TrueBlue4ever

Google lists 14 bowling lanes in Winnipeg, including 5 ten pin spots.

Unfortunate that Taylor had difficulties on his way out. However I’m not sure if a Twitter war is the best medium to air his dirty laundry, especially as a public figure who will likely have to have a broadcasting relationship with another team’s PBP guy when the teams meet.

Halfway there.

One person’s terrorist is another person’s freedom fighter.

The “if we can’t fix everything then we shouldn’t do anything”argument is the cheapest kind of cop out. I’’m all for water/food/shelter improvements, but there is no need to pass the buck on firearm bans and wait until those problems are fixed before tackling this one.

I have changed the title of the thread since some apparently did not read past the headline and misunderstood what I was looking for.

Sean McIndoe did a hilarious write-up of this whole scene in a Grantland article reviewing an old YouTube clip. I’ll put the link to the whole thing here: https://grantland.com/the-triangle/nhl-grab-bag-the-ref-should-be-seen-not-heard/ but one part I loved was the explanation of why the goal counted. At that time the video review could explore how a goal went in (kicked, thrown, high stick, headed, whatever) but the video review guy could only review what the on-ice official requested and not add anything else. So Morel only asked “did the puck cross the line or not?” and the video guy couldn’t say anything else. Here is how McIndoe imagined that discussion: “OK, so here’s what actually happened: It turns out the replay booth could only rule on whether the puck entered the net, not how it went in. Once they determined it was across the line, the rest was up to Morel, who’d somehow missed Emerson’s toss. • I would have loved to have overheard that conversation, as the replay guy desperately tried to tip Morel off without overstepping his authority: Morel: OK, so the puck did cross the line? Replay guy: Well, on the one hand, yes. But on the other hand … Morel: OK, so it’s a goal, got it. Replay guy: Look, I’m just going to toss this out there, but maybe you could … Morel: I’m going to let the players know, thanks. Replay guy: Really? Because I would glove to discuss this further … [dial tone] … He’s a dead man.” I was at this game too, and with no in-house replay except for the small TVs in the corners, it was hard to make out in live action what happened. Thought Emerson just got tangled up with Belfour crashing the net and the debate was goalie interference. Thought the Hawks were silly for being so upset. Then got home and saw the highlights and said to myself “Oh. Yeah, I would have been supremely pissed too.” That incident actually led to changing the goal review rules and establishing a central war room in Toronto.

Very good article from Murat Ates in The Athletic about Josh Morrissey dealing with his dad’s cancer and eventual death last season. Too long to copy and post, and the link won’t get you through the firewall, but here is a small except. Just to give another perspective on hardass bad cop Blake Wheeler and the locker room problems he as a leader is responsible for: “Josh Morrissey spent the 2021 NHL season knowing each game he played might be the last one his dad ever saw. When the last game came — Winnipeg’s 3-2 loss to Montreal, completing a jarring Canadienssweep — Morrissey was alone in his knowledge of what it meant. When the handshakes were over and Morrissey returned to his Bell Centre stall, he couldn’t bring himself to change out of his gear. One by one, his teammates took off their jerseys and equipment to get ready for the flight home. But Morrissey didn’t move. He slumped in his stall, equipment still on long after the final buzzer. Morrissey had shared the news of his dad Tom’s brain cancer with as small a social support network as possible. Jets leadership knew. The men with letters knew. But most of Morrissey’s teammates did not… ……When Tyler Toffoli won Game 4 in overtime, completing the sweep, Morrissey was overwhelmed by his emotions. “Sometimes, you don’t realize how much something’s weighing on you,” Morrissey says. “I’m not a big crier most of the time but it just all came out. I couldn’t really stop it. It was just so, so much. I think it was the weight of the entire year. Ever since he was diagnosed, not once did I have the option — in my mind — to not be strong for him. That was the first time that it all came out.” Blake Wheeler was one of a very small number of people who understood the full extent of Morrissey’s pain. The 6-foot-5 Jets captain, well-known for his curmudgeonly affectation with the media, recognized his teammate’s distress. He approached Morrissey at his stall. “He’s a big guy — he’s a lot bigger than me — and he just grabbed me. It’s emotional for me even talking about it right now. I’ll never forget it. He just gave me a big hug. I was almost squirming away and he just swallowed me up with his hug and just stayed there with me for a few minutes,” says Morrissey. “I’ll never forget Wheels giving me that hug and saying, ‘He’ll be so proud of you.’” The years between Morrissey, 27, and Wheeler, 35, allows Morrissey to look up to his captain as much as a mentor as a good friend. He says Wheeler would do anything for his teammates, including giving him a hug that no one else would have known he needed. He also says Wheeler would hate to have this story told. “I haven’t talked about this once, actually,” says Morrissey. “I haven’t told this story. It’s emotional for me. Just what it meant for Wheeler as a friend and as a captain. It meant the world to me.” The hug ended. Wheeler returned to his stall while Morrissey stayed frozen in his. More time passed. Eventually, everyone cleared out of the Jets dressing room. That’s when Morrissey dug out his phone and went back to his stall, still wearing all of his equipment, still thinking about his dad. “I wouldn’t take my gear off,” Morrissey says. “I felt bad for the trainers but it just felt like as soon as I took my gear off, the game was officially over. So I called him.” “

Jets certainly getting their offensive looks. Igor S. really dialled in in the Ranger net.

I only joined in the second period but the pace has seemed decent since then.

No problem. Wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not. They certainly have not showed up at the rink for the start of a number of games this season. No word on the goalies from what I have looked for. Not sure if the call-up is Helle or Comrie related.

Hopefully the Jets show up in MSG and not in New Jersey.

It was another approach to finding a new revenue stream for the league, trying to tap into the European and Mexican markets. Of the players are not good enough, then it probably is pointless to keep the initiative around, unless the BOG sees TV and as revenue and global exposure increasing because of it, regardless of the quality of the player.

Here’s the thing though. If his “development” is such that he is still the 46th best on the 46 man roster, the. He hasn’t really developed. If he is better than other “internationals” then pay him accordingly and cut the lesser player. It actually won’t hinder the development of the global market because it forces the team to scout and find another global player who then draws more eyes to the game. Increasing the global salary actually allows teams to just keep the bare minimum of global players on hand and not expand their global base. If the global player is no good, then he gets replaced by another global at minimum cost. If he is good enough, then he should be ready-categorized as an international and get paid accordingly, the team then cuts its worst “international” in favour of him, and the team should continue to develop the global plan by bringing in a new face in that category.

Sorry if my description was unclear. These are moments you were there in person to see. Not live on TV, or most amazing moments ever seen in sports on replay, but something you saw live on person. Unless you did see all of these on location, in which case wow you have travelled well and been present for some pretty amazing moments.

That’s pretty cool! Any back story? What led you to be there?

I’ll leave that to the mods to decide. But figured it would probably have a bunch of Bomber moments in it given the demographic of this site, and would reach more eyes in this thread.

True that. But perhaps I should have clarified with “most amazing PUBLIC moment seen live”. Unless you sold tickets or shot a video to post on the web. Both of which I’m sure your wife would have loved. 🤣

Yes, I’m sure that irresponsible business strategy is how he amassed his fortune which allowed him to afford a pro sports team. Where’s an eye roll emoji when you need one?

Or overestimating Wolitarsky.

Well there is also this option. Just the guy who can claim maybe the greatest play in Blue Bomber history.

Thought about this topic after Mike Bossy’s passing, watching the fans react to his “50 in 50” moment and re-living Teemu’s rookie season in my mind. Also appropriate with Mike Gray in the kickoff countdown today and his “Immaculate Interception”. So the question today for the board: What is the most incredible thing you have seen in person? And obviously, the more limited the opportunity to see it (being one of the twelve people to see Earth from the surface of the moon would be a high bar to match) the more impressive. It can go beyond just Bombers or even sports (I had a college classmate who was in Florida as an 8 year old and witnessed the Challenger shuttle explosion from the grandstands), but I figured since many will involve the Bombers this was the place to put this post. My top 5 off the top of my head (I am sure I’ve forgotten a big one somewhere): Runners-up: 1997 flood - living inside city limits but in a low-lying area that was completely evacuated. Could never fathom that the river could get that high, especially with the floodwaters in place, or that south of the city was one giant ocean. Not exciting but just surreal to see that level of flooding. Halley’s Comet - nothing shocking, and something very common for pretty much anyone who was around, but it is almost certainly a once in a lifetime event, so glad I did not miss it. 5. Milt 4 catches 4 TD’s - the definition of unstoppable. 4. 2019 West Final - went to Sask and still trying to process the last 3 minutes of that classic, right down to the crossbar. 3. 2021 Grey Cup - the first time I have ever seen “my” team (be it Bombers, Jets, Moose, Goldeyes, Jays, Raptors, or Team Canada) win the championship game in person. 2. Dunigan’s 713 game: it was near the end of the second quarter when l got the sense we were going to see a record smashed that day. Fans all around me trying to add up the numbers as we all admired the spectacle, knowing this was an “I was there as it happened” moment unfolding. 1. Teemu breaks the rookie record - I was at the game against the North Stars where he potted 4 to get to 51. I ran to the box office right after the game to get tickets to the next game against Quebec because it was clear he was going to will himself to break the record at that game and I was not going to miss the chance to see it in person. Kind of like rooting for Bossy, or McGwire’s home run chase, these are events where the player rises to such an unreal level of performance that breaking the record becomes inevitable, even in an “any given Sunday” world. Loudest I have ever heard the arena in person, including any playoff game. My big miss - Stegall’s TD record. Season tickets for 40 years, yet I was on holidays in Halifax when this moment happened against the Tiger-Cats. Rats.

Here is a copy of the article so you can avoid the paywall. And given bb1’s comment about chasing a generational player in next year’s draft and blowing everything up, it puts him anywhere from stage 4 to stage 6. The NHL is a 32-team league with 32 different fan bases, each of which is unique. Some are big, some not so much. Some are more than a century old, some are brand new. Some are spoiled with years of excellence, some have had their ups and downs, and some never seem to get to be happy at all. But there’s one thing every NHL fan has in common: We want our team to win. Sometimes. That’s the reality of being a hockey fan, especially at this time of year. We can throw around all the clichés we want about how winning is everything, but it isn’t, at least not all the time. And depending on circumstances, winning might actually feel like a problem. When that happens, you’ve entered a very controversial zone as a hockey fan. You have to decide if you’ll cross a line, and start rooting for your team to lose. Is that a bad thing? Not necessarily. But it’s a perilous place, one where you want to tread carefully. And since I have some experience in this world, I want to offer you a guide. I’ve prepared a list of the 10 stages of rooting against your own team, so that you can be prepared for what you might face, and for just how deep you want to go. Stage 1: Apathy We’ll ease into our list with a category that doesn’t really involve rooting against your team at all. Instead, at Stage 1, you just stop caring … temporarily. The season isn’t going well and you know it. You also know that one bad year isn’t the end of the world, and that even the best-run teams will go through it eventually. You’re fine with it. You’re just especially interested in watching it all play out. Honestly, this stage can be a pretty reasonable place to be. You’re not bailing on your team. You’re just backing away from committing a ton of time and mental energy to caring about them. You tune out, maybe check back in around the deadline, keep on top of any major developments, and then return to the fold in the offseason, rested and ready to go. The stage makes our list only because it’s often confused with a fan rooting against their own team. But it’s not. You don’t want them to lose, you just don’t really care if they do. Stage 2: Rooting for lottery odds (after playoff elimination) OK, now you want them to lose. But it’s only because they already have, a lot. So much, in fact, that they’ve been mathematically eliminated from playoff contention. At this point, there’s really nothing left to play for aside from lottery odds, and in the NHL, you get those lottery odds by losing. In a perfect world, we’d have the Gold Plan in place and fans could cheer for their teams to win their way to the top pick. But we don’t, and it sounds like we never will, so fans know how this works. Even at this early stage, some fans are too loyal to actually hope their team loses. But most of us understand that the league has decided to embrace a system where losing is better for bad teams. We want what’s best for our team, so we act accordingly, even if only grudgingly. Note: Once you reach this stage, it is 100 percent guaranteed that some random guy will have the game of his life and it will cost your team multiple draft spots, and you’ll kind of hate him for it forever. The key here is that you only root against your team after they’ve been officially eliminated. Until that day comes, anything can happen. You never give up until the math says you have no choice. Stage 3: Rooting for lottery odds (before playoff elimination) OK, according to the math they’re still technically in it, but come on. They’re clearly not going to make the playoffs, and even if they do, they’d only get swept in the first round. That’s not you being cynical — it’s just that you’ve watched this team all season, and you can see that they’re not good enough. Yes, sure, sometimes an underdog will make a miracle run down the stretch, but this team isn’t it, and there’s no point getting your hopes up. The gap between Stage 2 and Stage 3 is a narrow one; there’s a difference between being realistically out of the race and actually being mathematically eliminated, with bad teams sometimes stuck spending weeks in between those two zones. Some fans will insist on staying the course right up until elimination day, but others understand that sometimes you just have to accept reality. Teams like this year’s Canadiensand Coyotes haven’t been technically eliminated yet, but their fans know they’re not making it. So if you were the sort of fan who was willing to bail in Stage 2 anyway, you might as well get a head start. The point is that you were with them all year long, right up until they made it clear this wasn’t going to be their year. It’s not like you turned on them from opening night. Stage 4: Rooting for lottery odds (from opening night) Look, we have to be realists here. Some teams are unexpectedly bad. But some teams are bad by design, or in some cases by misdesign. If you’ve been a fan long enough, you know when it’s going to be one of those years, and there’s no point deluding yourself through October and November before accepting the obvious. These guys are bad, there’s a great prospect waiting for you at the draft, so let’s just get to losing. Often, this stage involves obvious tank jobs, like the great Sabres/Coyotes battle for Connor McDavid in 2014-15 that worked out so well for everyone. If your team’s management has sent obvious signals that they’re trying to lose, well, you root for the result your team wants, right? Nothing worse than watching a well-designed tank job go off the rails because of a few lucky wins. There’s no question that this stage can feel icky. It’s one thing to turn against your team when they’ve already lost a ton of games and fallen out of the race. It’s another to do it early, even when your intentions are good. There will be nagging doubt. This stage isn’t for everyone. But if you’ve got the stomach for it, it can be a perfectly reasonable path to take. Stage 5: When you want somebody to get fired Maybe it’s the coach. Maybe it’s the GM. Maybe it’s both of them, or someone else entirely. But somebody needs to be sent packing, and it’s not going to happen if this team keeps fluking out wins that it doesn’t deserve. And yes, this stage sucks. On one level, nobody should want to see anyone lose their job. But this is also pro sports, where getting fired is part of the deal. If your team has the wrong guy in the wrong place and it’s dragging them down, there’s really no other path to take. It’s going to happen eventually, so you might as well get it out of the way now. A nice little losing streak might just seal the deal, and pave the way to a brighter future. Call it an investment. Stage 5 can last for a few games, or it could take most of a season. But it’s always temporary, and it ends as soon as the pink slips start flying. The moment the new guy takes over, you can go right back to cheering on your team. Let’s never speak of this again. Stage 6: When you want the roster to get blown up The more complicated cousin of Stage 5, this one has the same basic premise. Things are bad, you know they’re not going to be fixed until there’s no other choice, and so you have to root for them to get worse. The problem here is that old sports cliché: It’s always easier to fire the coach (or GM) than to trade the whole roster. That’s especially true in today’s NHL, where we’re told that trades are impossible, especially during the season. When you’re at Stage 5 and just want one guy to be fired, any day can be the day that snaps you out of it. Some insider reports that a change is being made, the press conference gets called, and you’re back on the bandwagon by the end of the day. With Stage 6, you’re never really sure how much change is enough. One trade? Two? It’s going to take more than that, but you’re not sure how many moves you need before you’ll feel like it’s worth returning to the fold. Whatever that number is, the team isn’t good. You know it. Other realistic fans know it. But management doesn’t know it, or at least isn’t willing to admit it, and that won’t change unless the losses start piling up, so that’s what needs to happen. It’s for their own good. Stage 7: When you realize you kind of hate these guys This is the more extreme version of Stage 6, and the difference between them can seem subtle. In Stage 6, you want changes because the team keeps losing and you don’t like losing. In Stage 7, you want changes because you don’t like them. The team is bad, sure, but so is the vibe. You’re just kind of done with this team, at least this particular iteration of it. Sometimes, you’ll reach this stage because of something specific. Maybe you’ve finally realized the other fans are right and these guys are a bunch of dirty cheap shot artists. Maybe you’ve heard a few too many of the same excuses trotted out in the postgame. There could be some controversy involving fans, or a bigger social issue, or the media. It could be something approaching all of the above. Somewhat weirdly, it’s possible to reach this stage even when a team’s record says they’re playing well. (Ask any current Leaf fan what will happen if they lose in the first round again.) You might arrive at this stage when a team has been stubbornly staying the course for years, and you hit a tipping point where you just want them all gone. It can be a progression through the other stages, or in the case of some sort of major scandal like this year’s Blackhawks’ story, a rapid ascent. The key is that Stage 6 isn’t personal. Stage 7 very much is. You’re sick of this team, you want everyone out, and you’re not going to root for them until it happens. Stage 8: Apathy, part two This is what comes next when you hit Stage 7 but nothing changes. There really isn’t anywhere else to go. You used to hate these guys, but hatred at least meant you still cared. Now you can’t even muster that. You raged against the machine, nothing happened, and now you’re done. Make no mistake: Despite the similar names, there’s virtually nothing connecting this stage to Stage 1. Back then you stopped paying attention, but it was always going to be temporary. You’re well beyond that at Stage 8; it’s a far darker place to be. You’re pretty close to being done. If you reach this stage, your fandom is at a critical moment. If something doesn’t change very soon, this might be it. Stage 9: You quit The natural progression from Stage 8. You’re done. There’s not much more to say. Hopefully, you gave your team plenty of chances. Stage 9 should never be a rash decision. But at some point, enough is enough. Life is too short to make yourself miserable, or to let a pro sports team do it for you. In theory, reaching this stage means you’re no longer rooting against your team, because you don’t care anymore. But in reality, anyone who gets this far doesn’t want their team to win without them. Imagine being a Red Sox fan who bailed after the Aaron Boone homer in 2003. Nobody wants to be the fan who’s pounding on the doors of a bandwagon they just abandoned, desperately begging to be let back on. A truly noble fan would leave quietly, wishing those that are staying behind the best. It should go without saying that none of us are noble. If we’re leaving, we want to toss a match over our shoulder as we go. And taken to an extreme, that can lead us to our final stage … Stage 10: Actively wanting to see just how bad it can get (aka Sicko Mode) Not to be confused with these guys, the fan who’s managed to get all the way to Stage 10 is truly disturbed. They’re not even really a fan anymore, at least in the way we think of the term. They’ve transcended that experience. Their team has spent years, maybe decades, force-feeding them angst and misery, so much so that now it’s all they know how to consume. It’s what they feed off of now. And they want more. Oh, the team has a new franchise player? Let’s see him tear his ACL. They’ve made the playoffs? Let’s blow a 3-0 series lead. A can’t-miss prospect who’s absolutely guaranteed to become the greatest hockey player ever? Lifetime deal in the KHL, baby. The owner is a hopeless moron? Have him name himself coach and GM. No matter how bad it gets, it needs to get worse. So much worse. These people are depraved. They’re also extremely rare. Oh sure, many fans might spend brief amounts of time as a Sicko Mode tourist, but very few ever stick around permanently. You might think you’re there now, but you’re probably not. And that’s a good thing, because it means you can still be redeemed. There’s still good in you. There’s hope, somewhere, even if it’s hard to find. There’s always hope for an NHL fan. Until you reach Stage 10. And if you do, may the hockey gods have mercy on what used to be your soul.

So here’s a fun article on the stages of rooting against your team. What stage is everyone at? https://theathletic.com/3144334/2022/02/23/down-goes-brown-the-10-stages-of-rooting-against-your-own-team/