Happy New Year to ...
Happy New Year, everybody.
Happy New Year to hockey players at all levels, locked out from or swept up in a game that tests both character and bone density all at once. We are bound together, whether we still play or not, whether we play for a laugh or for a living, whether we starred for the home side or barely made the cut. Most importantly, we know the maximum number of times you can smell the inside of an equipment bag before total respiration shutdown kicks in.
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Happy New Year to hockey journalists, on the beat or just plain beat. You've taken curmudgeon-osity to previously unimagined levels and done it without missing a scowl. As Lil' Jon says, "Let's get crank(y)."
Happy New Year to Bruins owner Jeremy Jacobs, for providing even those who support Gary Bettman's pursuit of cost-certainty with a reason to buy a "What Would Goodenow Do?" bumper sticker. Jacobs' latest savvy business decision was to question the very professionalism of the same players he puts on the marquee and asks Bostonians to shell out to watch. "There's a whole body of thinking by a lot of people within the sport who feel the high-priced players don't necessarily play every day," Jacobs told The Boston Globe. "They're comfortable, they're presumptuous, they know they're going to play and they don't have to fight for the position ... That's the view of some. I don't say it's (my) view, but it's been suggested the game would be a whole lot more interesting if people skated harder every game as opposed to mailing it in."
That's right kids, the dude who forked over $20 million to sign Martin Lapointe is here, and he wants to tell you how the big world works. Pass the vomit bucket when you're done with it.
Jacobs is one of the biggest hawks on the league's CBA negotiating committee, which aims to neuter a pitbull the Bruins owner helped breed. He rails against the guaranteed contract, when his signing of Lapointe remains one of the most laughable examples of owner lunacy in NHL history. He leads the charge to further reduce the rights of rookies, when his deal with Joe Thornton provided a beachhead from which agents could lead the assault against other owners. He chides players for growing content with a certain income and not striving for more, when the sentiments could easily describe the team he's almost driven into the New England dirt. If hypocrisy gave you a suntan, Jeremy Jacobs would be George Hamilton.
We'll give Jacobs credit for one thing: he's the only human being ever able to coax a colorful quote out of Joe Sakic. When told of Jacobs' remarks, the Avs captain said:
"Here in Denver, we'd like to thank Jeremy Jacobs for the way he runs his business. Otherwise, we wouldn't have gotten Ray Bourque and won a Stanley Cup."
A zinger! From Joe! Sakic! Regardless, it'll be hella intriguing to see whether Bettman gives Jacobs the financial stink eye -- in the form of one of the hefty fines he's already assessed to owners who broke his ban on lockout talk -- or if he lets the (proverbial?) worm off the hook. If there's any fairness in the world, it will be the former, because Jacobs' verbal assault is as damaging as any so far, equally as offensive to anything Chris Chelios has ever said. Jacobs' words reveal him as Gen. Buck Turgidson to Bettman's Dr. Strangelove, a man spoiling for a fight without knowing the rules of engagement. As long as he has the commissioner's ear, the rest of us should expect the bum's rush.
But Happy New Year anyway, Jeremy. You give a Bettman apologist good reason to change his mind.
Happy New Year to the people behind the curtain: the ushers and hostesses, the Zamboni drivers, the timekeepers, the goal judges, the in-game promo people, the dressing room attendants and the trainers, the program peddlers and the hotdog hawkers. Most of you don't have a union to look out for you during the lockout; here's hoping somebody eventually does.
Happy New Year to the ticket scalpers, for ... ah, forget it. Screw the scalpers.
Happy New Year to the on-ice officials and their rhino-thick skin. Sure, sometimes you guys are more wrong than www.screenshots.com/about_us/nudegallery.html, but we all make mistakes. Hell, some of us make mistakes, hire a former head of the SCC to publicly report those mistakes, then demand that our next blueprint for success be strictly adhered to, under threat of further press conferences.
Compared to those sort of screw-ups, we can live with a missed offside every now and again.
Happy New Year to the collectibles/memorabilia industry, for giving faded favorites a few more minutes in the public eye. Ditto to car dealerships, for leaving no illusions as to the preferred rides of big-name players. Hey, if it's good enough for a discerning bon vivant such as Tie Domi, who are we to argue?
Happy New Year to the number nuts and the fantasy junkies. Happy New Year to call-in radio shows, for giving psychiatric patients something to do with their telephone privileges. Happy New Year to the organists and the anthem singers; we're indebted to you for adding emotion to an entertainment experience that can come off pre-fabricated and rote. Happy New Year to the hosers in the nosebleeds and to the socialites in the steep seats.
Happy New Year to hockey's support system -- the husbands, wives, fathers and mothers who would probably rather be doing something else. Thanks for putting up with early practices, loudmouth parents beside you in the stands, and arena "cuisine." May those you invest your time in return the favor -- unless your passion is Jessica Simpson's music, in which case you're on your own.
Finally, happy New Year to the often-ignored, rarely-rewarded hockey fan. You like the cold and secretly pity those who can't follow the play on TV. You convince yourself re-mortgaging the house is a sane answer to the latest jack-up jobs on ticket prices. You drive for hours on end to see games that offer no guarantee of entertainment. You love the game, no matter how hard it slaps you back in return. You're the lifeblood of an industry that's down to its donor reserves.
If it's to be a happy New Year for any of us, the bleeding has to stop soon.
E-mail Adam Proteau at aproteau@thehockeynews.com.
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