November
The Turning Point
"It seems like we don't know what to do in certain situations -- myself included." -- Joe Corvo
By November, the optimism of a fresh season had faded into the dull knowledge that as it was, this team was startlingly incomplete. In the first half, the Senators had settled into a very predictable trend of losing: incomplete efforts in defense and offense; spurts of goals, and then one unfortunate goal let in by Gerber and that was the game. There was a feedback loop that resonated in the ~15 games in our losing stream:
The team needed confidence to win, and to win they needed confidence. We couldn't win when the opponent scored first. Through a month, we'd yet to mount a come-back.
Gerber was incapable of either task.
Our power-play could barely keep the puck in the opposition zone.
This all changed in the exact middle of November, on Wednesday 15 November, in a game that was televised on TSN and in case you thought it was a fluke, it happened again three days later on Saturday 18 November.
Up to this point, the Senators didn't trust each other. Players would over-commit and communication was sparse and unhelpful. Teammates weren't trusted, coaches weren't trusted and pretty soon, I think they had us all believing that they just weren't a good team. The media sure believed it: Daniel Alfredsson was rumoured to be in a trade to L.A., when it turned out that the so-called Kings scouts were simply accountants looking for a good time.
At the same time, the Buffalo Sabres, up to that point, had only lost once in their season thus far. The playoff euphoria propelled them to stomp all over the Eastern Conference in the first month and a half and most nights, they were simply untouchable. And the Senators? Washed-up, done, our window of opportunity slammed shut. Pierre McGuire called us heartless, greedy bums while he sighed every time Daniel Briere touched the puck. Glenn Healy's self-important smirk could be heard in his voice. Those bastards.
If the Senators didn't want to be humiliated by the Buffalo Sabres, they had to buy into the system that Bryan Murray was trying to implement. It was a more conservative system that relied on a low, cycling game -- erm, a simpler game that didn't depend on individual creativity.
The Senators did what any good team does, eventually -- copy New Jersey.
The desire to avoid humiliation by the NHL's best team and the collective memory of the embarrassment of previous year's playoff loss pushed the Senators to finally trust the coach's tactics. It marked the emergence of the Senators we would see in the playoffs: hard, down-low cycling, the forwards' commitment to defense and a simple power-play setup marked by lots of stick-to-stick passes and Redden point shots.
Certain milestones of your life will bring doubt. It's not unusual. Are you good enough for this? Can you get over a breakup? Can you be by yourself, in some strange, lonely place and remember who you are?
And that's exactly what this game meant for the Senators -- a confirmation of who they were, or who they weren't anymore. Nobody had to say anything. When another team's accountants attend a game and the media interprets it as a potential trade for your beloved captain ... nothing, absolutely nothing, is stable.
So on the 15th of November, the Senators beat the Sabres in a comeback.
They went up 1-0, we tied them, with a shot from Chris Neil, who started his improbable streak of scoring few goals with impeccable timing.
They went up 2-1, we tied them again, via a power-play that was, for a while, actually costing us goals.
The winning goal came, as it always does, with a little bit of luck: Schaefer's goal was reviewed, and the trajectory of the puck was determined to be ... legal.
After the game, faith cracked through the hard artifice of the Senators; Chris Phillips smiled for the first time in a month as he scored the empty netter. It was beautiful for everyone.
-
By that time, Emery's wrist had already been injured in practice. It was not unusual to see him hobbling around Scotiabank Place, his wrist taped up or even in a cast. What else could Emery do? What else could we do? Gerber was not an option.
-
In the end,
we became ourselves again, it seemed -- Spezza's giggling no longer seemed inappropriate, Corvo's brutal honestly was no longer so devastating. The foundation for the season had been set. The idea of overcoming despite great deficits, had taken root. And once ideas take root, they are difficult to supplant.
The Turning Point
"It seems like we don't know what to do in certain situations -- myself included." -- Joe Corvo
By November, the optimism of a fresh season had faded into the dull knowledge that as it was, this team was startlingly incomplete. In the first half, the Senators had settled into a very predictable trend of losing: incomplete efforts in defense and offense; spurts of goals, and then one unfortunate goal let in by Gerber and that was the game. There was a feedback loop that resonated in the ~15 games in our losing stream:
The team needed confidence to win, and to win they needed confidence. We couldn't win when the opponent scored first. Through a month, we'd yet to mount a come-back.
Gerber was incapable of either task.
Our power-play could barely keep the puck in the opposition zone.
This all changed in the exact middle of November, on Wednesday 15 November, in a game that was televised on TSN and in case you thought it was a fluke, it happened again three days later on Saturday 18 November.
Up to this point, the Senators didn't trust each other. Players would over-commit and communication was sparse and unhelpful. Teammates weren't trusted, coaches weren't trusted and pretty soon, I think they had us all believing that they just weren't a good team. The media sure believed it: Daniel Alfredsson was rumoured to be in a trade to L.A., when it turned out that the so-called Kings scouts were simply accountants looking for a good time.
At the same time, the Buffalo Sabres, up to that point, had only lost once in their season thus far. The playoff euphoria propelled them to stomp all over the Eastern Conference in the first month and a half and most nights, they were simply untouchable. And the Senators? Washed-up, done, our window of opportunity slammed shut. Pierre McGuire called us heartless, greedy bums while he sighed every time Daniel Briere touched the puck. Glenn Healy's self-important smirk could be heard in his voice. Those bastards.
If the Senators didn't want to be humiliated by the Buffalo Sabres, they had to buy into the system that Bryan Murray was trying to implement. It was a more conservative system that relied on a low, cycling game -- erm, a simpler game that didn't depend on individual creativity.
The Senators did what any good team does, eventually -- copy New Jersey.
The desire to avoid humiliation by the NHL's best team and the collective memory of the embarrassment of previous year's playoff loss pushed the Senators to finally trust the coach's tactics. It marked the emergence of the Senators we would see in the playoffs: hard, down-low cycling, the forwards' commitment to defense and a simple power-play setup marked by lots of stick-to-stick passes and Redden point shots.
Certain milestones of your life will bring doubt. It's not unusual. Are you good enough for this? Can you get over a breakup? Can you be by yourself, in some strange, lonely place and remember who you are?
And that's exactly what this game meant for the Senators -- a confirmation of who they were, or who they weren't anymore. Nobody had to say anything. When another team's accountants attend a game and the media interprets it as a potential trade for your beloved captain ... nothing, absolutely nothing, is stable.
So on the 15th of November, the Senators beat the Sabres in a comeback.
They went up 1-0, we tied them, with a shot from Chris Neil, who started his improbable streak of scoring few goals with impeccable timing.
They went up 2-1, we tied them again, via a power-play that was, for a while, actually costing us goals.
The winning goal came, as it always does, with a little bit of luck: Schaefer's goal was reviewed, and the trajectory of the puck was determined to be ... legal.
After the game, faith cracked through the hard artifice of the Senators; Chris Phillips smiled for the first time in a month as he scored the empty netter. It was beautiful for everyone.
-
By that time, Emery's wrist had already been injured in practice. It was not unusual to see him hobbling around Scotiabank Place, his wrist taped up or even in a cast. What else could Emery do? What else could we do? Gerber was not an option.
-
In the end,
we became ourselves again, it seemed -- Spezza's giggling no longer seemed inappropriate, Corvo's brutal honestly was no longer so devastating. The foundation for the season had been set. The idea of overcoming despite great deficits, had taken root. And once ideas take root, they are difficult to supplant.
Labels: buffalo sabres, joe corvo, martin gerber, ray emery, season review
2 Comments:
I miss the imploding Send of the past
Oh memories
That's right,
OH MEMORIES.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home