Penalty shot!

I don't have much in the way of statistics to back this up, but it seems to me penalty shots are happening at a much greater rate since the end of the 2005 lockout than beforehand. Now don't get me wrong, they're exciting. And I'm all for seeing more. But I have to wonder about some of these calls. It came to a head for me tonight during the Canada-Germany game when the Canadians were awarded a penalty shot under what I will call "dubious" circumstances. Canada's Rick Nash was on a "clear breakaway," with less than half a step on the German players pursuing him when he took a shot, turned his back to the goal, and tripped over German netminder Thomas Greiss. I'm sorry kids, but that is not a play deserving of a penalty shot. Let's have a look at Rule 25.8 - ii, which states "the infraction must have been committed from behind." Right there this play goes out as a legitimate shot. On New Years Eve during the Canada-USA World Junior Championship game, an American player was awarded a shot on an infraction from behind-- but with a defending player between himself and the goal. Again we'll consult the rules: Rule 25.8 - iv says "the player in possession and control (or, in the judgment of the Referee, clearly would have obtained possession and control of the puck) must have had no opposing player between himself and the goalkeeper." I'm not the type to arbitrarily hate on the referees. Their job is not easy, and it's not a job I can do. And to try to do so from my seat in the stands or my couch is unfair to them. For the most part, I don't complain about calls either for or against my team. But getting penalty shot calls wrong can unfairly change the balance of a game, and that's not fair to the players. So they irk me. (Blown offsides calls, too). I don't want to be the Grumpy Gus that says we need to take this exciting play out of the game, but I do want to be the fan that stands up and says we need to see more consistency in the calls, within the framework of the rules. I don't think that's too much to ask.

Try, try again

Well I haven't been writing. Apparently the plan to get up early every morning to write was a little too ambitious. So here I am now, as the Olympics press on and I've decided I have something to say. Now it's not about the men's hockey team, and it's not even about the women's team. It's about Denny Morrison. This little twerp, a former world-record holder who fell apart at the oval this week says he lost because the Own The Podium program ... skated faster than he did? Right, sorry. He says he lost because Canadian coaches wouldn't let American Shani Davis train in Canada, out of deference to the scads of money Canadian corporations and government threw at the speed skating team (and every other program). I want to give him a free pass for making stupid comments in the heat of the moment, but I can't. It's one thing to bite the hand that feeds, and another altogether to dump a steaming pile of crap on it like Morrison did. Is Own The Podium a perfect program? Absolutely not. And the proof is in the mountain of gold the Americans, Chinese and Norwegians are mining while Canadians watch from the sideline. But is it the problem? Absolutely not. It's come under fire this week and the funding will almost surely be cut after Vancouver 2010 (which would be a horrible mistake). But the money and the program aren't responsible for the kinds of performances like Morrison's. He's the only guy that can go out there and skate. And ultimately, you don't build an Olympic-winning program inside of four years. It starts from the ground up. It starts when a young girl sees Jenn Heil, and all the class she carries herself with, and decides to try her hand at skiing. It starts when a young boy sees short-track speed skating for the first time and begs his parents take him to the oval. It continues when someone my age tells his grandkids about Alexandre Bilodeau's performance and grace while watching the 2054 Games. With stories like Jamie Sale and David Pelletier in 2002, Heil in 2006, and Bilodeau now, we'll start to really see our athletes take a leap in the next three Olympiads. And that's what Own The Podium is really about: trying to leap farther than we ever have. We didn't make it this time, but if sport teaches us anything, it's that we have to get up and try again when we fail. Here's hoping the folks behind Own The Podium remember that lesson moving forward.