Read The Best of Down Goes Brown Online
Authors: Sean McIndoe
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Seen any good fights lately? Probably. While recent trends have shown a reduction in fighting, it's still part of the game. Usually it's just two players squaring off, settling their differences and moving on. But every now and then tempers boil over, everyone pairs off, and two teams get a little carried away.
Is fighting good for the game? Maybe not, but there's still nothing quite like a good old-fashioned hockey brawl to get a fan's attention. So join me in a nostalgic look back at some well-known hockey brawls. You know, or else I'll punch you in the head.
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Author's note: This is a post from the DGB archives that was originally published in May 1993.
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Wait, what? A blog archive from almost twenty years ago? That's right. A lot of you kids don't know this, but sports blogging has been around for a long time.
Long before the Internet even existed, die-hard sports fans like me were posting our thoughts for the worldâit was just done a little bit differently than today. For example, back in the day we “blogged” by writing longhand in pen in a spiral notebook. If you wanted to add a photo, you cut one out of a magazine. When you were done, you “posted” your content by taping it to your front window. If other people liked your work, they would “link” to it by drawing an arrow pointing to your house and taping it to their own window.
Not many people noticed what you wrote, but occasionally somebody would wander by and read a few words. Then they'd usually roll their eyes, ring your doorbell, wait for you to open the door, and then drag you into the street to beat you up. So in that sense, not much has changed.
So let's travel back to one of the most famous games in NHL history. It's May 27, 1993, and the Toronto Maple Leafs are in Los Angeles to play the Kings in game six of the Western Conference final. The Leafs hold a 3â2 series lead and are one win away from meeting the Montreal Canadiens in the Stanley Cup final.
A young DGB, notebook in hand, was live blogging every moment. We'll pick up the action late in the third period, with the Leafs trailing 4â3.
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It would have been nice for them to get some rest during this run, but then again, what's the league supposed to doâstart taking a week off in the middle of the playoffs for no reason? Good luck sustaining any interest if you did that.
I guess what I'm saying is I don't see the Habs beating either one of these teams in the final unless something miraculous happens.
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(Author's note: The notebook's next few pages are stuck together. Skipping ahead a bit.)
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Mark my words: The Leafs are winning this game in overtime on their first even-strength shift.
Now look, some Leaf fans are going to complain about a penalty being handed out this late in a crucial game. But I'm going to defend the referee, whoever that happens to be tonight. What Anderson did is a penalty. Period. It's right there in the rulebook. And you have to call it, even if it's an important game. Nay, you have to call it
because
it's an important game. The rules are the rules, and you can't ignore them just because you have to make an unpopular call.
Imagine how he feels right now. With 20,000 fans in the building and millions more watching on TV, he's been handed a chance to make one of the toughest calls in league history. This is the moment that every official in every sport dreams of. This
exact moment
is why you pick up that whistle in the first place.
I guess what I'm trying to say is this: For the rest of hockey history, whenever you hear the phrase “Referee who stares down the biggest call of his career and chokes on his whistle,” you will immediately think, “The exact opposite of Kerry Fraser.”
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(Author's note: That goes on for several dozen pages. I'm just going to skip ahead.)
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Look, I understand what's happening here. Kerry Fraser just refused to call an obvious penalty that could have helped send the Leafs to a historic showdown with the Canadiens for the Stanley Cup. I see what you're doing, and I know where this is going. I know the Leafs are going to lose this game now. Every Leaf fan knows it. In fact, there's really no reason to string us along. You might as well just have the goal happen right now.
But first, just one request: Have it be somebody other than Gretzky who scores, OK? Anyone but the guy who still has Dougie's blood on his stick. That's not too much to ask, is it?
I'm so young and full of hope right now. My whole life as a hockey fan is spread out before me. So much optimism. So much possibility. And I can't help but feel like this could be a turning point, hockey gods. If you let Gretzky score right here, I'm going to have to go ahead and assume that you hate Leaf fans and want us to suffer forever. And I don't know if I could handle that.
But I do know this: I really don't want to turn into some bitter, burnt-out Leaf fan who rants about things that happened a generation ago in a way that starts off funny but gradually just makes everyone around him uncomfortable. Don't let that happen to me, hockey gods. Please.
Just not Gretzky. Anyone but Gretzky.
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(Author's note: The next few entries are hard to read. I must have spilled a glass of water on them or something.)
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But I'm not going to let this get me down. After all, I still have a lot going for me. The Blue Jays continue to dominate against smaller markets like Boston. Letterman's new show will debut soon and wipe Leno off the air for good. And
Chinese Democracy
should be out by the end of the year.
And most important of all: There's still game seven, Saturday night at the Gardens. The Leafs still have a shot. They may win. They may lose. But they still have a shot.
And I'll tell you this much: Wayne Gretzky just used up a lifetime's worth of luck tonight. If he's going to be a factor in game seven, he better be ready to play the best game of his career. Because if there's any justice left in the hockey world, his days of fluke goals are over.
Leafs in seven, baby. They're winning this series, and then they're beating the Habs. The dynasty begins now. The Maple Leafs are winning the Stanley Cup.
Because, man ⦠God help me if they don't.