Canon Fodder – Sports Blog

Just a warning: I’m feeling a bit poignant today…

 

An old friend of mine was married on Friday. Kevin was a defenseman on a couple of teams we played on together before moving out of state. He and his bride-to-be would be in town just long enough for the ceremony and reception, and then head back to their home in Atlanta.

 

As I went about my day, I thought of what I could write for Canon Fodder. I was also attempting to put into perspective why Kevin’s departure was so bothersome for me. Other players had come and gone without a second thought. Kevin and I were good drinking buddies but – outside of hockey – we really weren’t that close. Good friends but hardly best friends.

 

So what was I going to miss so much about this particular guy?

 

To be fair, I’m a mediocre goalie at best. Maybe better than average for beer league, but nothing to write home about. I’ve always had to bring more to the table than just stopping pucks to prove my worth. I keep the team organized and attempt to be a calming factor during games. I try to use my brain to make up for what I lack in actual talent.

 

Much the same way, Kevin is terribly average in his hockey abilities. He can skate well enough and he’s not afraid to handle the puck, but he’s never been the best on any team at either skill. He’s a role player, that fourth defenseman you need to round out a unit. The kind of guy you can pair with anyone because Kevin has enough of each skill to compliment his defense partner. In that regard, he’s the ideal defenseman for any team and a key reason I went out of my way to have him join my two best hockey teams.

 

On the way to the ceremony I finally put it all into perspective. Kevin and I were two mediocre talents that, when working together, produced a beautiful synergy.

 

Now I realize some of you are reading this and wondering if there’s some serious “man-crush” going on but it’s nothing of the sort. Anyone that has played an organized team sport has had the opportunity to experience exactly that to which I’m referring. Those not fortunate enough to experience it for themselves may have witnessed secondhand watching former Tigers Alan Trammell turn a double play with Lou Whitaker or St. Louis Blues Adam Oates assist on a Brett Hull goal or even John Stockton bouncing a pass to a Carl Malone slashing to the paint during their days in Utah. 49ers Joe Montana and Jerry Rice would certainly have something to offer on the subject of synergy on the playing field.

 

My point is Kevin and I will never be worthy of Hall of Fame stature in any sport but our playing styles were so complimentary as to raise both our games to another level. While playing together we managed to skate our way into a few championships. Though a goalie always has a special bond with his defensemen, Kevin and I went a step further.

 

As a goalie, there’s no better feeling than knowing your defenseman is going to perform his duties perfectly. Kevin and his workman-like approach to protecting the goal crease always thwarted opponents breaking off the wing toward the slot. There was no need for him to awkwardly use his hockey stick to block a shot that could deflect into the net; Kevin knew to let me see the shot and get ready to clear away the inevitable rebound. On the occasion I would wander too far from the net, Kevin would be there to interfere with an opponent long enough to allow me to meander back to the crease. A loose puck in the crease? Kevin would tie up his guy and allow me to find and cover it for the whistle. He did his job and always allowed me to do mine.

 

Most importantly, when things looked their grimmest – facing an offensive onslaught on the wrong end of a power play – Kevin was always there to offer a sly grin because we knew we were going to kill the penalty and eventually win the game.

 

With all this tumbling through my head, I attending the ceremony and had a great deal of fun. The food was wonderful. The liquor was top shelf. A chocolate fountain was the centerpiece dessert. The late night snack consisted of White Castle cheeseburgers. (This led to a Bermuda Triangle-esque combination of gin, too much chocolate and sliders. The result was a lost night of sleep as I spent more than a few hours on the commode.) The night peaked when members of the 80s band The Romantics were on-hand to jam with the bridal party on stage. A good time was had by all in attendance.

 

There came a time in the night when Kevin was with a relatively small group of guys at the bar (and I happened to be in need of another gin and tonic). I stood there as Kevin finished his story to the gentlemen when he turned and noticed me. “And here,” he boasted, “is the best goaltender I’ve ever played with. I don’t know what it was about him, but he always brought the best out in me.” We exchanged a few quick stories and eventually the group broke up as Kevin had groom responsibilities to attend to. I was pleased with the compliments he had bestowed and went back to my table.

 

Later, when it was time for the wife and I to leave, I was fortunate enough to catch Kevin without friends or family competing for his attention. I told him all the usual wedding stuff. Nice ceremony. Great food. His bride looked gorgeous. Blah, blah, blah. He looked at me and said, “I’m really happy but the one thing missing in my life is playing hockey.” I’ve still got a little hockey left in me but the end of the road is definitely in sight so I could sympathize. What he said next convinced me there is more to this synergy stuff than just my imagination. “We really played well together.”

 

We did.

 

Maybe one day he’ll move back to town and we’ll have another chance to lace up the skates.

 

I’m always grateful for the wonderful times I’ve had playing team sports. It’s been my privilege to play with many fine teammates over the years. But in the end, it’s those few wonderful moments when everything was in sync between myself and teammates like Kevin I’ll always cherish the most.

 

A quick example…

 

Our team had been to four championships without winning. With one of our least-talented rosters in years, we found ourselves back in the championship game after an incredible playoff run (including a 2-1 double-overtime shootout victory). The key to this particular team was a commitment to defense over our previous more freewheeling squads and as a result our games were much closer whether winning or losing.

 

So there we were in the waning moments with a one-goal lead, a faceoff just inside the opposing zone and maybe a dozen seconds on the clock. We were seconds away from capturing our first championship after years of failure. Kevin was on defense when I called out to his partner and him. “There’s just a few seconds left. Nothing gets past you guys.”

 

Kevin turned just enough to flash a wry grin over his shoulder and say, “There ain’t nothin’ getting past us.” We both knew what had to done and both of us were confident in each other’s ability to do it.

 

And then we won the championship.

 

And my defenseman was there to share it with his goalie.

 

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