I am faced with a massive quandary as a Devils fan right now. In what has been a trying season -- New Jersey has spent most of the season with the League's worst record -- my team is suddenly hot as a pistol and making a wild, bizarre run at the final playoff spot in the East. That playoff spot is still a far, far ways off, but it's an awful lot closer than it used to be. Last night, New Jersey trailed in the third period in Toronto before Ilya Kovalchuk pushed himself end-to-end and fired a game-winner past James Reimer in the waning seconds of overtime.
And just like that the deficit was down to 13.
Now that may not seem like the most exciting revelation. After all, New Jersey is still third to last in the Eastern conference. But that 13-point deficit was 24 points not so long ago, and with 27 games remaining there is ample time for that deficit to start dropping bit by bit. In fact, that win over Toronto Thursday night has pushed New Jersey's mark to 11-1-2 in its last 14 games, which easily makes them the hottest team in the League at the moment. Thursday night was the Devils' second consecutive overtime victory after defeating the Hurricanes in OT Tuesday at The Rock -- a game I was actually in attendance for -- and it now may have the New Jersey building the adequate momentum to make a serious run at the final postseason seed.
Lemaire's accomplishments are a pivotal part of the story, of course. The man who led the Devils to their first Stanley Cup Championship in 1995, has showed a remarkable ability to get the most out of his teams -- as he did with the Devils a season ago in what was expected to be a one-season return to the Garden State before moving on into retirement. What he has done so far this season, however, may eclipse anything else he's done. New Jersey was 9-22-2 when Lemaire was brought in to replace company man John MacLean on Dec. 23. At that point the idea of a playoff run was well off the team's radar -- and in likelihood it still is. Instead for the Lemaire, the challenge was to remind the players that not only were they professionals, but they were expected to be Stanley Cup contenders when the season began.
Rediscovering the Devils' confidence under Lemaire has been a rough process -- New Jersey went 1-7-0 in its first eight games following the coaching change, culminating in a home-and-home sweep at the hands of the hated Flyers. Since then, there has been a change, however. And the results have been staggering.
New Jersey was 27 points behind eighth-place Montreal on Jan. 9. In 14 games, the deficit has been halved.
With 27 games remaining there is certainly time for the Devils to get closer and closer, and while they would likely have to continue playing at the same remarkable pace of the past month, fans like myself have slowly started to believe that anything is possible. So why not?
Well, probability is one reason to believe why not. Cool Standings as of today still lists the Devils' chances of making the postseason this year at less than .1%, and I generally find a reliance on numbers and statistics to be the likely outcome in the long run. But without knowing the actual math they use, I'm not sure they can account for intangibles like momentum, but I can also attest, mathematically speaking, to a belief in regression to the mean and the law of larger numbers. All season long the Devils have been playing beneath their expectations and their talent level, but the larger the sample size -- in this case, 82 games -- the more likely the Devils' final record should approach their expected performance this season.
Now the Devils were expected to compete for a division title against the likes of defending-Eastern Conference Champion Philadelphia and 2009 Stanley Cup Champion Pittsburgh. While the chances of winding up in that race are just about nil, sneaking into the postseason with the final seed, if this team continues to return to its expected level performance over the long haul, certainly doesn't seem all that outlandish to me.
So that aforementioned quandary is this. Do I lament the likely loss of the Devils first potential top-five draft pick in decades, which could be used to patch a number of holes? Or do I get behind the improbable comeback?
Is it likely? Probably not. In fact, earlier this week I decided that I would wait until New Jersey had closed the gap to 10 points, and that it would have to happen by the 61st game of the season, before I fully invested myself emotionally in the prospect of the Devils making a stunning and unlikely playoff run. But with five games and only three points to go before that threshold, I'm starting to believe. It's only been a month of this season that the team has actually shown any signs of life, but now they're as lively as can be. And if they knock off the hottest team in the West in Newark tonight, (though I should note tonight's Chicago-Dallas game is also pretty intriguing as this preview attests) things could really get interesting.
And then I'd really start to believe that it's possible. In the end, short of a Championship, believing, in any season, is all you can really hope for.
However, just when you thought it might get totally dull and static because nothing was going on, Ilya Kovalchuk's wild indecisiveness has saved us all and made this suddenly awfully interesting, and not because he happens to be the most dynamic offensive player to hit the unrestricted free agent market, well, maybe ever. Nor is it because Kovalchuk was the most sought after gem of the 2010 NHL Trade Deadline or because he's scored more goals than anyone else in the League in the last nine seasons.
No, this is simply because today has been one of the more bizarre days as far as sheer number of teams and possibilities that can't make up their mind as to whether they even want to be in the Kovalchuk sweepstakes. Over the course of today, Kovalchuk has been linked to eight different teams across two hemispheres, with some more plausible than others. After a while, what became most clear, at least to me, was that no one really knew anything.
Especially Kovalchuk.
It's rare that one player can be destined to sign with so many different teams over the course of 12 hours, but apparently it takes a dynamic player who can weave through defensemen seamlessly to have the ability to weave through three different countries in one afternoon. The hubbub all started when Kovalchuk's agent, Jay Grossman, promised that a decision was forthcoming not just sometime soon but today. Cue the hockey-writing twittersphere which gets all agog over his potential movement and almost immediately decides that Kovy is going to re-sign with the New Jersey Devils for an almost shocking discount compared to what he turned down mid-season from Atlanta.
Happy David, right? All well and good?
Not so fast.
Then comes a deluge of rumors that the deal may not yet be set in stone, though New Jersey is still the frontrunner, according to the New York Post. Of course, to anyone who has been paying attention on a minute-by-minute basis -- read: losers like David Kalan -- you will notice the subtle difference made by the Post in their headline from when the story first went out.
Hold the phone kids. What's going on? Well, suddenly rumors start flying that Kovalchuk is still being tossed around every which way. The Kings are still said to be in the race for obvious reasons (talent, cap space, big market) even though they have already announced that they are no longer negotiating. Next come the Islanders who are also said to be in the mix, something that, frankly, hasn't been news for a few days now. Soon the Rangers, Maple Leafs and even Kovalchuk's old home Atlanta is said to be jumping in with last minute offers.
At long last, Grossman comes back out of the ether to indicate that after all of the hockey world went abuzz, Kovalchuk, in fact, won't be making a decision today, which basically means it's time for all of us to take a deep breath and relax because Kovalchuk clearly doesn't know where he wants to go. While we do know he has, supposedly, narrowed it down to two NHL teams, the end destination for the Russian sniper is anyone's guess. While most accept that one of those teams is the Devils, the other one is a subject of some debate amongst sportswriters and nonsensical soothsayers.
My guess? Kovalchuk and the Devils have a deal in principle, but New Jersey, short on cap space, is working hard to move a contract to make room for Kovy longterm. This would seem the most likely scenario, and many are wondering just what Devil will be the odd man out when all is said and done.
Of course, if Kovy hops to Russia or picks another team entirely, all of that hypothesizing becomes moot quickly. Like most hockey fans, I will be watching this closely, if for no other reason than because acquiring Kovalchuk turns the Devils from a contender to make a playoff run into an early favorite to reach the Finals in 2011. However, more than anything, I'd just like to know where he's going before every team in the League gets linked to him. Frankly, that doesn't seem far off.
Somewhere, I get the feeling, Ilya Kovalchuk and Lebron James are watching all of us scurry around like chickens with our heads cut off with beers in their hands.
As a child I never dealt with the trouble that comes from moving. I know many people who did and I can’t imagine having to restart my life and develop a new circle of friends. Had I not lived in the same house my parents bought in 1981 for my entire pre (and part of my post) college life, I would be completely different. Of course, it’s entirely possible I would be more able to deal with transition, which might have served me well when the Devils moved into their new home in October of 2007.
Now, this wasn’t quite the same change as when the Mets jumped across the parking lot to Citi Field 18 months later. I had spent far more time at Shea Stadium than Brendan Byrne Arena. But something still seemed odd about the opening of the Prudential Center. Perhaps it was because it was the first sporting venue in the New York Metropolitan area to open since the Byrne, which, interestingly, also opened its doors for the first time in 1981.
Perhaps it was only right that the first one of my teams to change its venue – three of them would over the next three years – came just months before I moved out of my childhood home for good, to the 21st-floor apartment I currently call home in Long Island City, Queens.
While in college I had paid a fair amount of attention to the Devils’ new arena – the planning, the spending, the groundbreaking. It would be tough in some ways to bid the Byrne its farewell. Despite watching the Devils lose the first time I went there, I had gone on a remarkable run over its final years. My mother and I witnessed Vancouver’s Todd Bertuzzi beat Martin Brodeur 56 seconds into overtime to hand the Devils a 3-2 loss to the Canucks on December 4, 2002. That would be the last time I ever saw the Devils lose at there. In fact, I wouldn’t see them lose in person again until a 4-1 loss to Buffalo on October 28, 2009 – their third season at Prudential Center.
Still, the Byrne had several flaws. It was a dull building far from any public transportation, which meant going there without your parents was impossible until you had a driver’s license. In New Jersey that didn’t happen until your 17th birthday. While I was a licensed driver by the opening of the Prudential Center – or as it would quickly be nicknamed in a nod to Prudential’s corporate logo: “The Rock” – there was still a joy that came with public transit. Moreover, the Devils simply needed a new home. The Byrne had become outmoded, difficult to get to and did not provide the revenue streams that many newer buildings gave their teams. The Devils had been clamoring for a new building for more than a decade by the time it opened, including a tenuous moment when the franchise nearly moved to Nashville immediately following its first Stanley Cup in 1995.
After years of back-and-forth, however, the Devils had finally found their home in the Rock, a beautiful, if poorly attended building in the Ironbound District of downtown Newark. To many, the choice of Newark, a downtrodden and poorer city was an odd choice for a hockey team to call home. Many feared the dangerous neighborhoods nearby and ESPN hockey commentator Barry Melrose joked, “Don’t go outside, especially if you’ve got a wallet or anything else because the area around the building is awful”.
Not surprisingly, Melrose’s comments struck a chord with the team, the fans and Newark Mayor Cory Booker. After all, the Rock was expected to be the anchor that revitalized a dying, crime-ridden city, and after Melrose agreed to come to Newark and see the building and the surrounding neighborhood for himself he changed his tune despite a derisive greeting from the crowds. Whether he did so out of honesty or contrition is immaterial. All I can say is when I first made my way there on November 2, 2007, the hefty police presence made me feels as if I was hardly in danger. I would find my own way to put my life at risk just hours later.
At the time I was three weeks into my new job and I decided to get tickets through work for my first venture to the Devils’ new lair. On my way to the game I parked my car outside my father’s house in Maplewood, New Jersey, a few blocks from the train station. As I lived at home for nearly a year after college despite working, parking at my dad’s house and walking to the train was something I had down to a science by the time I moved.
Usually, my father was working when I went to the office, but this time he was home so I decided to stop in and say hello. In retrospect, this may have been a poor choice as once I told him I was going to the Devils game with the company tickets his eyes lit up in anticipation that I was surprising him with a gift. After I informed him that I was actually going to the game with my friends Feiny and Justin, his expression changed considerably.
Oops.
I met Feiny on the train – Justin would be arriving later and, as the plan went, buying an upper deck seat and sneaking down to wherever our seats were. The public transit options were a bit untested for both of us and with this being only the Devils’ third game at the Rock not many people knew how it worked. Supposedly the public transit options involved going to one of the two train stations in the city of Newark, either Newark-Penn Station or Newark-Broad Street Station. At Penn Station it was easy enough, the platform was a brief two-block walk from the building. Broad Street, the station we were going to, was a further distance, but the Devils ran free shuttles to the Arena and as we found when we got off the train, there were dozens of employees ready and willing to direct you. As it turned out, getting to the building was as easy as could be.
As we approached the Rock it was infinitely nicer than Brendan Byrne Arena. While the Byrne was a boring, soulless box, Prudential Center had an inspired design that gave character and life to New Jersey’s hockey home. The walls were covered in red brick with dark gray borders encapsulating them, echoing the Devils’ color scheme and, supposedly, paying homage to the industrial bricklaying and railroad heritage of Newark, which is also known as “Brick City”. The front of the building featured a massive LED screen while two of its corners were made of massive glass light towers, which fans entered through as escalators led them to the main concourse. From the outside on game nights, the Rock brims with light and energy, an attempt to breathe life into a city that had been beaten down by decades of crime and poverty.
Newark had been a bustling metropolis for much of the early 20th century, with its population reaching nearly half a million in 1950. But racial tensions and eventually several days of riots in 1967 damaged much of the city and hastened its decline in population, wealth and stature. By the time the Rock opened, Newark’s population stood at nearly half of what it had at its peak. As Booker and others led the long drive back to respectability, this arena and the area surrounding it were central to the Brick City’s rehabilitation.
That is not to say that it was without its decent areas. Newark’s downtown business district was a perfectly safe place to spend your days toiling and the Ironbound district had its share of decent restaurants. My high school graduation was followed by dinner at a Portuguese rodizio restaurant in Newark called Seabra’s. But those decent areas couldn’t spare the city its reputation. In 1996, TIME Magazine dubbed Newark “The Most Dangerous City in America”, and while the ranking had dropped to a still reasonably robust 20th when the Rock opened, Newark’s reputation continued to precede it.
If its downtrodden areas were what Newark was, Prudential Center’s glitzy exterior and its clean interior were what it wanted to be. The inside of the building features far more character and decoration than the Byrne ever did. Murals detailing the Devils’ history, as well as homages to Newark and New Jersey’s sports history grace several walls along the main concourse. When the building opened, one section featured two huge banners with paintings of each building the franchise had played in from its early days in Kansas City as the Scouts, to its brief stay in Denver as the Colorado Rockies and both of its arenas in the Garden State.
One exhibit featured all of the jerseys the Devils had worn throughout their history, and another wall was painted with a bench featuring the Devils’ greatest all time players, among them Craig Billington, Bruce Driver, John MacLean, Slava Fetisov, Claude Lemieux, Scott Stevens, Scott Niedermayer, Ken Daneyko and, of course, Martin Brodeur. Echoing a trend started by the Minnesota Wild, the interior of the arena on both levels is lined with the jerseys of every high school hockey team in the state in an attempt to draw a closer connection between New Jersey’s team and its residents.
Lastly, and perhaps most interestingly, the tops of each urinal in the men’s room has an all-too-necessary Devils logo on top of it.
The building didn’t just raise the experience – or the cost – for the fans. It was also a one-stop location for the organization, featuring office space as well as the Devils’ practice rink. The Rock was only the second building in the League to house one after Nationwide Arena in Columbus, and while there is a huge glass window that allows fans to look in on the rink during practice, this was another sign for me that I was getting older. I had more than once dragged my father to South Mountain Arena in West Orange, New Jersey, a short drive from my home to watch the Devils practice. Still, with the advantages for the team, I’d find a way to get over it. Just about everything in the Prudential Center was a dramatic improvement over the Byrne.
Feiny and I were hoping our seats would be in the building’s two All-You-Can-Eat Sections. From blue line to blue line, the lower bowl sections featured large leather seats and were attached to two bars, cleverly called the “Fire” and “Ice” bars, which featured free all you could eat food and non-alcoholic beverage. While during the games it was typical arena fair – burgers, hot dogs, pizza, chicken fingers – before the games multiple carving stations were set up with finer choices like prime rib and duck. For those not fortunate enough to score those tickets, other food options around the arena still feature various types of cuisine with many coming from the city of Newark itself.
Unfortunately, while I had gotten nice seats, they were in the section over from the free food. After Justin arrived and somehow weaseled his way to our section, he and Feiny decided it was only right to sneak into the fire bar and grab some food. I was gun shy about raising trouble and reluctantly left them to their own devices while I sat and watched the game. I assumed their efforts would be fruitless, but sure enough the pair returned to our seats 15 minutes later with a slice of pizza for me.
I found it a bit of meaningful symmetry that I would see the Devils face the Maple Leafs in my first game at the Rock as I had 12 years earlier for my first game at the Byrne. In a lucky change of fate, however, the result was different this time around. While the Leafs controlled play for much of the first two periods, outshooting New Jersey 20-9, the Devils somehow managed to keep it tied before John Madden potted a shorthanded goal with 4:12 left to play to break a 1-1 stalemate. Zach Parise would add another 97 seconds later and the Devils had a 3-2 win in my first visit to their new home.
The streak would remain intact for another night.
While I was convinced the action was over for the night, I would find myself in for a surprise. With a rare Friday night off, my original plan was to continue on to New York and spend the night drinking with friends. Feiny, Justin and I,were unable to find the shuttle back to Newark-Broad Street station, however. The next time I came I would wonder how on earth I missed it. It was in the exact same place we were dropped off beforehand. But rather than stand there and wait for a second shuttle to arrive, we decided to expedite the process by simply walking to the train.
After all, how far could it be?
And so off we went through downtown Newark, which seemed perfectly fine on a Friday night. Crowds who were leaving the game or their offices still surrounded us and we headed on with impunity. As we continued the surroundings started to get somewhat less pleasant, but we assumed the station must only be a few blocks away. At one point we happened upon a theater with a long line of people in their early to mid-20s waiting outside. Justin, never one to pay social awkwardness any mind, suggested we run across the street and check out the show. While Feiny was amenable to the idea, I was not and insisted we continued walking.
Justin, however, has a tendency to be a free spirit and so off he went to see what was happening. This being the heart of downtown Newark, the crowd outside the theater was entirely African-American. In fact, there wasn’t a non-black person among them. While I detest bigotry, there was no denying that we would seem at least a little out of place. Between the three of us, our collective heritage was 83.3% Caucasian Jew and 16.7% Indian. We did not fit in, and the stunned reaction of the entire crowd when Justin nonchalantly asked them what was happening at the theater let us know it.
All of them gave us a look as if they had no clue what we were doing in the heart of Newark on a Friday night. After all, I was wearing cargo pants, Birkenstocks and a purple Northwestern hooded sweatshirt. It was clear to them I did not belong. Justin continued to press for details about whatever concert was about to be performed, but I refused to play along and started walking. As we continued it started becoming apparent that the train wasn’t as close as it seemed.
The walk continued, the lights got dimmer, the surroundings got darker and more and more broken glass appeared on the ground. More and more people on the street were asking for money and the buildings became more rundown. It was about the time the malnourished prostitute with several missing teeth offered her services to us that I realized we were lost in one of the most dangerous cities in America.
I started walking faster.
Justin and Feiny, in their absentmindedness couldn’t enjoy the light evening stroll enough. They spent most of the walk laughing, but I decided I was done aimlessly wandering the lesser parts of Newark. When we finally happened upon an onramp for I-78, we knew we were far from the right place. We soon found ourselves in a convenience store where the clerks were unable to provide adequate directions.
We walked further and I called my mother to see if she could find a map online to tell us where the train station was. Fearing for the life of her child as mothers often do – although perhaps this time it was rational – she insisted she come and pick us up, but being an adult who dreaded the idea of his mommy coming to the rescue, I rebuffed her offer and insisted we’d find our way back. Eventually, our clueless triumvirate found its way to a McDonald’s on McCarter Highway, where I asked the security guard – apparently McDonald’s in Newark requires protection – how to get to either of Newark’s main train stations.
We were, in fact, nowhere near either of them and unwilling to undertake the long trip to wherever it was we needed to go, I called mommy to rescue me. After looking up where we were and how to get there, my mother was on her way.
The three of us sat down in a booth and took deep sighs of relief. I was badly in need of comfort food so I went to the counter and ordered a vanilla sundae. A few minutes later the manager let me know that the machine which pumped out whatever it was they thought was ice cream was actually broken.
Of course it was.
As I sat back down with what I thought was my last defeat of the evening, Justin reached into his backpack and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. After unraveling it he noticed it was a color-coded map of Newark which had been given to him by Devils personnel at the train station. Not only did Justin have a map on him the entire time that would have easily directed us to the station, but we had wound up walking some three miles in the complete opposite direction.
At this point all I could do was laugh at what had been a long comedy of errors. Soon my mother was there and we were back in Millburn with no harm done. The three of us headed to Justin’s home where we spent the next few hours laughing about the misfortune over a six-pack of Yeungling and all the leftover Halloween candy the Goldstein household had to offer.
I may have risked my life at various points in the evening, but all in all, good friends, good beer and a pile of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups wasn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night. With my memories in tow, however, I would never spend one the same way again.
Daniel Kernkraut brought to my attention yesterday the existence of a group of people in England who refer to themselves as The 92 Club. Apparently this is a group of men who have made it a point to see every stadium in the Premier and Football League in England and Wales, a total of clubs that works out to -- yep, you guessed it -- 92 teams. Apparently the club was started after England's sole World Cup win in 1966 and as of four years ago it boasted approximately 1,100 members. It even has an unofficial website.
Now, I know this is not exactly the same journey as the one I'm forcing myself irrationally to pursue, but these are men after my own heart nonetheless. My trip will have some 30 more teams to visit -- barring future expansion, which is always possible -- but at some point I might contact these people or try to start a similar organization on my side of the pond.
The tricky thing about the 92 Club is that the English system of promotion and relegation means that teams in the top Leagues will often change over time, moving up and down depending on their club's fortunes. This also happens to be why my Southampton FC is mired in the third tier of English Football following hard times over the past few years and a recent series of financial troubles. And to think, they were in the top half of the Premier League just seven years ago.
Lastly, I'm sure almost none of you were watching the Devils-Maple Leafs game last night because a) it was Friday and b) it was hockey. As is the case in so many of these things, this was all your loss, as the Devils managed to pull off one of the most remarkable comebacks I've ever seen in a hockey game.
Yes, New Jersey trailed by two goals with just over three minutes to play and then scored twice in the final 44 seconds to steal a remarkable win against Toronto. It was almost as remarkable as the preview for tonight's Blackhawks-Blues game I'm not silent in the newsroom, but rarely do I jump up like this.
The coworker who sits next to me that roots for the Leafs? Well, he was less than enthused.
And in case you were wondering, new acquisition Ilya Kovalchuk had two assists.
One of my most shameless attributes is that I will miss no opportunity to glorify my favorite teams. Given that I like the Mets and the Knicks, these opportunities are sometimes quite rare, but today I came across this piece of informations which, somehow, I had never realized.
The New York Giants are the only NFC team to make multiple Super Bowl appearances in the last decade.
Did anyone realize that? I, and I pay more attention to this team than is healthy, somehow had absolutely no idea. Fortunately, though, even in a brutal season like this one, I will still have this fact to fall back on. Of course, dubbing the G-Men the "Team of the 00's" is probably foolhardy. For those who remember, 2003 and 2004 were painfully brutal campaigns, and the Giants only made the postseason six of the ten years of the decade. This is a good clip, but by no means on the level of, say, the Patriots, Colts or, well, Eagles.
Given that the Eagles still haven't won an NFL Championship since 1960, however, it'd be hard to give them that title either. Unless Chuck Bednarik comes out of retirement that streak is probably sticking.
In any event, with no football games this weekend -- unless you consider the Pro Bowl a football game -- I'm glad I can dig up chestnuts like these. Some of you may be quick to remind me that the Giants got their keisters handed to them in Super Bowl XXXV, and they did, but they also won Super Bowl XLII in the greatest fucking game ever fucking played.
At least in my mind.
Given that it's currently Friday night and none of you will probably be perusing this site until Monday morning, if then, I've decided to take some time deciding what story to post next, but I promise you all, Monday morning you will have another exciting tale about my life to read.
In the meantime, entertain yourself by watching tonight's Devils-Maple Leafs game -- because hockey's awesome even if you don't want to believe it -- or by watching career highlights of Kurt Warner, who announced his retirement today. I won't go into too much detail on his career, mostly because his years with the Giants were outstandingly forgettable, but if Warner doesn't make the Hall of Fame, it will be a total joke. Besides, don't you all want to see him thank Jesus just one more time during his induction speech?
