Under-reacting

I haven't lived in Western New York for almost six years, essentially the whole time I've been a serious hockey fan. This is, of course, unfortunate in a lot of ways. All told I have been able to see maybe a third of the games the Sabres have played over that time, and then not always with the best video quality or announcing team. I've had to sacrifice quite a bit, but what I hate missing out on the most is the connection between the team and the local community, which I think is stronger in Buffalo than just about anywhere else in the league. I was lucky enough to fully experience it briefly in 2007, when I made it home for the summer literally just in time for Drury's 7.7 second goal. I was also lucky (lucky?) enough to be one of thousands in the plaza to watch the Sabres eventually fall to the Senators in Round Three. Even though the series itself left a bad taste in my mouth, the pure electric atmosphere outside the arena on that day is something I will never forget. And it kills me to know that something like that is going on right now and I'm missing it. It's even worth putting up with snow in April if you ask me. (Especially since Minnesota seems intent on making me put up with snow in April either way.)

The problem with a community that cares as much about its sports teams as Buffalo does is that it really cares, and if there's one way in which my long distance relationship with the Sabres has been an advantage, it's this: It's been undoubtedly easier to remain positive--or at least not drown in my negative feelings. The collective voice of the Buffalo sports fan is famously one of bitterness. Our championship void somehow makes us more prone to criticize everything, whether that means nitpicking a win or overreacting to a loss. It's like we're afraid that someone will try to blame us for our teams' persistent lack of success, and so pass up no opportunity to point the finger at anyone and everyone else. I say "we," because whether he accepts or rejects it, every Buffalo sports fan (and probably every regular Buffalonian, too, for that matter) is aware of and implicated in this mentality. Not all fans react this way, but those that do somehow always find a way to make themselves heard, usually on sports talk radio, and that affects and reflects on the rest of us. This narrative is so pervasive, in fact, that even those in the "objective" local media seem to think that being relentlessly negative is telling us what we want to hear.

Which is why I'm sometimes glad that I only interact with the Sabres fanbase through blogs. For the past few years, blogs--typically written by those among the silent, sane majority--have been creating a kind of fan counterculture on the internet. Maybe it's because those are the fans who feel underrepresented in the mainstream media narrative, or because they just realize that with a whole website's worth of cyberspace at their disposal, instead of the limitations of a YouTube comment or a couple of seconds on WGR, they can afford to think through things a little more. Either way, my exposure to the irrational, pessimistic, once-bitten-twice-shy Fanus Sabreus over the last few years has been minimal, and I believe I am less susceptible to its sting of insanity because of it. I admit I felt myself spiraling after the clock ran down Monday night, but instead of dwelling on it, I decided to watch some of The West Wing, go to sleep, and try to make sense of it all in the morning. Good choice. The next day I visited some blogs I had never been to before, and was greeted by some classic over-reactions. Instead of making me panic, they just made me smile. It had been so long since I had heard from the type of fan who declares Game Three in a 1-1 series a "must win," or a 2-1 series officially lost, that all I could do was chuckle and shake my head at the predictability. I expect if I encountered opinions like this everyday I would find them less amusing than annoying, but I live in Minnesota, so thankfully I don't have to. As a result, the odd over-reaction in my blog rounds just makes it easier for me to under-react.

That loss was tough, but this series is far from over. Bring on Game Four.

Randomness Roundup

Before I can settle into tonight's Sabres/Devils matchup, I have to get a couple of things off my chest.

--I watched the finale of The Amazing Race today, and I have to say I wasn't a fan. I didn't have a problem with the outcome; that was hard to argue with and hardly surprising. (Here's hoping Cheyne uses part of the winnings to file the paperwork to start spelling his name like a normal person.) It was just the whole finale atmosphere that was freaking me out. I know it's kind of silly to say, "Wow, this race around the world for one million dollars just got really stressful," but that's exactly what I kept saying to myself. I guess the fact that it's suddenly not just about beating the slowest team could account for the jump in the level of pressure, but whatever the reason I found it very unsettling. It was totally throwing off the grove of my lazy afternoon. And it made me glad that the Globetrotters weren't involved, because if anything could destroy the perspective-having, support-giving, team-working vibe that made me love them in the first place, it would have been the stress of the final three. And even if I had to watch them be undone by the most banal of obstacles (the Jumble fan in me was terribly disappointed), I'm glad I never had to watch them snap at each other.

I guess if I decide to watch more seasons of this show, I'll just skip the finale episode, look up who wins online, and go take a nice long bath instead.

--A week or so ago, I got an email from a "Leafer Sutherland" telling me I was in the running for some sort of Sabres blog-off on some message board. My first and pretty much only reaction was to wonder how the hell this "Leafer," if that is his real name, had managed to find me, since I consider myself a pretty well-kept secret of the Sabres blogosphere. (He was probably googling for Cliff's notes for the BFG.) I ignored the suggestion to advertise the competition on my site and invite my readers to vote for me--rationalizing that even if I rallied my whole army of ones of readers, they would be no match for my comptetition, and also that I was supremely lazy--deleted the message from my inbox, and promptly forgot about it. Until this morning, when I received an update that, on the strength of a mere five votes (update that army of ones to an army of a handful!), I had made it to the second round of the voting process. Slightly intrigued that I had entirely accidentally not lost this competition, I decided to click the link and check out how I was doing in the round 2 poll. What I found has been making me randomly chuckle all day:

I took a screenshot to preserve the hilarity for eternity.

Yes, you're reading that correctly. 17 voters got to choose seven from a possible 13, and not a one of them threw a vote in my direction. I think this is enough evidence to crown myself writer the most overlooked, under-appreciated, hapless, and mildly pathetic blog on the internet. The Jochen Hecht of blogs, if you will. Heh. I love it.

Just so there's no confusion, this is not a post asking you to go vote for me. Quite the opposite. I can't imagine a grander accomplishment than for Desperation Hockey to be the only blog to bow out of this competition with 0% support. I don't know why I haven't noticed before, but these hands I'm typing with might actually be made of stone.

Okay, now I'm ready for some hockey!

Resolution

The sports fan in me waved 2008 goodbye with no lack of relish. I even considered writing a hate letter to the calendar-year 2008 Sabres, before I decided that, even given my sporadic blogging style, I had already wasted enough time and space writing about them. The real person in me (because everyone knows sports fans aren't real people), however, is approaching 2009 with no lack of apprehension. This is the year I graduate from college, provided everything goes according to plan, and enter the real world. (Even though I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as the real world, because John Mayer doesn't lie.) This is the year I have to start making important decisions like where I'm going to live and how I'm going to earn income and just exactly how much I'm going to starve myself in order to afford Center Ice. Though I know nothing I do immediately after college is necessarily permanent, I'm sure this year will be a turning point in some way or another. If ever there were a time for a serious New Year's resolution, 2009 would be it. So. Here goes:

In 2009, I resolve to post in this blog at least once a week.

Hah! That's right, the real world can kiss my ass!

My life will be a mess this year, but that doesn't mean I have to be serious about it. Spending my last semester trying to balance my crazy workload with living it up in the last few months together with my friends won't leave a lot of time left over, and while I could decide to spend it fretting about my future, I'd rather be doing this. Wherever life takes me over the next year, it probably won't be Western New York, and if I'm going to need blogging and the Sabres to keep me in touch with my roots, then I better keep this baby in shape.  For better or worse, writing and this hockey team are important to me, and I've been disappointed with the way I've let this blog go.

Now, I realize this is a huge commitment. We in the blogosphere like to call a commitment of posting once a week "being a blogger," so that right there should tell you how intense this is going to be. I was tempted to up the ante to twice a week, but that seemed like setting myself up for failure.

If I'm being honest, all this resolution is really going to accomplish is a few headaches and major over-usage of the "I'm a Horrible Blogger" tag before I eventually abandon the cause, but I still think it's worth a shot. And as a preliminary measure of showing my re-dedication to blogging, I've finally posted a contact e-mail to the right, for those of you who have been wondering where to send your love letters and death threats. I'm looking more and more like a real blogger all the time!

Quick note, I'm heading up to Toronto today to take in the city, the Hockey Hall of Fame, and the International Bowl. That's at least two posts of potential content right there, and if I spread it out over the next two weeks, I'm 3/52 toward accomplishing my goal! (Surely finding ways to cut corners in your resolution in practically the same breath as declaring said resolution is the secret to success.)

Happy 2009, all, and good luck with any resolving you decide to do!

Late to the Party

But what else is new, eh? I may as well be posting this entry from the moon for how in the loop I am.

The playoffs are still going strong, but that's not what I came here to break my ever-more-frequent blogger silence for. The big story in the blogosphere this week is the official smack-down laid on internet writers of all shapes, sizes, and calibers on the Bob Costas show on HBO. (Bob Costas has a show on HBO? Who knew? Well, now the entire internet does. Well played, indeed, Bob.) Buzz Bissinger, famed sports writer, author of the book Friday Night Lights, and thereby the indirect creator of my newest TV obsession (so good!), endeavored to set a Guinness World Record for incredulous sputtering when matched up against Deadspin creator and one of the fancier pantsed bloggers Will Leitch for a little "discussion." And then some random football player was along for the ride. Many other bloggers have already beat me to it, and did a delightful job, but as someone who has been known to, and may again at some point, aspire to write for a living, I felt the need to weigh in.

The sports media takes itself way too seriously. I understand that sports writing enhances the experience of sports, and has been an essential part of the sports landscape for many, many years. I understand that these writers have worked hard to get to the point they have. I certainly understand that good writing is an art form to be appreciated and treasured. But credentialed journalists didn't invent good writing, and they won't be the last to discover it, so pretending to the throne of Ruler of All that is Good and Worthwhile in the Sphere of Writing is not only an insanity, but also, frankly, an insult to the craft they practice. Discrediting an entire group of writers based on a technicality--that their writing appears on a computer screen instead of in a newspaper, or that they share their space with a few bad eggs (to which I say, who doesn't?)--is ignorance, and the unmasked, intolerant vehemence with which Bissinger lashes out against anyone who dares take a different approach to writing about sports than the one he himself took is an embarrassment to his industry. And we're supposed to buy that bloggers are the only cruel ones? I've only been aware of the sports blogosphere for a little under a year, but I can tell you right now that you're bound to find more single-minded dedication to insult, humiliation, and cruelty in one Bucky Gleason column about Sabres management than in all the blogs I regularly read combined. (Unless those blogs happen to be posting about a Bucky Gleason column, and then all bets are off on the cruelty thing.) And yes, I'm sure there are corners of the sports blogging universe that fit Bissinger's description of stupidity and profane uselessness (it is the internet after all), but those are corners that I simply don't visit. And anyway what's wrong with doling out credit and blame where it's due? We fans may not be unbiased, and we don't pretend to be, but we are agenda-less; we're accountable only to ourselves and our readers, no bosses to please and no deadlines to meet. We get to write exactly what we want, nothing more, nothing less. What's so wrong about us publicly hashing out our opinions, thoughts and feelings about the game we love? Isn't that what sports is all about? Is it just because we decided to use a media (writing) that journalists thought was specifically reserved for them and them alone?

That's the real problem I'm having with this whole thing. I don't want to generalize journalists into a group, but in this clip Bissinger was certainly acting as though sports exists only for him, for the media. The games are only played so that journalists can write about them, and they can go down in the history books to be read about and admired later. I hate to break this to him, but that's not what sports is. At the end of the day, sports is an entertainment industry, and thus exists for the fans. It exists to give the people of one city, one region, one country something to cheer about, and suffer through. And just because we've suddenly found a more efficient method to cheer and suffer together--a method that that despicably doesn't include paper of any kind--doesn't mean we want to get you and your colleagues fired, Buzz. You professionals have your purpose. Leitch didn't argue that, and I won't either. I don't know anyone who would. You, by definition, have something we fans don't: access, an insider's perspective. And that's something that's had value to the sports media for a long time. But is it so bad that suddenly the fan's perspective is gaining value in the sports media, too? Is that really taking something away from you? Are you really so afraid of it that you're pulling out ludicrous parallels between what you do with sports and what Woodward and Bernstein did with Watergate, as though that's going to prove anything other than that you have a grandiose opinion of yourself? I mean, yeah, you're all about digging up the truth, but come on. The truth about Watergate was an issue of national scandal, and the "truth" about sports is an issue of who actually screwed up the contract negotiations. Watergate would classify under the "Things of Actual Importance" tag over at The Willful Caboose. (A tag, which, by the way, through its mere existence and seldom usage perfectly illustrates why I love that blog. Frivolity isn't necessarily the enemy of worth, as anybody who has read Katebits' writing can tell you.) Sports, as much as I love it, is not a thing of actual importance. That's not to say that the reporting of the truth in sports isn't valuable, but it's not the be all end all of the sports experience, and it shouldn't be. There should room for opinion and interpretation. There should be room for fans.

The reason Bissinger had such a hard time completing his final thought--some vague insult about Leitch not wanting the facts to inhibit him--is because, I guess, Bissinger has forgotten what it means to be a sports fan, since I trust he was one, at least at some point. It's not that facts inhibit us, its that they don't so much matter to us. If sports fandom were a pursuit of fact instead of a pursuit of passion, we'd all be Red Wings fans and we'd all own Crosby jerseys. Well, except that we would all be football fans and no one would even watch hockey. In short, there'd be no point in even being a fan if all that mattered were the facts. But people like Bissinger and Costas are too caught up in thinking of bloggers as the "new journalists," and all the threats that that label entails, to really recognize us for what we are: fans writing for the fans. We're not a replacement, we're a supplement. And yeah, sometimes we're unreasonable, and sometimes we say "fuck" too much, but I ask you, what's the point of being a sports fan if it's not an excuse to be unreasonable and say "fuck" too much?

All I have to say is that if talented sports journalists are really that threatened by the idea of the voice of the fan taking away their readership, maybe they should jump into the meritocracy themselves. Degree or no degree, you have to write something interesting if you want people to read, and if your readers prefer something written by some clown with no pants on living in his parents' basement, whose fault is that, really? Maybe instead of arguing you should adapt, before the only one left to hear your incredulous sputtering is you.

IPB Makes Me Want To Be A Better Blogger

Well, I guess my ears should be burning! Bloggers have been quite the hot topic with the NHL recently. Given the massive online presence of hockey fans, the league is trying to find out how they can get in on this action, and who can blame them? Anyway, for more on that, see the piece that Hockey Night in Canada did the other night on blogging. As blogs and bloggers have been getting more attention from owners and the media alike, a Great Discussion has been circulating the hockey blogosphere about what it means to be a blogger and what the real purpose of a blog is. A lot has been made of the idea that, if bloggers are going to get the same kind of team access as journalists, they should have to comport themselves as journalists, checking their fandom at the door. Which leaves the rest of us asking: What happened to it all being about fun? Enter the two, the only, Pookie and Schnookie, evil masterminds behind the coolest, hippest hangout in the internet, Interchangeable Parts, or IPB. (That ought to get me some brownie points, eh?) They produced and answered a questionnaire, and encouraged their readers to respond to it as well. Never one to pass up the opportunity to talk about myself, I'm going to play along. So here's my contribution to the Great Discussion:

1. What was your motivation for starting blogging? Has that changed at all in the time you’ve been blogging?

Desperation Hockey began as an outlet, a way to keep me from talking the ear off of my friends and family and basically everyone I know. This summer wasn't my first as a hockey fan, but it was the first I suffered through as a hockey fan, and starting a blog was the best way I knew to keep myself occupied. Plus, all the cool kids were doing it. I stumbled upon IPB completely by accident this summer while googling for a hockey T-shirt, but it and the blogs it opened up to me immediately got my analytical and writing gears grinding. So this blog was founded solely as a place to channel that energy. Of course I hoped people would read, but initially all I thought about was what I would be putting into this space, not what people would be taking out of it. I didn't create a blogroll, not because I don't love and cherish all the blogs I read (I do!), but primarily because I never anticipated becoming part of the larger hockey blogging community. (Secondarily because I'm lazy.) That status may have changed, but if so, it's because of my readers, not because of anything that I did. I'm still new at this.

2. What do you think your blog contributes to the hockey conversation?

Just my opinions, nothing more, nothing less. I'm not looking to rock anyone's world, and I never set out to write a post with some grand purpose in mind, except to write what I'm feeling. Sometimes that's a sarcastic rant about Bucky Gleason, other times it's a love letter to Jochen Hecht, but it's always from the heart (or a bile-filled liver, in Bucky's case). I make my material as silly or as serious (well, as serious as one can get when writing about a game) as I please, and I like to think I contribute an entertaining if not humorous insight into my point of view. As a Sabres fan displaced half-way across the country in Minnesota, with no hockey- or even sports-fan friends to speak of, this blog is a way for me to keep in touch with my inner fan, and hopefully those are conversations people enjoy sitting in on.

3. What do you want to get out of the blogs you read?

Overall I, like all the fans of the NHL or any other sports league, just want to be entertained. And primarily that means being amused, but as long as the point of view is interesting, I consider it a worthwhile read. The great thing about blogs is that anyone can write them, and anyone can access them, so it's an incredibly efficient way to uncover the opinions of fans from around the country and the globe, of different teams, and different mindsets. Through the power of blogs I've been exposed to many smart and interesting fans of teams I wouldn't otherwise care about, like the Devils, Kings, Ducks, Canucks, and Stars. Of course I enjoy hearing from my fellow female fans, something which I most decidedly cannot get from the mainstream media, but I'm equally fascinated by the look into the male fan's experience--from statbits to man-crushes--as given to me by BfloBlog, Battle of California, and the Goose's Roost guys. I've found I'll even keep up with some blogs of teams I despise, as long as they can make me laugh, and make me think. In short, no matter the source, as long as it's insightful and entertaining, I'll read it.

4. What determines which blogs you read and which you don’t?

Generally anything that grabs and continues to hold my interest remains on my daily blog route, but again I find myself coming back to the matter of point of view. I don't get any interaction with hockey fans in my real life, so I like my internet experience to come from as many different perspectives as possible. As much as I like to pretend to stroke my wizened beard of sage wisdom when I write here, I'm an incredibly new fan to this sport, and there's always something out there for me to learn. So if a blog adds a new facet to that learning process, whether it's a lifelong fan offering up his analysis, or a brand spanking new fan sharing her fresh outlook, I'll continue to read it. Also, the community created by the blog/blogger is important. I like to feel welcome to add to the conversation initiated by the blog post, which is probably why I don't visit those big sites mentioned in the HNiC video very regularly. They're definitely smart and informative and I check with Mirtle et al. when some big story breaks, but I just feel too intimidated to join in.

5. How important is the issue of gaining press access to you as a blogger?

I would say it's pretty much a complete non-issue. If someone offered me the opportunity I might consider it, but it's certainly not something I'm looking for or trying to achieve with my writing. In general just the idea of being around the dressing room and having to behave like a professional makes me extremely nervous, and it's frankly something I'd rather not deal with. Especially if it would put limits on the kind of things I can and cannot write. But I recognize that there are bloggers out there who wish for nothing more than to wear a press pass and blend in with all the journalist types, and to them I say go for it! Just don't expect all of the rest of us to want to follow you there.

6. To what extent do you feel accountable for the content of your blog? How concerned do you think readers should be about the authority and accountability of your blog?

I'll admit this isn't really something I've ever thought about. Of course I take responsibility for everything I write here, and though most of my readers wouldn't know me from a mailbox if they saw me in real life, their opinions of my work matter to me. I am and always have been a perfectionist when it comes to my writing, and I spend way too much time on each and every post here trying to get it just right. Sure, there are some things that I've written that maybe I would like to take back, as I have grown both as both a fan and a blogger, but ultimately I see it all as a process. Just because my opinion or perspective has changed, doesn't make the opinions or perspectives of the past any less valid. They were just as true then as the new ones are now, and it shows my growth. That being said, Desperation Hockey is not, nor has it ever pretended to be a news blog, so pretty much nothing here should be taken as fact. (Except for the stuff I said about The Curse. That shit's totally real.)

7. How concerned are you about the authority and accountability of the blogs you read? Do you find it difficult to judge the authority and accountability of the blogs you read?

While it's certainly important, I've never had a problem discerning which bloggers I can trust. Part of the reason I like to find blogs with open and welcoming environments for their readers to comment is so that I can challenge and discuss anything that I might not agree with. The reality is that (news flash) people are different, and they don't always see things the same way. I'm not looking to take anyone to task about their opinions, just find out exactly how and why they feel the way they do. And I find with most bloggers, the accountability comes naturally for them. I've never known any of the bloggers I read to just state something without some kind of explanation thereof. (It might be because they like to write so damn much.) And if they ever do, I'm sure a quick conversation or "Could you expand on..." comment would clear things up. I find most everything I need to know about how lightly or seriously a blogger wants me to take a post is revealed quite readily through tone, so accountability has never been a problem. As for things like stats, especially the ones that require much digging and calculating, I'm inclined to just blindly trust them, unless something seems seriously awry.

8. What value, if any, do you think blogging brings to the NHL?

I think blogging has tremendous value to the NHL, and luckily they're realizing it, even if they're not sure how to use it yet. Personally, as a fan living so outside of her team's market, blogging and reading blogs is how I keep up with what's happening with my team and around the league. Out here the only hockey media I have regular access to are Versus (which barely counts), and the internet. And in less than a month I'll be in Europe with access to only one of those. (Thankfully the good one. A life with Versus and no internet would be some kind of hell.) Sure, I can get the Buffalo News anywhere online, but they're not going to be telling me the whole story. Even if they managed to somehow balance the negatives with some positives, which more often than not seems impossible for them, they still wouldn't be connecting me with the experience of being a fan like blogging can. Bloggers will let me know what the atmosphere inside HSBC was like during the game, how the area fans are reacting to such-and-such a goal/call/incident/game, who's holding up a sign that looks like "MAX BOOBS." Will the Buffalo News tell me that? No. So if I'm looking for more than just the newsworthy stories, if I want the little details and nuances that made me fall in love with the game in the first place, blogs are the only place I can turn. The truth is that even over the interminable months of the off-season, and this great distance between me and the Sabres, my interest in hockey has only grown. Doubled. Because of blogging. And given that the NHL is in the business of initiating and nurturing fans' interest (or at least they should be), they damn well should take notice.