers? DEAL WITH IT. The woman ran 26.2 miles today. I also assume there are 50 or more Steeler yells but they are obscured by loud (and in one case shockingly inappropriate) music.

11:45 am – I head to the Eisenhower to jump on the blue line for a two train connection to Chinatown. As I’m rushing down the extended ramp to the stop (which is in the center of the aforementioned expressway), I see a train has arrived. I start running. Then my jeans start falling down. So I grab my pants to hold them up and nearly trip in the process; all while one of Chicago’s finest admonishes me to be careful. Thankfully nobody saw this potentially humiliating moment. Of course MILLIONS will likely read about it in this blog.

12:00 noon – PERFECT red line transfer at Jackson. Why can’t I have this kind of train luck on work days?

12:30 pm – Arrival in Chinatown.

12:35 pm – Here comes Emily. She’s 22 miles in and still firing on all cylinders. Amazingly this is the first time all day I start to mentally acknowledge how incredible all these runners are…and how they are all certifiably nuts!

12:45 pm – ANOTHER perfect red line transfer. Train is waiting at the top of the steps. If it were not Sunday and I was not scampering all over Chicago I would buy a few lottery tickets.

1:00 pm – My first and only mistake of the day. I hop off the red at Roosevelt and ATTEMPT to fly south on Michigan avenue. The folks in front of me compared our efforts to salmon swimming up-stream. I would say it was more like salmon swimming, up-rapids.

1:20 pm – I complete the two block walk…up rapids mostly no worse for wear.

1:25 pm – Here comes Emily with the finish line in site. She looks so strong you would think this was just a short stroll in the park for her. After yet another kiss, I run ahead of her and take the picture below. Who knew the marathon would give me so many chances to make out with my wife???

1:35 pm – An official marathon text alert informs me my wife has completed the Chicago marathon. WAY TO GO EM !!!

2:00 pm – I walk over a mile to meet Emily at “runner reunite.” I know you all have great sympathy for my hardship; what with 37,000+ other runners around me who ran 26.2 miles AND THEN had to walk that extra mile.

2:05 pm – Reunited with far and away the best athlete in my household!

2:15 pm – One last time, we grab a bus perfectly on time. Given that my wife is a trifle sore from her endeavors, this is a tremendous bit of final fortune.

5;30 pm – Through the magic of the digital video recorder I watch Suisham’s game winning field goal sink Philly and save the Steelers’ season. Totally irrelevant to the marathon but…I gotta be me.

The final tally

Emily – 26.2 Miles, 5 hours 27 minutes and one completed marathon. I could not be more proud of my wife who worked harder than you will ever know to accomplish this life-long goal. Not just the 9 months of training but many, many nights of stretching and rehab as well. I’ll keep the specifics private but will disclose that my wife ran today’s marathon with injuries that would have kept me from walking to the kitchen. No question who is the toughest person in our household.

Adam – 3.5 miles walked (or speed walked) 4 trips on the red line, 1 blue line, and 2 bus trips to reach 6 viewing destinations and the finish line on the course. Unofficially 16 kisses from my wife.

Fans yelling – “GO STEELERS” or something of comparable nature – At least 25.