Snowman On Fire

Bubba and I went to the Devils-Rangers game on Sunday, our first game together since January. Aside from the obvious - Devils beat the Rangers for the first and only time this season, Devils snap a 7-game losing streak against the Blue Meanies, Elias wins the game in fine style - there were a ton of little things that made the afternoon great. Most of all, though, the entire past season is not prelude to the playoffs, it’s more like the safety video on the airplane. It’s there, you have to acknowledge it, but now that it’s over the real fun begins. What happened between October and March - the highlights, the lowlights, the wonderful goals and the defensive breakdowns of Tacoma Narrows Bridge proportions is literally ancient history. It’s the second season, and we watched the Devils lay down the smelly hockey glove for a first-round brawl.

Highlights from Sunday’s trip to the Rock:

We visited Bubba’s jersey hanging outside of Section 121, in person, and got a good laugh. If you look through the men’s room sign you can spot the little snowman on the sleeve. It seemed appropriate for the quantity of bathroom humor that we enjoy.

The Devils proved they can win in the clutch. Playoff hockey is about momentum: how often does a 6- or 7-seed make it deep into May while the top seeds are done in one? Sunday’s win was required and proved more than two points in the standings.

The defense was better — not great, perhaps a bit above good — but definitely better. And “Swedish Vish” decided to gap up at the most opportune times. I hope he keeps it up through the first few Rangers games, because….

Jagr skates like my friend Goggles. We call him “Goggles” because he never looks up to pass, and hasn’t seen the inside of his defensive zone since he was in high school. We saw Jagr camped on the Devils blue line or cherry picking in the neutral zone enough to question his stamina. They shouldn’t count time on ice if you’re standing in the far blue line wondering what happened to your long, flowing hair.

Gomez showed some signs of his true playoff form, namely, bad passes in large quantities. With only 16 goals on the season (vs 13 in his last season in the proper uniform), Gomez cost the Rangers about half a million dollars a goal. Think about it: you could have Scott Gomez score you a goal, or buy a nice 4-bedroom house for the same money. When the pressure is on, he folds like a tourist in the Taj card room - at the wrong time and when the stakes are higher than he thought.

As we left the Rock on Sunday, hoarse, cheering, immune to the unseasonably cold April weather, and entering our second season of joy, we had one more reason to celebrate: the Devils won every game that Bubba and I attended this year. A perfect record, for the first time since we bought a slice of season tickets in 1999 and began cheering for some kid named Elias who had a wicked wrist shot. And now we face a horrible quandry: we wore our almost-matching Elias jerseys (Czech and Russian Superleague) to every game, and the Devils delivered in every one of those games. The Devils would like us to wear red, but second season or not, I can’t counter superstition and tradition. Elias style trumps the marketing department, in Trump style and standing up under pressure.

Based on the wild acclaim for the high school jerseys displayed on the main concourse of the Rock, the NJ Devils asked the state’s youth hockey programs to send in representative jerseys as well. The result is a fabulous mosaic of the state’s youth players, from Ramapo to Vineland and everywhere in between.

What makes this even more exciting for us is that my son’s jersey is hanging right above the men’s room sign outside of Section 122. This is a distinction usually reserved for our namesake Howard Stern in south jersey rest areas. But now we have a little snowman on a small Devils away jersey marking a new favorite spot under a Rock.

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.

I’m now officially worried that the Devils organization is proceeding with complete and total oblivion to the fan base, or at least to how the fan base communicates, collaborates and exchanges ideas in the world of user-generated content and media. We’re not all sitting here waiting for the official line on ticket sales, the new arena, or Colin White’s eye; we’re reading blogs, comparing notes, and generally commenting on the (sad) state of affairs in what I had hoped would be Rock City. I don’t get a daily newspaper, but I do read 2 Man Advantage, In Lou We Trust, and Tom Gulitti’s Fire and Ice (Tom writes for the Bergen Record, covering the Devils) at least daily. I get ESPN Magazine and The Hockey News, but if I want to find out about the Devils, I read grass-roots media. And the grass roots are being stepped on.

Looking for some kind of uplift on a crummy Friday morning, I called the Devils office to see how my Power Player application was received. It was received (or so they say), but according to the woman who organizes game entertainment, the Power Player team was selected already. I can appreciate the Devils not wanting to burn an audition slot on a fat middle-aged guy who was there for humor and publicity purposes, but at least let me know that. No email, no phone call, not even a nicely printed note with a picture of someone scoring a non-existent goal. What I read into this: The Devils will do things their way, and if you have an idea, shut up and sit down in your $200 seat.

Which leads to the subject of seats. I am a member of two groups that share season tickets. My total spend for one group, which had been happily in Section 232 of the swamp for years, went up by about 25% this year. The seats are in the new lower bowl, with probably a better view, so we’re willing to try it for a season. I’m hoping that we’re actually closer to the ice surface in the Rock, and that I’m not flushing money into this bowl, but we’ll see on October 31st when I’m at my first game. The other group hasn’t gelled yet; it involved seats four rows off of the ice. I know that the group decided to cut our ticket plan in half, going for 2 seats instead of 4, mostly due to the fact that the cost per ticket has nearly doubled. Our $72 seats in East Rutherford are now $150, and while they include food — and I am never shy about eating at a game — I can’t see spending about $50 per person on chicken and soda. I know of three other season ticket holders scrambling to unload parts of their plans as well. This does not bode well for the new arena — without a strong season ticket holder base, you have a lot of premium seats without butts in them.

Which leads to the subject of ticket resale. Many teams have developed ticket resales systems where you can put your season tickets up for sale, effectively emailing them to someone else, collecting a fee for the transfer of the seats. The San Francisco Giants DoublePlay system is probably the best I’ve used, allowing me to pick up tickets the day of a game, through the Giants’ web site, through eBay or StubHub (now the same company) or directly from the ticket holder, with a simple email moving the seats to their new covers. More people will make larger commitments, earlier in the year, if they know that travel, vacation, illness, work emergencies, school plays, and unexpected dinners with the in-laws won’t lead to money scraped up by the Zamboni. Furthermore, the data collected by the teams with such a system gives you insights into how tickets move, who buys single games, what kinds of premiums are placed on various days, dates and times, and what the optimum packaging and re-packaging might be. Listening to the fans one email removed, in a way. There’s a reason the San Francisco Giants can sit in the bottom of the NL West, and still sell out nearly every game, and it’s not Barry Bonds. It’s because they truly invest in making sure their fans are loyal and having fun.

So far this season I’ve found out there’s no parking deck (yet) at the Prudential Center, I’m paying a lot more for seats without any assurances that I can easily resell tickets I might not be able to use, I’m implicitly told that my opinions as a long-term fan and strong, vocal, public free-lance writer are not worth a simple acknowledgement, and the team plays defense worse than my son’s bantam team due to lack of a reasonable signing over the summer. Perhaps this customer-last attitude works on Wall Street (I’ve certainly witnessed it, which is why I do my business with on-line brokerages only) but it’s not healthy for a franchise that depends on fans. Unlike Wall Street, there’s no money to be made in losing transactions. I would love a piece of the Rock — but don’t throw it at my head.