Snowman On Fire

One of our youth hockey coaches likes to tell the kids to pick simple goals for each year: Don’t worry about the league playoffs, or Districts, or scoring 20 goals, but instead pick some simple things on which to build. Skating speed, slap shots, giving and receiving body checks, defensive positioning, thinking about first and second options with the puck are all simple things that can be improved from game to game, and measured over the course of a season.

I have no idea what transpired between the Penguin guano coating and last night’s Phantastic Philadelphia Phlogging, but it worked. Maybe it was the “get in shape” ride; maybe it was Sutter asserting that he’s in charge and half-efforts won’t be tolerated; maybe it was the re-emergence of Jamie Langenbrunner and Colin White at the rink. The turning point in last night’s game was simple enough: After the first Flyers power play goal, the Devils stepped it up instead of shrinking back into dump and chase mode. On both of Zubrus’ goals, he was clogging up the middle, in front of the crease, rather than attempting creativity from behind the net. Simple things. The defense looked good, moving the puck out of the defensive zone and forcing traffic in front by getting shots toward the net. I’ll miss Olli and Big Bird-like defensive qualities, but I have to admit Rachunek gave me reason to wave my Czech flag a bit.

With the season just about at the one-fifth mark, there are many simple goals the Devils can set for the year. Making the playoffs should be first and foremost, most likely requiring 95 points to finish mid-conference. Doing so means tacking on 81 points from here, or about 1.2 points a game on average. That translates to roughly 35-21-11, technically close to 0.500 hockey if you count overtime losses and shoot out shoot downs the same as regulation dings. I’d love to see at least one line that terrifies opponents. Could be this congeals after Langenbrunner is back, could be that Madden and Pandolfo continue with some newly found help from the Lithuanian freight train. And finally, no further G-mez goals in the next six Hudson Summits.

I’m a week late with additional Rock thoughts, and why I’m shocked at the behavior of Toronto fan boys, but the real world, and work, intervened.

Last night Bubba and I went to the Leafs-Devils game and got to enjoy life behind the goal line, deep in section 13. We’ve shared these tickets with a group of about six guys for the past four years, and the move to the Rock presented some interesting challenges. Instead of four seats, the group only took two; instead of our usual spot three rows back but behind the left goal post we were moved to the corner to stay in the same price range. The new seats are just as good, view-wise, as the ones in the CAA, and I honestly can’t see why we would have paid more than double the per-seat price to sit one row closer to the ice. Think about it: the first two rows are “black seats”, $150 season ticket holder, $200 face value, if you go back to row 3 that goes down to $98/$115. There’s some microeconomic formula about elasticity of demand, total revenue yield equal to price times quantity sold, and margin of unsold inventory being fixed, but there’s a simple explanation: the pricing scheme doesn’t make sense for season ticket holders. That said, the first two rows of our section were full (more on this next entry) while we were the only two people in our row for most of the game.

After thoroughly rocking out on my first trip to Newark, I was eager to bring Bubba and get his teenaged impressions. He’s at that age where few things are new and interesting; he’s been to dozens of hockey games and has seen the inside of several new arenas and ballparks. He was also blown away; it’s the first time he’s asked to stop on the concourse and look at something (the equivalent of being pulled aside to read the fine print on a museum display). And we stopped on the main concourse, and then walked around the upper concourse as well. The Rock is an attraction for hockey fans, pure and simple. I think I could spend another three or four intermissions walking around before I felt that I’d seen most of the visuals it offers.

For me, the entire experience has to play well, not just the physical building and the team. So here are some more thoughts on the Prudential Center (somehow, I am going to have trouble calling it that; it sounds as silly as the “TD North BankCenter”, formerly known as the Bah-stahn Gah-den). In something resembling order of importance:

Security: Attention, Lou and Jeff: Getting into your new building is a huge pain in the rear end. I don’t mind being wanded down, and I appreciate the security at the entrances, but add some capacity here. Wednesday night, with maybe 9,000 fans there, it wasn’t an issue, but last night with reported and actual bodies closer to 14,000, it took us longer to get into the Rock than it did to get from Livingston to the parking garage. Half of the doors had no screeners, and some of the lines moved twice as slowly as others. Train these folks, get some more of them, and then get the outside security people to talk to each other. After standing at the north tower for a while, we were told to go to the south tower because there was “no line”. By the time we walked the length of the building, the south tower line was longer than what we’d just departed. Bad move.

Box Office: It appears the only box office windows are inside the towers, past security. Duh. I saw a group of about five guys look at the line, and then leave. Pretty much assured they won’t be back as fans. If you want walk-up, game-day fans, then you have to make the experience of getting a ticket as simple as possible. Follow the lead of Camden Yards and PacBell (ATT SBC MaBell WhatEver) Park, and put a ticket kiosk outside of the perimeter. It works.

Food: I’m in trouble this year. Big trouble. At CAA my game-day diet consisted of chicken fingers and Carvel, with a pretzel thrown in for good measure. So far I’ve had the Premio sausage (at the 7 City Grill, but not at the Premio Sausage cart because they had no food), and a chicken cheese steak. Both were reasonably priced and good. Bubba and I also ran into David Brummer, Livingston guy around town who has owned a deli in Newark for years, and has his own food service on the upper concourse in “Taste of Newark.” Bonus points for being authentic. We passed what looked like some good barbeque, and we saw at least one health-conscious fan (I’m generalizing; people who cast shadows that look like they came out of the xkcd comic I generally refer to as health-conscious) stop by the panini cart. I’m going to have a field day checking out the olfactory and culinary delights of the rink. Two requests: it would be great if the menus of similarly-named places were consistent, so that I could get the same thing at the same named place independent of concourse location (this isn’t the case), and there need to be more pretzel stands. I counted two spots where you could get a hot pretzel, and one ran out in the 2nd intermission. Oof.

Parking: I’ll admit it, I expected this to be a disaster. Last night was the true experiment, as we had a ticket for a Yellow area garage, not a Green open air lot. Getting in was remarkably simple; from car to gate was 3 minutes. Getting out, the line stretched through the garage and almost to the intersection of Commerce and Mulberry. There were a good 200 people in line in front of us; I phoned home and gave warning that we’d be an hour. Total time to wait in line and have the car brought up: under fifteen minutes. It was impressive, as I’ve waited longer than that at Johnny’s Official NHL Lot in NYC during the weekday rush hour, when I’m third in line. Really efficient, and a great wrap to a great game.

More on Toronto fans, why the dasherboard sign should read “Swedish Vish” (for Vitaly and Olli, even though O is Finnish), if there’s hope for Johnny Oduya, and the Devils power play later — I’m late for youth hockey.

Went to my first game at the Rock last night, and all I can say is “wow.” This is a building meant for hockey, it’s a building that is a delight in which to see a game, and to enjoy yourself between periods of the game. The Devils christened it properly with a 6-1 drubbing of the Lightning. How else to summarize except to point out that Jay Pandolfo, the hardest working defensive winger in the NHL, recorded his first career hat trick tonight? It was a fitting conclusion, especially since the goal was originally credited to Vishnevski (and I was screaming “Cousin!! Cousin!!” from deep in Section 21), and I can only imagine what a collection of Halloween headgear would have accumulated on the ice. On the other hand, it’s the Devils’ new den, so some scary helmets are most appropriate.

About the Rock:

From the huge logo on the floor of the entry tower, to the three-times larger than life Patrik Elias, the high school and college jerseys dotting the concourse to the murals and bits of Devils history, it’s clear you’re in a hockey arena, and one that was designed by, for and about the Devils. The only other rink that gives me that feeling is Princeton University’s Baker Rink, because it’s not about the merchandising of the game but rather the game (and team) itself. I’m not going to mind walking 4 blocks in the freezing cold, even if it’s raining or snowing, knowing what’s ahead. There is simply no comparison to any other NHL rink, because this one isn’t shared with any other team. You know the feeling you get when you come home for Thanksgiving? Imagine that 41 times a season.

Some of our ticket group buddies who went opening night told pre-Halloween horror stories about getting in and out of Newark due to construction, congestion and confusion. Using the Prudential Center parking maps off of the Devils web site, coupled with a little Googling, we were fine. The trick is to stay off of Route 21 and use Broad, Market and Raymond. Coming in off of I-280 East, take the 1st Street exit and avoid the entire Stickle Bridge construction mishegas.

Total time from Livingston to Green lot: 20 minutes. From lot to seats: 10 minutes, down a very well lit Mulberry Street. From lot back to Livingston: 25 minutes. It sometimes took that long to get out of the parking lot at Giants stadium, after waiting and standing on a bus for 10 minutes. The police were helpful, the parking lot attendants gave reasonable directions, and it was a much better travel experience than I had expected. Leaving the arena, going north on Broad Street, the police metered the traffic out of the lots, the side streets and into the 4 travel lanes on Broad to avoid backups. Cont-izod-al Arena traffic control had 25 years to work this out, and failed.

The only negative of the night (besides Oduya, but I’m foreshadowing): check out Section 118. I took that picture near the end of the first period, and there were literally five people in the entire mid-tier section. The announced attendance stood a bit north of 13,000; the capacity is over 17,000. Sure, it was Halloween, and the Devils have yet to start truly carving out their own piece of the Rock, but I’ll bet there were scantily over 17,000 butt cheeks in seats tonight. Lou must get more local support — not just $10 student tickets, but filling up the upper and end sections at a good price. If you didn’t have fun last night, you definitely were a zombie (or Tampa Bay’s Holmqvist).

About the team:

Tonight’s game was the equivalent of a coyote (one Mad Dog) pissing all over to mark its turf. The Rock has seen its first win, first hat trick, and first game by a blueliner taller than half of the Nets backcourt. I think Martin St. Louis had trouble seeing over Malmivaara’s jockstrap. We were eager to remind him of this, repeating a line from the opening sequence of “Slap Shot” perhaps a few too many times. I’m only sorry I didn’t get to hear Chico on the broadcast having a party with Olli’s pronounciation. But give the big guy his props: He may skate like Zdeno Chara, but he plays “D” like the big Bear as well, and was +2 on the night. Despite crashing into Marty while swinging the puck behind the net, he had a good opening night.

Oduya needs to work harder and just simplify his game. Standing and swinging his stick while Richards controlled the puck on the power play was the genesis of the Tampa goal: play the puck, play the body, or take away the passing lane. Can’t do all three, or try to do them, or change your mind part way through: you give up control and Richards feeds LeCavaLier (I’m going to mess up the capitalization of his name just to piss him off, Johnny Most style).

Vishnevski played well. Used the body, controlled the puck, and uncorked a bullet from the point. Even if we’re not related, he’s cool. Overall, the defense seemed to have a much better sense of where to be, and where to be going, especially in getting the puck out of the defensive zone.

Most improved award: Zubrus. He controlled the puck with his size, since he has little speed. Instead of getting caught behind the net and turning the puck over, he bulled through, finding Madden for a nice goal which Zubrus essentially manufactured out of hard work and tenacity.

On top of everything else, Brodeur looked very good — solid glove work, rolling over to block the upper part of the net when down on the ice, great lateral movement.

Supposedly the Devils ran head to head sprints in practice. Here’s my take on how the bottom of the order worked out:
1. Malmivaara. Number of letters in his jersey and overall wind resistance slow him down.
2. Brookbank. Slow but thoughtful. If he was in your English class you’d love when the teacher called on him, because he’d spend the rest of the period saying something surface-level deep, but articulated so slowly the bell rang before you realized he hadn’t read the book either.
3. Me, going at full speed with no possibility of stopping, after a good 8 or 9 stroke acceleration. And I’m the one the Friday night gang nicknamed “Slow White.”
4. The Oreo mascot, who sometimes gets to play in the “all mascot” halftime game at Princeton University basketball games. Unfortunately, he has no mascot arms, limiting his ability to play offense or balance on skates.
5. Zubrus. He’s that slow, but if he’s going to play positional hockey, use his size and his head, he can plod to his heart’s content, and I’ll even give him my spot in the speed rankings. He earned it.

It’s been a few days since Joe Torre’s implicit dismissal as the Yankee skipper, coming full circle with Joe Girardi’s filling the managerial jersey today. I’m still flabbergasted by this move: Torre was micro-managed from above (like he couldn’t figure out how to pitch Joba Chamberlain himself?), was given horrible resources to manage (his pitchers either sucked or were ancient or both, with the exception of Chamerblain), and had to deal with the media circus known as Alex Rodriguez. And he made the playoffs, again, as he did every single year he was in the Bronx. Normally I’m not a big LA fan, but go get’em Joe, and return some of that Dodger blue pride to the La-la-valley.

Then there’s A-Rod. The picture says it all — I snapped this one coming out of the Hynes/Convention Center “T” stop on the Green Line in Boston, halfway between the hub of the universe and Fenway Park, the true heliocentric point for the sun shining on Red Sox Nation. Why would the Sox want A-Rod? They actually won two World Series titles without him, and seeing how much Rodriguez failed to contribute in terms of baseball performance or on-field leadership, he’d only reverse the winning curve again. What on earth are A-Rod and Scott Boras thinking? That fans stop caring after the last regular season game? That someone who shelled out thousands of dollars on season tickets, and then doubled down for the playoffs, is going to think it’s fair that their signature player checks out for the postseason? The Yankees offered him more than he’s worth, which isn’t atypical, but somehow Boras thinks A-Rod can get more money for more years somewhere else. Loyalty, anyone? What difference will $3-5 million a year make for Rodriguez? Please don’t tell me it’s about the money, or providing for his future after baseball. It’s not about loyalty. Maybe it’s about where A-Rod thinks he can chase Barry Bonds’ record, and he’s shopping for a ballpark, not a team. That I could understand because it fits his public persona so well.

In the warped universe where I’m a baseball GM, here’s how I’d sign Rodriguez: give him a nice base above where the Yankees pitched, but with a negative performance option: Miss the playoffs, and he’ll forfeit the amount that would have been paid by season ticket holders for the divisional and league championship series home games. Get knocked out in the division series, and forgo the LCS home season ticket holder revenue. If you average out to 3.5 home games, $100 a ticket, and 15,000 season ticket holders, that’s $5.25 million a round. And that money would go directly back to the season ticket holders (if the team signed him it clearly had the cash to spare, all I’d be doing is redistributing it to the people who really lose when someone isn’t a team player.