Just You Wait: “L’Hockey, Northern Quebec,” a 2003 image by Scott Conarroe. Edmonton-born, Conarroe is a prize-winning photographer who divides his time between B.C. and Switzerland. For more of his remarkable views and vision, visit his website and/or his page at Toronto’s Stephen Bulger Gallery. (Image: © Scott Conarroe / courtesy Stephen Bulger Gallery)
Above: Behn Wilson of the Chicago Blackhawks gives his stick a
smack during a game at New York’s Madison Square Garden in
January of 1988. (Photo: Bruce Bennett)
The first of the two goals that Alexander Ovechkin scored last night in Washington’s 7-1 romp over Ottawa was a momentous one, of course, the 500th of his career. The Washington Post has a useful review of how and when he’s scored all those goals, and where Ovechkin fits into NHL goalscoring history. As for the goal itself, here’s a quick look at how it’s being worded in the hours since it went in.
The Canadian Press:
The landmark score was vintage Ovechkin. Posted up just beyond the left hashes during a power play, he fielded a feed from Jason Chimera and then whizzed a shot past the head of goalie Andrew Hammond just under the crossbar for a 5-1 lead.
Des Bieler in The Washington Post:
Ovechkin got his goal in classic fashion, sending a wrister past goalie Andrew Hammond from his favorite spot at the left circle.
Alex Prewitt in Sports Illustrated:
The milestone goal had been roofed past goaltender Andrew Hammond, a slingshot from Ovechkin’s usual office on the power play.
If you watched the game from the start, or saw the highlights, later, you may have noted the quick kiss that Ovechkin bestowed on the right-curving blade of his Bauer Supreme Totalone MX3. For luck? For thanks? Could he have scored without it? Just because we don’t know any of the answers to those questions doesn’t mean we can’t take a moment to commemorate a few other select hockey busses from years gone by. Fans of the Toronto Maple Leafs well remember Don Cherry’s lips meeting Doug Gilmour’s cheek on Hockey Night in Canada circa 1993 (there was also a 2013 reprise, featuring Nazem Kadri), but the timely hockey kiss goes back further still:
“Imagine me getting kissed by the Russian coach,” said Jack Riley, whose U.S. hockey teamed zoomed to the top of the Olympic hockey tournament by upsetting Canada 2-1.
Russian coach Anatoli Tarasov of the once-tied, second-place Soviets hugged and kissed Riley in the bedlam that followed the Americans’ stunning conquest of the high-powered Canadians Thursday in the Winter Games hockey tourney.
• Patrick McNulty, The Associated Press, Ellensburg Daily Record, February 26, 1960
Glenn Resch is edgy and he admits it.
“I’ll let the pressure take its course,” the friendly New York Islanders goaltender said Thursday night. “If I get sick, I get sick. My nerves are super-jumpy.”
Of course, it didn’t show Thursday night when Resch led New York to a 4-1 playoff victory over the Pittsburgh Penguins. It didn’t show, either, when Resch kissed the goalpost behind him in the first period; he was wearing his painted facemask at the time.
Shots by Pittsburgh forwards hit the post twice in the period. “I literally kissed the post,” he recalled. “It’s my best friend. I get along with it just like my wife.”
• Frank Brown, The Associated Press, Lewiston Evening Journal, April 24, 1975
His composure and efficiency under pressure are dazzling for an 18-year-old rookie, but Brendan Shanahan of the Devils wants to do much more before he is satisfied with himself.
Since his arrival in New Jersey as the second overall choice in the draft last summer, Shanahan’s flamboyant looks, articulate speech and expressions of affection for teammates — he kissed Claude Loiselle, who assisted on Shanahan’s first goal — have captivated fans of the Devils.
“Some people like to keep their feelings inside,” Shanahan said before practice here today. “I just like to let them out, especially when I’m excited.”
“I kissed Claudie,” Shanahan said of Loiselle, who assisted on the goal that gave the Devils a 3-2 triumph over the Rangers a week ago. “I knew I was going to kiss the guy who assisted me. I don’t know if he noticed it.”
• Alex Yannis, The New York Times, November 17, 1987
After the 4-4 tie between the Islanders and the Devils at Nassau Coliseum today, the Islanders’ Pat LaFontaine, following an appropriate dictum, stepped from the locker room to the corridor — and kissed his sister.
There was only one problem. His chin was still dripping blood from a fresh, six-stitch gash caused by a speeding puck. “I dripped blood over her blouse,” LaFontaine said. “Sorry about that.”
• Joe Lapointe, The New York Times, January 29, 1990
How embarrassing was it for Washington? Consider the altercation between Keith Jones of the Capitals and Esa Tikkanen of the Rangers, two rough, tough, gritty players. Trying to inspire his team, Jones played a mean game, bumping, hacking and slashing whenever possible, taking three minor penalties.
After one confrontation, Tikkanen got close to Jones. He got in his face, boy, did he ever. And then Tikkanen, well, he, yes, he, uh, why he kissed him. That’s what he did. He kissed him right on the nose. And there is no penalty, minor or major, for that.
“He’s trying to be a tough guy, trying to stir the pot,” Tikkanen said of Jones. “We’ve got to turn around and skate away.” Shoot, nowadays, if you want to see a good fight, you’ve got to watch the National Basketball Association playoffs or maybe a major league baseball game.
• Joe Lapointe, The New York Times, May 6, 1994
It was inevitable that Hockey Night in Canada would take its annual Hockey Day to Peterborough, as it’s doing this coming Saturday. Eventually, we knew, Ron and Don would make their way up Highway 115. The fact that they waited 13 years to do it is deceiving. It makes it seem like the Ontario city is just one more in a longish line of smaller hockey-fervent heartland municipalities, not so different from the rest of the stops on the HNiC trail, your Stratford, Ontarios, your Campbelltown, New Brunswicks. Don’t be fooled, though. That, of course, is just crazy-talk. Peterborough is different.
Easy for me to say, of course: as a natural-born Peterbroovian, I’ve known about Peterborough’s peerless hockeyness all my life, via my bones and my blood. Born, like the rest of me, at Civic Hospital at the corner of Weller Street and Wallis Drive, they have never doubted it. People from away — “the others,” as we say, or sometimes just “them” — non-Peterbruins wonder what we mean by the word “hockeyness” and how it comes to be, as we claim, of a whole other magnitude compared to that of, say, Viking, Alberta, or Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia. “Huh?” they say, and: “Sorry?” And, of course, we’re not always able to explain it. “Pardon?” we say. “Excuse me?” Continue reading
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