The Call-Up I Should’ve Declined

 

Here’s my favourite call-up story:

As you probably know by now, I’m engaged to Clark Gillies Daughter, Brianna.

At the time of this story, I was playing for the Utah Grizzlies of the ECHL (that’s me on the left, shortly before my coach became the 64th one I’ve had tell me to smile less.  Hey, I like hockey), and she was finishing her Masters at Stonybrook University, interning and taking classes to become an Occupational Therapist.  Finding time to be together was tough.

Coincidentally, my team had a homestand over Valentines Day – being that Bri was probably going to be said Valentine, she adjusted her schedule (read: skipped classes) to come out on the Friday, and booked her trip to return home on the Sunday.  Not a whole lotta time, but when you see each other once every Wayne Primeau goal, you take what you can get.

The best case scenario for me was to get called up and play in Bridgeport, which was a 70 minute drive from her parents place on Long Island.  My slow offensive start that year wasn’t exactly helping our cause.  But, I had started to pick it up, and we committed to a weekend together in Salt Lake City until Bridgeport needed a right winger… not that we were wishing for their bus to roll or anything (a horrible truth about playing in a farm system).

Her trip took her through Chicago and got to Salt Lake around nine PM, so I had gone to dinner with Jordy Hart, which is when she called.

“No complications or delays in Chicago, just boarding to get outta here babe!”

Beautiful.

I headed home to tidy the place, as is the standard panic move of a dude living with two other dudes who’s previous dude places were dude dorms or with their parents.

About 30 minutes later and five minutes from my place, I got the call from our coach:

I was going up.

I was to drive to the rink, pack my gear, get home, pack a bag and some suits, and my flight was to leave at ten PM.  I’d get in to La Guardia around 4 AM EST or so, hop in the car they sent, and get driven the 90 minutes to Connecticut, either to a hotel, or to make the money-saving move of going directly to the rink for practice (where I was told I could sleep on the couch in the dressing room for a few hours).   ….Thanks.

Oh, and there was that one other minor complication:  Bri was still in the air. 

And where had she departed from?  You guessed it:  La Guardia.  Well isn’t this special.

I was panicked.

I was plotting.

I did the only thing I could do – you can’t turn down a call-up.  I packed my stuff up, and headed to the airport.  I bought her a one-way flight (thank god there were seats) on my flight (annnnd then I was broke), and waited for her to land.

By the time her flight landed and she made it off, it was 9:15 – 45 minutes ’til her return flight, and there I was – hockey bag, sticks, duffle bag, suit bag, and holding her ticket.  No long awaited run and hug.  Minimal smiling.  My travel-weary, bummed out girlfriend cried. 

But I mean… this is a good thing… right?

We flew through the night to La Guardia, and Bri wasn’t willing to give up on our weekend.  Almost 24 hours later, she arrived with me at the hotel, where we dropped our stuff off, and I carried on to the rink, taking the only ride I could get, the sent car.

At least when the weekend was over, I’d still be close by, right?

I barely had time to see Bri over the next day or so before she had to head home, but we were happy because I’d be close.  A week later, I travelled with Bridgeport to Portland, so Bri wasn’t able to drive up on the weekend, but we had made plans for her to come up after work the following Monday. 

After the Portland game, we were standing in line at Tim Hortons, grabbing a snack for the road. I was ahead of coach Jack Capuano in the line, when this conversation happens:

“Boahny (Boston accent for Bourny) – Yoah goin’ t’ the ahll-stahh game tomorrow, aight?  When we get back, yoah flights at seven outta La Guahdia, the cah will pick you up just aftah three.”  Yup, A.M.

“Oh.  OH.  Okay….”  *thinking* “Was that just weirdest send-down ever?“  I had a hunch I wasn’t being flown back to Bridgeport after the game.  I was right.

The ECHL all-star game was in Stockton, California – not so close to New York, for you geography buffs.  After the full day of travel, I was the last guy to arrive.  Some of the players were fully dressed for the skills competition, taking place in 20 minutes – that’s how tight my cross-continent adventure was.  I was gonna have to bust it to get my gear on in time for this thing to start.

I literally didn’t even know:  What fucking event am I in?

I checked the schedule, hoping for a little time to warm up and a little information about what I was to be doing.  And there is was, in 17 minutes:

FIRST EVENT, 7:00 START
PUCK HANDLING/AGILITY SKATE

FIRST UP:  JUSTIN BOURNE

*****

 

A few pictures from our call-up:

(1) Had airport security take this picture after they red-flagged us to SEARCH BOTH OUR BAGS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(2) St. Patty’s Day with my roomate after getting called up the second time for a couple months, Kip Brennan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(3) Bri and I get artsy by this awesome old building.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(4) This thoughtful pic look familiar?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(5) Not a bad ocean view from our spot on the Sound.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(6) Didn’t have my sticks when I first got called up – what was meant to be up around the goalies ears was up around the middle of his logo.  Sighhhhh…..

A Little Insight Into “Show Dough”

 

Occassionally, I’m going to do a little feature called call-up madness, explained, where I’ll answer any questions you have (email me) about what goes on behind the scenes of an NHL farm system.  Today, I’ll talk about something I never personally got to experience, but still know how it works from being around it.  You know, the part of playing professionally where you get rich: the NHL call-up, and how it affects your bankroll.

“Show Dough” is the term used to describe making NHL money by everyone not making it, AKA players in the AHL/ECHL and beneath.  The term is best served slathered in jealousy and bitterness.

You’ve heard the all-too-true stories: guy signs a big deal and has a Cadillac Escalade by the end of the week, cause, y’know, how else are people gonna know he makes show dough if he keeps his old car? (See how nicely the bitterness sets off the phrase?)

One of the fun parts about playing professional hockey below the Escalade pay-grade is that you get used to the fact that you could be rich or broke with a call-up or send down on any given day.  You have to, or you’d go crazy trying to Gilloly your teammates (that reference too dated yet?), so you sort of get numb to the whole thing.

What this means is, sometimes the mook who accidentally drinks his own chew spit, has no front teeth and made out with that chick-at-the-bar-that-turned-out-to-be-a-dude will just suddenly get “rich” when the phone rings one day.  It’s really weird to see who changes (and how) with the show dough earned from a call-up.

When guys permanently make it, they tend to quickly adjust to the next tax bracket, so they don’t really appreciate it like the guys who only get to go up for a couple days – because that couple days of show dough sounds glorious.

To over-simplify, league minimum is somewhere around (or maybe a bit above now) $450,000.00 a year, so getting called up for ONE SINGLE DAY is pro-rated to $3,000.00 in your bank acount, $2,000.00ish after taxes.  That means a week in the bigs equals $21k, $14 after tax. 

These call ups are for real.

For a guy making $50,000 a year, a very common AHL amount, a few day call up is a nice kick in the pants.  And for guys who have an NHL deal that make more than the minimum when they go up, it starts getting crazy.  Upon getting sent back to Bridgeport with the rest of us shlubs, Jeff Tambellini told me that his call-up (around three weeks or so) had earned him more than he made over the six/seven months of the entire AHL season.

So often, you’ll see a guy who gets called up to an NHL team for a few games get sent down for the two days between games, and fans go “well what the hell was that all about?” — and the answer is pretty obvious.  If a guy is making $300 a day in AHL, they stand to save $2,700 for every day they don’t have to have the kid practice, travel, or rest on an NHL roster (also why it’s nice to have your affiliate team close).  Clearly, not the best thing for the kids ability to succeed, but hey, them’s the breaks - you can take the days you get or don’t, bud.

Just thought I’d fill-in those of you who didn’t know how call-ups got paid, because hey, I’m here to help.

Next week in call-up madness, explained: coaches that dress extra guys for warm-up, then tap one or two of them on the shoulder to tell them they aren’t playing, just before the game…. and why they should be ice-picked in the face for doing it.

{Note: at Islander camp, we got $100 a day for meal money, in an envelope just stuffed with hundreds for the week ….and they provided two meals a day, including an omlette station with our buffet breakfast.  Guys under contract got $1500 for the week for “meals”, somehow.  ECHL “per diem” as they eloquently call meal money (which you only get on the road, of course), is up to $34 a day.}

Best. Coach. Ever.

 

Did I over-PC my blog?  I think I may have.  Lord knows I’ve been tap-dancing around issues lately, and that’s no fun.  So let’s collectively loosen up.

Let’s start with an unedited fuck you to Jose Theodore, who is apparently unaware that he’s my fantasy goalie, and so posted a 26.09 GAA with a .400 save percentage last night with no regard for my fantasy team.  Thanks.  That’ll be really easy to bounce back from with CAREY FUCKING PRICE as my other goaltender.

Sorry about the language.

Moving on.

*****

From the SPHL, here’s the type of person that made hockey so quittable for me:

 ’

Keep in mind that unless your coach has a YouTube worthy meltdown to get him fired, sometimes you’re just stuck with a dumbass for a coach.  On that train of thought, let’s put a positive spin on it…

The Best Coach I Ever Had

The best coach I ever had was my coach for less than two months, Davis Payne.

After my senior year of college, I had a few classes to wrap up, so I wasn’t able to go anywhere to start playing professionally.  Fortunately for me, Davis gave me the chance to join the Alaska Aces and at least get my feet wet playing in the ECHL playoffs, since I was there anyways.  They let me miss games when I had tests to take, and took me on the road when I was able to go.  I felt like Mario goddamn Lemieux. “No, I’ll just play games, thanks”.

Certainly that doesn’t qualify him as a good coach though… this does:

We were prepared with Davis.  X’s and O’s-wise, I mean.

“Old school coaches” that GM’s and owners love to hire (“nobody’s slackin’ on our team!”) beat up the same tired mantra.  It’s about hard work.

Gotta be ready from the drop of the puck!  Finish checks!  Out-work ‘em down low!  Gogogo!  …Oh we lost?  We got outworked.  See you at practice tomorrow.

Davis would still preach hard work, but he prepares his teams too.  Before each game, the whiteboard was JAMMED with information.  Those crib notes included our opponents most used breakouts, their powerplay breakouts, powerplay setups, who to “key on” (who’s the most frequent PP shooter, stay in his lane), what their penalty kill setup is, goalie’s weakness etc.  Then, the list of all of our info… same stuff, other side.

He had it up as soon as we walked in the room, so guys could grab a coffee and study up before he came in and went over it all.

Between periods, he made adjustments.  “They switched from a box plus-one on the powerplay to an umbrella, here’s our counter-adjustment…”

And we had the confidence of absolutely knowing we were more prepared than our opponent, especially in the ECHL (the year before that season they won the Kelly Cup, and that year we went to the conference finals).  And having played for three other coaches in the ECHL, I can tell you that we were way, way (way), more prepared on that team than any other team I’ve been on since.

And so you work hard, but you don’t waste energy.  You’re in the right spots.

On that team, I never felt like I came to feel in the following seasons, like I was chasing the puck around like a cat after a laser pointer.  Ohthereitgoes!  Thereitisagain!  CrapIcan’tgetit.

Which is why I believe the style of coach needed in the NHL has changed, but some teams haven’t realized it yet.  Mike Kennan?  Gimme a break. 

If you think Mike Babcock has had so much success just because of Datsyuk and Zetterberg, you’re nuts (don’t forget he had, ahem, Chris Osgood in net).  Plenty of coaches have stars to work with.  “The wings dig up amazing talent” isn’t an infrequent comment.  My contention is that maybe they do, but also, maybe they just put them in the best situations to be successful, they way Bill Belichick makes good players great in New England.  No, no, it was that Matt Cassel has a rocket arm.  Was it?

So there ya have it.  Cheers to the Davis Payne’s of the world.

*****

Davis is now the Head Coach of the AHL’s Peoria Rivermen, and in my opinion, a likely candidate for Andy Murray’s job next year.

*****

In the eight playoff games they chucked me in, I think I had 3 and 2 for 5, but was semi-retarded the first few times I attempted his “layering” d-zone theory.  I was used to my college “cover their D” job as a winger, better known as “don’t let Alex Goligoski get the puck”, or the ”don’t ever let Matt Carle shoot” theory. 

The Preseason Marathon

 

A little pre-season insight:

For players whose season is going to start in the ECHL, the preseason is longer than Islander fans tolerance for losing.  And slightly more like Chinese Water Torture.  With less pay.  You’re being evaluated  *drip* You’re being evaluated *drip* You’re being evaluated *drip*.

For them, it seems like it takes a lifetime to get to a meaningful game.  The NHL team invites all their guys under contract (plus hopefuls), while knowing the majority of them are going to play farther down the ladder.  They just want to check if their unpicked fruit has ripened.  A chunk of these guys at camp are on three-year NHL deals, and the team simply knows that they’re paying to have the guy in the last year of that contract, if at all.

{Tangent #1 - I wrote a column for Hockey Primetime about my thoughts on development here.  If I were an NHL GM, I’d leave the developing to someone else.}

{Tangent #2 - One of those three-year-contract guys that will pan out is Andrew Macdonald, Islanders defenseman.  Guy got so crazy good, so crazy quick in the ECHL it was scary.  Spent last year being great in the AHL.  Got NHL games.  Keep your eye on him, he’s a gifted player… and looks like Brooks Orpik.}

Those ECHL players will start the ride at rookie camp in June.  Then the main camp in September.  It’s a week to ten days of practices and exhibition games, being constantly evaluated at everything you do (including social interactions).    Then they’ll get sent to the AHL camp.  The same week to ten days happens there, albeit with less media pressure and less perks.  Then ECHL camp.  Subtract media and perks again.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

For those guys who do the three league countdown, they’ll show up at NHL camp around September 12th, and play their first game in the ECHL nearly a month later, around October 7th (then the kicker – you don’t get paid for three weeks.  By November, they’re near starvation.  If I was a part of a players union, guys would get paid something for training camp).

It’s a tough time of the year for those guys, and I feel their pain.  Nothing pummels the ego quite like getting cut twice to start the year.  Re-hashing that ride, I can’t help but notice how comfy this couch is…

{Tangent #3 - No preseason is as miserable as the college preseason.  Arrival: mid-August. First game: mid-October. Two months: takes two years.}

*****

I watched a special on the guy who holds the ball for the kicker in football (Usually the 14th string QB, no?).  He’s a Superbowl champion.  First guy to run out of the tunnel ahead of the team too.  And I quote: “I was so excited, there was no way anyone was beating me outta that tunnel”. 

…Hmm.  Yeah.  …Yeah, you proabably deserved that honour.

But after thinking about it, is there any job in sports that holds a less-appealing goat to hero ratio?  You know, as far as the potential to become one or the other goes?

Two percent chance of being a hero.  Tops.  Maybe a bad snap is corraled, and you get the ball down in time for the kick (which is rarely noticed anyways.  It’d have to be a real bad snap). 

 

For every time you save a play, there’s probably 650 ruined by flubbed snap catches and bad ball placement.  650 – 1 goat to hero ratio?  Laces out, Finkle.  

(*goat-to-hero figures may not be precise)

Advantages in Hockey

 

In sports, being slightly better has major advantages.

As Malcolm Gladwell discussed in “Outliers”, a huge percentage of NHL hockey players were born in January, February, and March.

The reason for this is as follows: At the age where we start separating kids into the ”elite” and “for fun” groups, we separate the advanced kids from the ones who do stuff like re-tape their stick without peeling off the previous layer (if you’re reading this, and you do that, feel free to feel some shame).  At eight years old, a kid born in January has had a lot more time to develop than the nearly-eight-year-old born in December, yet the kids play the same “year” of hockey.

So, the older, probably bigger kid makes the cut – in turn, he gets more ice times, better coaching, and plays with better kids (I literally summed up 100 pages of Gladwell in four really long sentences).

He gets better, and next year, the gap between him and that kid born in December is wider (fine, five).  And now the December kid has started wearing yellow laces and taping his stick with multi-colour fun-tape.  It’s not okay.

Thus, that slight advantage snowballs into major gains for the early-year birth (which sports-obsessed fathers have become keenly aware of. There are plenty of Dad’s trying to time the early-year birth these days).

So, in the same spirit, I thought I’d mention how players in the higher professional leagues enjoy an advantage to those players trying to work from the bottom up (and I don’t mean the millions of dollars and groupies).

This is meant to be aside from the smaller advantages, which add up in their own right: unlimited sticks, so they’re always crisp.  Better medical and training staffs.  Flights over buses.  Better meals.

The advantage is that it’s actually easier to think and play in higher leagues.

As you move higher in the ranks, your teammates have better hockey smarts.  They tend to play their position, they tend to stay in their lane.  You know you can trust that they’ll be where they’re supposed to be, and it’s easier to play (no-look a pass to the point in the ECHL and you might be icing the puck into your own zone).

This is why NHL fans see a lot of AHL players come up, play fine, not hurt the team, but never stick – it’s actually easier to think the game when it’s more controlled, as the higher leagues are.

They don’t stick because, any half-decent player can fit into a system and do fine, especially when everyone is doing their part properly.  In the NHL, and AHL, if you aren’t doing something on top of what the teams system is, you’re expendable.

Returning to the ECHL after spending time in the “A” feels like you’ve gone back to play in your high school gym class’s ball hockey game.  The entire pack of people seems to chase the ball.

But the league is extremely talented… don’t get me wrong.

People assume the NHL is comprised of the most talented players – it’s really just the most talented that managed to avoid the idiot gene.

What this means is, there are plenty of players that are just as talented, but sadly, did get beaten with the genetic idiot stick.

And what that also means, is that for a lot of ECHL’ers (or CHL’ers, SPHL’ers…) trying to move up the ranks, you’re trying to figure out where Gretzky the Clown on your line is headed to next.

This is a unique problem that a guy like Kyle Okposo will rarely have to deal with (I say rarely, because he did get stuck with me as a linemate for a weekend), whereas some kid playing in “the Coast” trying to prove himself to scouts can end up minus three simply by having brain-dead linemates.

I played with a number of kids who must have had promise in junior, because they had been signed to three-year NHL deals out of junior (sidenote: all these kids get the same contract now – can we not flip Tavares an extra 20 bucks for helping the Isles sell 53,000 jerseys?).

Frankly, a lot of them (most?) weren’t very good.  But by signing that deal, it gave them the time at a high level in a more controlled game to develop their talents – an opportunity not afforded those who weren’t ahead of the game by junior.  The good thing for them is, the organization is invested in them, and doesn’t want those contracts to look like bad decisions.