I don't seem to cope well when teams and individuals I support in sport do well. It's all a bit, well, satisfying, to be honest, and frankly I was having a hard time reconciling my thoroughly British desire to have a whinge and be a bit glum with the success going on in my various areas of sporting interest. I'd become a bit giddy of late, what with Watford reaching the dizzying heights of fourth in the Championship and all the goals they’ve been scoring, and then I go and start supporting a new sports team and their response is to win immediately! It's all been too much for me, I've been having palpitations, you know. Luckily, the winning streak was soon to come to an end.
I mustered a respectable crowd of 5, including myself, for the Newcastle Vipers match against Coventry Blaze on Saturday night, following last week’s epiphany (that being that ice hockey is a sport I could really get involved in – see my previous post!). I even managed to drum up some actual enthusiasm! Mostly in anticipation of the numerous fights I had promised would break out (see, I told you it wasn’t just me!) but hey, they were there and that’s what counted.
We arrived early enough to see the pre-match warm-up which was quite a sight. Very well orchestrated training drills gave the impression of a tight-knit unit, which is what you would expect, they are professional athletes don't you know. But it proved to be a bit of a false prophet; not quite such a pretty picture was painted by the team when it came to the match itself. At first glance it appeared the Vipers were a little more organised than the previous week against Braehead Clan, and definitely more focused, with very little in the way of physical conflict – much to the disappointment of my brethren who were all but baying for blood, and also so it seemed later, to the detriment of the team.
Coventry were simply much more well organised and motivated, and they attacked Vipers netminder Charlie Effinger with increasing ferocity, systematically exposing the flaws in the Vipers’ defence culminating in a five-goal stand in the second period which effectively ended the game and put the kybosh on what might otherwise have been a jolly happy evening in Whitley Bay town centre. (Does it sound like I know what I’m talking about yet?).
Gone was the buzz of the previous week, to be replaced by an air of frustration and discontent at the dismal showing, one particularly disgruntled fan taking it out on a poor, unsuspecting seat right in front of us and almost causing foot-al injury to my better half (although I have a sneaking suspicion his anger may have been caused in part at least by a spot of domestic unrest rather than the hockey). Luckily seats don’t fight back, although I’m not so sure about his rather shouty spouse who stormed after him all guns blazing. Apparently it’s not just the players who get wound up at hockey matches.
On reflection, despite a pretty uninspiring performance, I did enjoy the evening. My understanding of the game has increased exponentially in the space of a week, the kaleidoscopic action shifting ever so subtley before my very eyes and dissolving into clarity, sort of like a big, cold, 3D magic eye picture. The hyperactive fly effect of the first night was substituted for a spectacle of grace and aggression – by no means a perfect exemplar of the game of ice hockey in general, but enough to enchant me nonetheless. I continued on to think that perhaps I should begin following the NHL. After all, they exhibit the game at its finest. But it’s a rather strange concept, selecting a team to support when you don’t have the slightest inclination of loyalty to any of the available options. I was thinking about basing my selection on the team with the coolest name (currently I’m between the Buffalo Sabres and Minnesota Wild) but in reality, it’s best for me to wait a couple of weeks and just see who settles at the bottom of the league. It’s best for all involved.
Elsewhere, and vying heavily for a spot in my rundown of depressing sporting news of the week, my favourite Americans Sam Querrey and Mardy Fish fared poorly in the Beijing ATP 500 tournament, Querrey being knocked out by in-form Frenchman Gilles Simon and Fish pulling out prior to his second round clash with Novak Djokovic with an ankle injury. Probably for the best as the Djoker is 5-0 up in the head-to-head statistics against Mardy. Not pretty! Sadly it also means he has withdrawn from the Shanghai Masters this week, so no Fishy action for me for some time to come it seems. I may have to resort to supporting Rafa again. Although he wins most of the time so I don’t think it’s a good idea on account of my fragile constitution and overly realistic expectations of my sporting charges.
The best thing about the weekend’s sport was that as no Premier League or Championship games were taking place, it was physically impossible for Watford or Sunderland to lose. Bonus! On the down side, England are taking on Montenegro in a European Cup qualifier tonight and it’s being televised on terrestrial channels, so I will feel obliged to watch it despite my impassioned vows to the contrary following the World Cup. Oh joy. Hopefully we’ll put in a mediocre performance and scrape a 1-0 victory in a predictable and entirely tame snooze-fest of a match. Any more than that, and I might have to start on the blood pressure medication.
On reflection, despite a pretty uninspiring performance, I did enjoy the evening. My understanding of the game has increased exponentially in the space of a week, the kaleidoscopic action shifting ever so subtley before my very eyes and dissolving into clarity, sort of like a big, cold, 3D magic eye picture. The hyperactive fly effect of the first night was substituted for a spectacle of grace and aggression – by no means a perfect exemplar of the game of ice hockey in general, but enough to enchant me nonetheless. I continued on to think that perhaps I should begin following the NHL. After all, they exhibit the game at its finest. But it’s a rather strange concept, selecting a team to support when you don’t have the slightest inclination of loyalty to any of the available options. I was thinking about basing my selection on the team with the coolest name (currently I’m between the Buffalo Sabres and Minnesota Wild) but in reality, it’s best for me to wait a couple of weeks and just see who settles at the bottom of the league. It’s best for all involved.
Elsewhere, and vying heavily for a spot in my rundown of depressing sporting news of the week, my favourite Americans Sam Querrey and Mardy Fish fared poorly in the Beijing ATP 500 tournament, Querrey being knocked out by in-form Frenchman Gilles Simon and Fish pulling out prior to his second round clash with Novak Djokovic with an ankle injury. Probably for the best as the Djoker is 5-0 up in the head-to-head statistics against Mardy. Not pretty! Sadly it also means he has withdrawn from the Shanghai Masters this week, so no Fishy action for me for some time to come it seems. I may have to resort to supporting Rafa again. Although he wins most of the time so I don’t think it’s a good idea on account of my fragile constitution and overly realistic expectations of my sporting charges.
The best thing about the weekend’s sport was that as no Premier League or Championship games were taking place, it was physically impossible for Watford or Sunderland to lose. Bonus! On the down side, England are taking on Montenegro in a European Cup qualifier tonight and it’s being televised on terrestrial channels, so I will feel obliged to watch it despite my impassioned vows to the contrary following the World Cup. Oh joy. Hopefully we’ll put in a mediocre performance and scrape a 1-0 victory in a predictable and entirely tame snooze-fest of a match. Any more than that, and I might have to start on the blood pressure medication.
No comments:
Post a Comment