Tag Archive: Sports Opinion

  1. Gutman: Hockey seniors should be proud

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    Any discussion of this year’s men’s hockey season has to begin by recognizing what an extraordinary team this group of guys proved to be. They are, with the possible exception of the 1952 team, the best team in the history of Yale hockey.

    This group of seniors is one of the most successful classes in Yale’s history and saw the team go from eighth place as freshmen to back-to-back ECAC champions in just four years. Everyone who stepped on the ice for Yale this year should be proud of a season that firmly entrenched Yale as a player on the national hockey stage, and this year’s seniors should recognize what their sacrifice and hard work has done for Yale hockey.

    Looking specifically at this past weekend, not one player should hang his head. Against North Dakota, the entire roster played with speed and put together one of the most complete games Yale hockey has played in recent years. In the Boston College game, there was no quit in the Bulldogs. Captain and defenseman Ryan Donald ’10 and the rest of the troops showed what it meant to “never say die,” coming back from a 9–4 deficit to make top-seeded BC sweat during the last couple minutes.

    The one man who will come under fire, however, is head coach Keith Allain ’80. When the team wins he gets all the credit and when it loses he takes the blame, such is the nature of coaching. But whether or not you agree with Allain’s puzzling goalie decisions over the weekend, he should still receive more credit than blame. Even if you think he might have put the wrong guys in the wrong situation, he still presided over this historic season, pushing enough correct buttons to get this team not only into the tournament, but in a position to possibly win an NCAA Tournament second-round game against Boston College.

    Did any of us think that Yale would have a great shot at making the Frozen Four four years ago? Probably not. Did we think Yale was a championship contender at the beginning of the season? We certainly hoped so, but most fans realized that there were still many mountains this team would have to climb. Did anyone think Yale still had a shot to reach the Frozen Four after Brown defeated Yale in the ECAC quarterfinals and the team was struggling to find its offensive identity following the loss of right winger Sean Backman ’10? Yes. The team did. And Coach Allain deserves credit for that.

    Whether or not you think Yale would have won the North Dakota game with someone else in goal, Allain still made a decision, and the team won. Whether or not you think one led to the other, the decision and the win are connected, and the coach deserves the credit (well, whatever’s left after congratulating the players on their unbelievable work). And let’s not minimize the role of goaltender Ryan Rondeau ’11 who, after going roughly four months without appearing in a game, came out of nowhere to make a whopping 34 saves on 36 shots. There should be no question that Rondeau was one of the main reasons Yale won the game.

    The riverboat-gambling Allain was rewarded for his gutsy decision to start Rondeau on Saturday, but his luck clearly ran out against BC.

    Before evaluating Allain’s merits, let’s at least discuss why his use of goalies in the Boston College game is questionable at best. He put three different goalies in difficult situations. The fact that Yale let up nine goals really should fall more on the coach, for asking the still-rusty Ryan Rondeau and “cold” (meaning they came off the bench without warming up) Billy Blase ’10 and Jeff Malcolm ’13 to shut down a prolific offense.

    Rondeau played phenomenally in the North Dakota game, but the fact is that Allain did not give him sufficient game time over the past few months to expect consistent superb play from his talented goalie. Bad position for talented goalie No. 1.

    Blase came off the bench in the middle of the second period, not at the start of the it. He was thrust into a furious BC attack having not warmed up in over an hour and not having had the period break to get himself prepared. The same thing happened to Malcolm, who was inserted with about 16 minutes remaining in the third period. Those were bad spots for talented goalies No. 2 and No. 3. So don’t try to put too much blame on the guys between the pipes, because Allain, a former goalie himself, will tell you how difficult it can be to jump off the bench and into the goal crease “cold.”

    At the end of the day, there are reasons for fans to question Allain. But there’s no reason to.

    Allain turned this team around, and led them to two consecutive ECAC championships in an unbelievably short period of time. He made a shockingly gutsy call that ultimately directly contributed to Yale’s first tournament win in 58 years. Allain led this team to inspired comeback after inspired comeback against BC. While Yale ultimately fell short of advancing to the Frozen Four, the fact that some are disappointed about missing the Frozen Four shows just how much Allain has done for this program.

    Once upon a time, an ECAC tournament victory was a big deal. Even after this year’s ECAC tournament, most pundits said Yale didn’t have a shot to beat the talented North Dakota team. But thanks to Allain, this year’s seniors leave with a tournament win on their resume, and the next couple years’ freshman classes might be competitive with teams like North Dakota.

    There truly is no blame to assign to the coach, the goalies or anyone else for what is probably Yale hockey’s best season ever.

    Seniors Donald, Backman, Tom Dignard, Mark Arcobello and Blase did one heck of a job turning the Yale program into a winner during their time in Blue. But in Allain’s hands, Yale’s talented roster looks poised to have another great season next year, with talent and size up front, an experienced defensive corps and a stable of promising goalies.

    As the class of 2011 picks up the torch and begins to lead this team, the class of 2010 can depart knowing they’ve changed Yale hockey for the better, and its impact on this school won’t soon be forgotten. Thank you seniors, fellow members of the class of 2010.

    Collin Gutman is a senior in Pierson College.

  2. Song: A guide to being a fan

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    Dear Toronto Raptors: I QUIT.

    That’s how my letter to the Toronto Raptors went after they went 0–4 on a West Coast road trip and lost nine of their last 10 games. I quit on them just like they’ve quit on me in effort, heart and any recognizable standards of team basketball over the course of the last decade. For more reasons why I quit, please see my Facebook note titled “Dear Toronto Raptors: I quit.”

    (Aside: I’m serious. Go read my note. Now. And if you’re not Facebook friends with me, please feel free to friend-request me, especially if you’re a single female.)

    Now, I know what you’re saying. “Wait a second, John, aren’t you the one that’s always championing the fan cause? Aren’t you the one who’s always telling us to show up to games and support our teams?”

    That’s all true. I am as crazy about fandom as I am about this season of “Dancing with the Stars.” (Btdubs, have you seen this season of “Dancing with the Stars?” Erin Andrews, Pamela Anderson, and a trim and fit Kate Gosselin of “Jon & Kate Plus Eight” infamy are all participating “Stars.”)

    However, I’m also a firm believer in a team earning the fan’s loyalty and respect. After undergoing knee surgery to fix my ACL over spring break, I was essentially tied to my bed and TV, watching endless hours of poopy movies and sports. You know what team earned my respect? That’s right — Cornell.

    For those of you trapped under your Cold War library of books, the NCAA men’s basketball tournament is on. Now, our great and storied Ivy League may have many things, but success in March Madness has never been one of them.

    Until now.

    As the first Ivy League team to advance to the Sweet Sixteen since Penn in 1979, Cornell has displayed a passion, heart and determination that’s got the entire country talking about the Big Red. Their guys genuinely like each other: Apparently they live in a big 14-bedroom house together off-campus, and they have been kicking butt in historical ways for the past week. As an Ivy Leaguer, not only did Cornell’s on-the-court success give me more street cred than T.I.’s jail time, but it also gave me a swelling of pride that Stalin would’ve been proud of. Plus, they’ve got a guy on their team that can speak five languages and do a Rubix cube in under two minutes! What’s not to like? I unabashedly rooted for Cornell over the weekend as the Big Red advanced to the Sweet 16, and posted status updates adoring them like a 12-year old girl for Zac Effron. Cornell was my team. (No offense Yale basketball.)

    And that got me thinking. At what point is it OK for a fan to turn tail and/or root for a new team? If you’ve been contemplating that question too, then your friendly neighborhood John Song has the answer for you. For the first time in News’ history, I will be providing you with the Sports Fan’s Almanac (SFA). For as long as I write this column, I will continually add and/or amend the Almanac as I see fit. Today, the section that we will be exploring from the SFA will be the section detailing Fan Desertion and Fan Polygamy.

    Fan Desertion (n.): The acquittal of a fan from a team for which he or she was rooting.

    There are some simple rules concerning fan desertion:

    1) In order even to contemplate fan desertion, your team must be so sorry that it consistently displays little to no effort, causes you mental and physical pain, and makes you cry on occasion to a level similar to the first time you viewed “The Notebook” or the “You Belong With Me” video by Taylor Swift.

    2) You had to have been a suffering fan of that team for X amount of the length of time you had been interested in that sport.

    For example, if I’m a Patriots fan who only came into being in the Tom Brady era and I’m pooped that the 18–1 season was followed up by a heaping platter of pupu, then that is not legitimate cause for desertion. Stop whining, you goober.

    3) You are not allowed to return to that team for two years and are also not allowed to jump on the bandwagon should that team catch fire immediately or within two years of your acquittal. Otherwise, you’d just be a bad quitter.

    Now, our second SFA topic.

    Fan Polygamy (n.): Rooting for or having an active interest in more than one team in a sport in which you currently rabidly root for one team.

    Rules for Fan Polygamy eligibility:

    1) Your team must be undergoing a breakdown of comparable mass to qualify for potential fan desertion.

    In other words, if you were the previously mentioned gooberific Patriots fan, you’re not allowed to suddenly switch over to the Jacksonville Jaguars just because God’s Other Son AKA Tim Tebow is going to be drafted. Get in line with us long-suffering Jaguars fans first.

    2) The team to which you are now attracted exhibits at least two-thirds the number of qualities you found lacking in your other team.

    For the purposes of this example, let’s assume that NCAA basketball and the NBA are essentially the same. My (former) Toronto Raptors failed to display any semblance of heart, effort or teamwork, all leading to a horrible season that makes me feel bad about myself and destroys my confidence with the ladies. Cornell, on the other hand, exhibits heart, effort and teamwork, in addition to winning in a historic fashion that makes me feel great about myself. Even though my confidence with the ladies is still shot, Cornell has corrected four of my five gripes with the Toronto Raptors. I can polygamy away!

    And that’s pretty much it for this edition of the Sports Fan’s Almanac. Being a fan is hard work, and a team should deserve you. It’s just like dating — you’ve just gotta find the right fit. Don’t be afraid to sever ties, and certainly don’t be afraid to explore your other options. Happy fanning!

    Wait … did you just take the equivalent of dating advice from me, someone that’s as experienced with the ladies as Cookie Monster is with the concept of a diet? You might want to rethink your strategy …

    John Song is a junior in Berkeley College.

  3. Timm: Another budget casualty

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    One year ago, I wrote a column about spring break for Yale athletes. I’ll say this much: going back and reading something I wrote a year ago … frightening.

    In any case, I highlighted all of the fantastic reasons why varsity spring sports need long, out-of-region spring break trips to begin their seasons. These included a chance to leave the tundra for warmer weather, the opportunity to play better competition out-of-region, the increased team bonding experiences and, of course, the all-important personal sanity provided by a trip off campus. All of this was meant to be a sort of argument to the powers that hold the purse-strings of Yale Athletics to keep this tradition alive.

    Unfortunately today, although this tradition is still alive, it is not well.

    This year, each of the spring varsity sports will see a large cut in their spring break travel. Teams are only allowed one trip out of region, and many of these trips have been shortened dramatically. For example, the softball team, which used to enjoy a10-day, 12-game, multi-opponent tournament at the Rebel Games in Florida, must now settle for a seven-day, five-game tournament at the Stetson Classic in Florida with only three opponents. Not exactly ideal for an outdoor sport looking for more varied competition and more time in favorable weather.

    Budget cuts are something that the entire university has felt with full force. Obviously, we are living in much more difficult times, and some things must be set aside in favor of the bigger picture.

    But I just don’t buy this argument for spring varsity sports.

    I’m not saying that the spring break trips are the best part of the season. In fact, much of the time, they are the most challenging. The school takes on a liability with out-of-state travel. This mandatory travel prevents these athletes from going home or having a “normal” spring break. The competition is harder and the days are longer.

    But it is precisely all of these things that contribute to the team as a whole and, more importantly, to the season as a whole.

    The most important part of a varsity season is undoubtedly the games against Ivy League opponents. But the build-up to Ivies in the non-conference schedule is crucial to the success of every team. Without the proper preparation, diverse competition and valuable team bonding, it might be difficult for our teams to remain competitive.

    Now, I want to give our teams a little more credit. I’m not saying that the softball team will inevitably crumble because of a few less days in Florida. That’s not my point at all.

    The point is that these teams are being robbed of a key part in their seasons, a time that is not only important to their success, but also important to their overall athletic experiences at Yale.

    Hopefully, our varsity spring sports will overcome any disadvantage this change might bring. But more importantly, I hope that those in charge of the varsity financial distributions will see the importance of this tradition, and we will see change in the future — a little less tundra and a little more bonding time.

    Tracy Timm is a senior in Pierson College.

  4. Goldsmith: Ego tarnishes victory

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    Dear Baset Chaudhry,

    You know you are truly tactless when the “Grinch who stole the 21st Winter Games” (see my last column) lectures you on decorum.

    My aim, Mr. Chaudhry, is not to chastise you for having flexed your ego during your recent match at Yale, against our own Kenneth Chan ’13 — ego is inherent in sports (as well as journalism). I respect you for withdrawing from the individual championships; it was the right thing to do. My question is, where was that sense of shame last Sunday when you tarnished what would have been a great moment for yourself, your team and for the sport of squash as a whole?

    For the purposes of my letter, let me paraphrase Webster’s definition of ego: the organized conscious mediator between the person and reality, especially in the perception of and adaptation to reality. Important to note in this definition is that this mediating function of the ego can be considered “organized” and “conscious.” That seems obvious enough — we have full control, if not awareness of the role that we play in the reality that we construct.

    The sports world offers a particularly colorful variety of egos. This is natural to athletics; there are cameras constantly rolling and inherent to competition is the assertion of yourself over your competitor.

    Shaquille O’Neal, despite perpetually amending his long list of self-anointed nicknames, has displayed a consistent ego; the Diesel, the Big Aristotle, Witness Protection (dare I say Superman?) sees himself as the most dominant big man ever to play in the NBA. Without question, the Shaqtus is one of the most egotistical athletes in the sports world; that said, Baset, his ego, his conscious arbitration between his self and reality, has helped make him a four-time NBA Finals champion, a rapper, an actor, a reserve police officer, a United States Deputy Marshall and an indisputable fan favorite, albeit a horrendous free-throw shooter.

    Baset, as we have yet to meet, I doubt you know what a fantasy football junkie I have been for the last few years. In my third season as manager of teabaggers FC, I was fortunate enough to have one of the league’s top receivers — and top egos — in Cincinatti Bengal’s wideout Chad Ochocinco. Can you believe it, Baset — this guy is so egomaniacal that he changed his legal name from Johnson to Ochocinco, a nickname he adopted due to his jersey number 85! Not only that, his Twitter account (are you on Twitter, Baset?) is constantly referenced in the sports news media for hilarious one-liners and taunts to other players. Ochocinco strongly projects his ego out into the sports community, thriving off of controversy and arrogance at the cost of fines and bad press. Chad Ochocinco is confident in his ego, whether we like it or not.

    Now Baset, I don’t know if you are a college football fan, but I imagine that most in this country would not dare call University of Florida quarterback Tim Tebow a man of ego. Our definition, however, seems to indicate that we are all men and women of ego; our perception and adaptation to reality is our ego. So Tim Tebow, a college senior like you Baset, has placed himself in a reality in which he is a dominant competitor, an inspiring teammate, a devout Christian and a man impressively self-assured in these roles. He may not be as seemingly self-obsessed as Ochocinco or Dr. Shaq (adapted after the Diesel earned his MBA online from the University of Phoenix), but his ego is equally powerful in asserting his own self-understanding to a nation of fans and observers.

    These three fellows have distinguished themselves by their play, and their respective egos have elevated them to superstar status. You too, Baset, have separated yourself from your peers as a two-time singles’ national champion. Having never met you, it is difficult for me to say really what kind of ego you have cultivated in your illustrious squash career, however for myself and others, the only one that really matters is the one you showcased at the team nationals last weekend.

    You flexed your ego in the most natural way you knew how at that given moment. Primordial, instinctual, impulsive and rash, certainly, but for that instant when leaned into your opponent’s face and your own to emit that shriek, you momentarily perceived yourself in a reality in which such boorish behavior was acceptable. Competition may often blur reality, but if Tim Tebow, a man your age, can maintain a glistening PR image throughout four years on college athletics’ largest stage, is your self-conception so uncultivated that the greatest moment in your college career will be forever shrouded in shame? This was your moment, and now you’ll forever be known as “that guy.”

    Every college athlete dreams of being on SportsCenter, and you were! You were on SportsCenter, Baset, not because of your overwhelming dominance during your four years as one of college squash’s undeniable best. You were on SportsCenter for being a jerk.

    Looking at your respective resumes, one might mistake your accomplishments for those of Tebow. But after your classless performance Sunday, I think we can safely say that no one would confuse such a poor sport for the respectable man of equal age. Come on, Baset, you’re educated, you’re experienced, so what were you thinking? I would die to be on SportsCenter, PTI and Around the Horn. These are dreams for athletes like myself that envy your talent. Sure, had you behaved like a college senior should have, I doubt that you would have been mentioned on these ESPN programs, but I don’t think I am alone in saying no press is preferable to Merril Hoge mocking your “verbal spray” and your “buttocks seal block” on an oversized touch-screen.

    So permit this author some ego-flexing of his own. At 6 foot 5 inches, 210 pounds, dimensions that you and I share, you must have felt like a real tough guy getting in the face of, and subsequently shoving a man of not-so-equal stature, your more-than-worthy five-foot-four opponent, Mr. Chan. Having just secured your team the national squash title, that impressive display of your oozing machismo must have really made the moment that much more special.

    Next time you’re in New Haven, Baset, pick on someone your own size.

    Sam Goldsmith is a junior in Branford College.

  5. Song: A proud Canadian (kind of)

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    I love curling. I love skeleton. I love ice dancing.

    There, I said it. I love obscure Olympic sports. I love all the wacky curling lingo, I love hurling yourself head first down an icy chute at over 90 mph and I especially love the way that ice dancers shake their, um … talent.

    Since everything is better with lists, here’s a list of reasons why I love the Olympics:

    1. Blatant xenophobia is accepted and/or encouraged.

    Cold war buff? Hurl insults at the Ruskies. Not mean enough to hate on anybody? You’re Canadian. Not sure where Azerbaijan is? Neither do I, but it’s a great excuse to throw on a Borat accent and hope Azerbaijan is somewhere Middle East-ish (for the record, Wikipedia says that it’s “at the crossroads of Eastern Europe and Western Asia”).

    The point is: you’re allowed to do it and it’s all in the name of patriotism. God bless America.

    2. Weird camera angles.

    As everyday beer-chugging, steak-eating, Wrangler-wearing patriotic Americans, we’re used to the typical football, basketball or baseball angles. Three-quarter side camera angles? Booooring. How about the gravity defying shots of the marsupial ski jumpers trying to imitate flying squirrels? Ever see the shaking of the camera from a luger passing by at Snooki-punch speeds? Or how about my personal favorite, the behind-the-back camera angle (or as I like to call it, the “de-rear” view) — of speed skaters as they launch from the starting line? Tight pants + super tight spandex suits = win for every lonely person watching the Olympics. That’s what I call fun for the whole fraternity — or sorority (I’ve seen you ladies peeking at Apollo Anton “Oooh ya! I’m the winningest speed skater in U.S. history and that’s a totally better pickup line than anything I was using before!”).

    3. Leading the medal count.

    Translation: Being American. Whoooo!!!! Our economy is in the toilet, the rest of the world still hates us and China apparently owns us (literally). But by golly, we’re still pwning the world in something: winter sports that only matter once every four years! Actually, with our recent defeat of Canada in hockey, it’s enough to make us break out in chants of U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S … wait. I can’t continue living a lie any longer.

    I’m Canadian.

    Born in China, I moved to Nebraska (of all places) when I was seven, then moved to Toronto at the age of 10 after our temporary U.S. visas expired. While in Canada, I spent my glorious (super-awkward) pre-/post-pubescent years learning how to be universally nice to everyone you meet, playing hockey and saying “eh” every three seconds (in Canada, we’re taught to use eh instead of punctuation. OK, that’s not true, but if I had told you it was, you would’ve believed me). We became Canadian citizens in order to move to Florida and have been there for the past eight years (it’s a lot easier immigrating to the USA when you’re Canadian than when you’re Chinese. Probably has to do with China owning America and all…).

    Sure, I’ve spent half my life in the States, but apparently, the Department of Homeland Security doesn’t think that’s enough for citizenship. So I’m Canadian only because it made being American easier. I loved my time in Canada, but frankly, up until a week ago, I was about as proud of being Canadian as my Asian parents were of me not being a doctor.

    And then the Olympics came.

    Canada had never won a gold medal on home turf and the entire nation was preoccupied with breaking the home-town jinx. After day one, when (their best hope for a Gold medal) Jenn Heil lost to Yale’s very own (well, kind of) Hannah Kearney in the women’s moguls, a Canadian headline read “Monkey 1, Canada 0.” That pesky primate just wouldn’t get off their backs and a whole nation’s spirits rested on its athletes.

    Remember the disjointed and seemingly hallucinogen-induced opening ceremony filled with spoken word poetry, phallic ice sculptures and Native American dances? The reason why it was so weird is because usually the opening ceremonies are a chance for the host country to showcase their national identity. Canada — a nation without an ego, never one to say an unkind word about anybody, and content to just lumberjack by day, down a pitcher at night — frankly has been struggling to find an identity ever since the Vikings accidentally discovered it. But as the games began, all of Canada united under a singular identity in pursuit of gold.

    When Alexandre Bilodeau moguled for a gold medal on day two, I, along with all of Canada, breathed a sigh of relief, teared up briefly, then reached for a strong drink. (Remember, Connecticut Law states that you must be 21 years of age to consume alcohol.) When the crowd, in unison, stood up to get a stirring rendition of “O Canada” in the ninth end (think of it like an inning — curling matches have 10 ends) of the Great Britain-Canada curling match to root their team to an eventual come-from-behind victory, I had chills run up my spine. When skeleton racer Jon Montgomery celebrated his gold medal run by chugging half of a pitcher of beer that some fan handed him — less than 3 seconds after getting off his sled — it was like Christmas came early. Btdubs, is there anything MORE Canadian than some blue-collar dude getting off a sled, met by a delirious Canadian fan WHO HAPPENED to be holding A FULL PITCHER OF BEER, then swigging half of it down before saluting the fans in triumph? I was a proud Canadian again.

    So you know what? Here’s reason No. 4 of why I love the Winter Olympics: An entire nation, along with me, found a national identity. My name is John Song, and I … am … CANADIAN!

    Well, only until that dual-citizenship thing works out.

    John Song is a junior in Berkeley College.

  6. Gutman: Medal hopes rest on Miller

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    About a month ago, most Americans probably couldn’t name one player on the U.S. Olympic hockey team. Many of the old-guard mainstays like Mike Modano became names of the past in favor of a new core of energetic, young players like David Backes and Ryan Kesler.

    But after Team USA stunned the entire nation of Canada on Sunday night with a triumphant 5–3 victory in preliminary play at the 2010 Winter Olympics, there’s one phrase on the tip of every American sports fan’s tongue this week:

    It’s Miller Time.

    American goalie Ryan Miller might be the best kept secret in America, next to the recipe for Bush’s Baked Beans. Miller might be the best thing in Buffalo, N.Y., other than the Anchor Bar (home of the Buffalo Wing). He is the best hockey goalie on the planet and the only reason the U.S. has a shot at hockey gold in Vancouver.

    The former Michigan State Spartan from East Lansing, Mich., is finally making a name for himself nationally. At 29, Miller is putting together a season that makes him not just a potential gold medalist but also a surefire frontrunner for the Vezina Trophy, awarded to the best NHL goalie. Despite having an offense that is about as reliable as a 1970 Camaro, Miller has singlehandedly willed his Buffalo Sabres into fifth place in the Eastern Conference, solidly in playoff position.

    He’s second in the NHL in both save percentage and goals against average. He’s consistent and spectacular rolled into one.

    Ryan Miller in 2010 is everything Canadian goalie Martin Brodeur was expected to be. Brodeur has long been the backstop of one of the NHL’s stingiest teams, the New Jersey Devils. Brodeur was the hope of Team Canada, their leader on the path to gold. Brodeur was supposed to be the best goalie in the NHL. But Miller, quietly at first, encroached on Brodeur’s lofty perch and, as of Sunday, staked a claim to the title of best goalie in the world.

    Ryan Miller in 2010 is also the fulfillment of a vision. Hockey fans might have predicted in 2006 that the USA would have the best goalie in the 2010 tournament but Miller was not on the radar. Rick DiPietro started in net for the 2006 USA hockey squad in Torino, posting a respectable 2.28 goals against average. In September of that year, the New York Islanders signed him to a whopping 15-year contract. Americans saw the future of their team: The U.S. could rebound from a terrible Torino effort and become a powerhouse by building in front of the rock in the net. But thanks to DiPietro’s series of injuries and Miller’s emergence, the American goaltending situation is as stable as many expected in 2006 — but with a different individual between the pipes.

    So get yourself a six pack, get out your American flag shirts and get ready for Miller Time tonight. America’s medal hopes rest squarely on the shoulders of the Michigan man with Uncle Sam on his facemask. He may just be tied with Lady Gaga and The Situation for the most on-fire celebrity in America right now, but a couple more good games and a gold medal might vault him into Miley Cyrus territory.

    Collin Gutman is a senior in Pierson College.

  7. Golob: Yale’s ‘Miracle on Ice’

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    With less than 12 minutes left in the third period of Saturday night’s men’s hockey game, things were not looking too good for the Bulldogs. No. 5 Yale was down 4–1, the Elis were tiring, and the atmosphere in Ingalls Rink was deflating as the ECAC bottom-dweller Clarkson squad continued to defuse Eli attempts to get back in the game.

    Clarkson netminder Paul Karpowich looked unbeatable and nearly single-handedly kept the Golden Knights in the game with a career-high 51 saves. What seemed to be the decisive moment for Yale rolled around with a 5-on-3 opportunity. The Bulldogs slashed away at the net trying to undo their three-goal deficit. But the Elis could not find the net with the two-man advantage, and the power-play line left the ice visibly frustrated after two minutes.

    All seemed lost for Yale’s hopes of continuing a five-game winning streak and, as I looked around the Whale, I silently willed people to stay and wait out the final minutes of the game. It was a lesson I learned early and one that most people watching the game Saturday also seemed to appreciate — it ain’t over till it’s over.

    I knew from watching, writing and reading about this team over the past four seasons that the Elis were the kind of team capable of making the comeback that ends up being told and retold as months and years go by. That’s what they did last year in the ECAC Championship Tournament in Albany, N.Y., when they scored two goals in 22 seconds with barely a minute and a half left on the clock to shock St. Lawrence in the semifinals. They had also come back from a four-goal third-period deficit against Colgate earlier on in the season before winning in overtime.

    “I think those two games last year definitely helped us this year,” right winger Broc Little ’11 said. “I think it’s just never giving up. We believe we can come back from almost anything.”

    Right defenseman Jimmy Martin ’11 said the team’s ability to play its game consistently has been Yale’s strong point in tough games. The Elis have good speed and the ability to find each other in tough spots on the ice, and that style of play is what makes the difference, players said.

    “I think we’ve jus gotten used to playing within ourselves and within our system and sticking to our system — even if it hasn’t worked for the first 50 minutes,” Martin said.

    The Bulldogs hadn’t repeated such late-game heroics since coming back against Colgate — until Friday night.

    With 7:32 remaining in the third period, the home team kicked off a comeback for the ages. Little crossed the puck to center Mark Arcobello ’10, whose shot deflected to left winger Denny Kearney ’11. Kearney took advantage of the out-of-position Clarkson netminder for a short-range put-back to give the home fans some hope.

    With the crowd back in the game, the Bulldogs were gaining momentum. But the ever present clock reminded them, and the sell-out crowd at the Whale, that a 4–2 score still spelled defeat.

    Thirty-seven seconds later, center Andrew Miller ’13 found left winger Jeff Anderson ’11 on a cross into the crease to narrow the lead to just one with a power play goal.

    By now the Whale was rocking. Everyone, save the Clarkson band and a handful of supporters, was on their feet, and the YPMB’s traditional chorus of “Bulldog Bulldog” was barely audible over the cheering for Anderson’s goal.

    As the goal was still being announced only 14 seconds later, Kearney fought for control of the puck and connected with Little, who flipped the puck up above Karpowich’s left leg to incite bedlam at the rink and tie the game just 51 seconds after Kearney’s tally.

    Little leapt into the air in front of the glass as the Bulldogs celebrated his second goal of the night and the shot that would send them into overtime. The joy on the ice was only matched by the joy in the stands as the cheers grew deafening, the ground shook and the glass rattled.

    “It was just so quick and the momentum shifted,” Kearney said. “This year we’ve been scoring goals in bunches, and once we get one, we can get a couple more after that. No lead is too big to overcome.”

    Just 51 seconds and the Elis had the game in their hands. Less than a minute and the lackluster performance in the 5-on-3 was erased, the subdued crowd became euphoric.

    The only thing that stood in the way of a hard-fought win for the Bulldogs was a five minute overtime period.

    By then, no one would dare leave Ingalls, and those who had must have been wishing they hadn’t.

    Fortunately for Yale, Little was not finished scoring yet. A hat trick eluded the junior forward in the game against Dartmouth on Feb. 5,but Saturday was the night when anything could happen.

    Looking a bit weary from the long game, the Bulldogs fended off a few drives from the Knights before Kearney swept an inside pass across the crease to Little, who ended the game with a shot into the upper left corner of the net to complete his hat trick.

    As he raced across the ice to meet the rest of his team, the crowd got even louder. Teammates mobbed Little in front of the student section, knocking him to the ice in celebration.

    “After I scored, I just got really excited,” Little said. “I jumped into [the crowd] of teammates, and everyone was just going nuts.”

    Walking out of the Whale for the last regular season game, I couldn’t stop smiling. It was a fantastic comeback, one of the best I’ve seen in person, and the same probably goes for most of the 1,500 people at the rink that night.

    But the best part is, this team has done it before, and they can do it again. True, it was an amazing game and huge feat to accomplish in a tough game. But the Yale hockey team is fifth in the country for a reason. The Bulldogs know what it takes to win, and they have the heart and the talent to put away three goals in 51 seconds then come out strong in overtime and beat a team that thought it had won 15 minutes earlier.

    Yogi Berra was right: “It ain’t over till it’s over.”

    Brittany Golob is a senior in Ezra Stiles College and a former Sports editor for the News.

  8. Golob: Olympics matter to many

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    A year and a half ago, Michael Phelps became an international superstar, drawing the attention of the nation and anyone who watched the Summer Olympics in Beijing. He attracted the spotlight as he blew the competition away, winning eight swimming gold medals.

    On Saturday, Apolo Anton Ohno, possibly America’s most recognizable winter Olympian, quietly notched his first medal of the Vancouver games, tying the winter record of five medals won by a single athlete. Compatriot J.R. Celski grabbed the bronze in the same short track race.

    The two events are seemingly incomparable, on the one hand you have the biggest superstar in the country wowing the world, on the other there’s a pair of hardworking ice skaters barely crossing the finish line in time. Why should anyone care about the Winter Olympics?

    The answer lies, as it almost always does, in the details. If you watched Ohno and Celski’s short track race you would have noticed how the lead changed numerous times. How, for the entire 1,500 meters, it was impossible to predict the medalists. How a South Korean attempting to pass his teammate caused them both to crash, catapulting the American duo into second and third just meters before the finish line.

    Such is the sport of short track and such is the Winter Olympics.

    There are countless interesting individual stories in any Olympic Games — from the first Canadian to win gold on home soil to the previously anonymous figure skating pair from China becoming the world’s sweethearts on a Valentine’s Day they will never forget. But that is true of any Olympics, winter or summer.

    What makes the Winter Games special, and what Sam Goldsmith failed to realize in his column “Woeful Winter Games” on Wednesday, is that the 1,500-meter short track race highlighted the thrill of the unknown.

    No one knew who would take the podium in Ohno’s race and, like Phelps, the short track racers use each other to motivate themselves to cross the finish line.

    I could never argue that anyone watching the swimming competition in Beijing or Sydney or Athens could look at Michael Phelps and say to themselves, “Well, I was a pretty good swimmer in high school, I could do that too.” But there is always the guy a half-a-pool length behind the leader all the way in lane eight, who Mr. High School Swimmer thinks he can take.

    That’s true of most Summer Olympics sports. Everyone has played soccer or basketball or swam or even ran around in a leotard at age six in their local gym. The Summer Games are a known quantity; they are relatable. That quality makes them entirely fun to watch, but strips them of the mystique of the unknown that pervades their snowy counterpart.

    Even if you’re a black-diamond skier or can play ice hockey with the best of them, the Winter Olympics highlight lesser known sports that viewers learn how to play as they learn about the athletes that play them.

    I always find myself wondering, how does someone get into a sport like skeleton? Who trains them? Who are these people? That makes me realize the sacrifices the athletes and their families must make to compete in sports that are only played in cold climates or on mountaintops or in ice rinks. To me, it makes their achievements in the Olympics all the more impressive.

    A luging race can hold as much allure as a long distance track event because as you watch, you come to realize the intricacies of the sport and learn that the skill and courage the athletes flying down an icy chute exhibit.

    It may be obscure and ESPN may never show a freestyle skiing event or a bobsled competition, but I know I’m not alone in thinking that hearing Hannah Kearney — America’s first gold medal winner of the Vancouver Games — give a shout out to Yale hockey in a nationally-televised interview with Bob Costas was totally awesome.

    The Winter Olympics have a charm and familiarity that the Summer Games do not. You could argue that it just means there are fewer countries and athletes (you’d be right) than in the summer, and that it means the Games are not truly an international event (there you’d be wrong).

    It’s true only five African nations are competing in Vancouver, and that Mexico has only one entry and he is a 51-year-old alpine skier, but you’d be lying if you didn’t cheer for any Jamaican athlete, bobsledder or not, after watching “Cool Runnings.”

    The Winter Games are intimate. They allow viewers to get to know all the athletes, to learn how they compete and why they compete and they show off the hidden secrets of their host nations.

    My bet is that no one could place Lake Placid or Cortina d’Ampezzo on a map before the Olympics were held there. Few have ever been to Squaw Valley — as a native Californian, I did not even know that was in my home state until this year. But, as the Vancouver opening ceremonies showed us, the true beauty of the host city and country is shown off in the Winter Games because of their intimacy.

    The Beijing ceremonies were an impressive, fantastic production; Athens was a touching tribute to history; Atlanta promoted a nation’s best athletes. The Vancouver ceremonies were more understated.

    Producer David Atkins’s vision to use the audience as a human canvas paid off hugely as orcas swam across the floor of the arena. Canada’s character was embraced in a high-energy segment featuring tattooed tap dancing fiddlers. A host of indigenous dancers and drummers saw the athletes in to the arena in a moving tribute to their native land. The country’s best musicians, athletes and performers were put on display for all the world to see in this beautiful tribute to a widely diverse nation.

    The Winter Olympics will never overtake the Summer Games in popularity, or spectacle, but they present a different kind of international competition. They highlight the beauty of the world’s lesser-known locations and sports. They prove how difficult it must be to excel at a sport that isn’t played by millions of people. They allow for an international community of athletes to truly come together for 17 days and bring their stories to the world.

    So the next time you watch a biathlon race, don’t just write it off as a silly sport that combines skiing and shooting and seems like it derived from deer hunting in the arctic tundra. Marvel at the skill these athletes have in their unique sport. Watch Shaun White complete legendary new tricks on the halfpipe, try and understand what happens to his spin when an aerial skier turns his shoulder slightly or what a single bad move can do to a short track skater’s medal dreams.

    Appreciate these games for their mystique and cheer on that Ethiopian cross country skiier, become a curling fan for two weeks, learn what a triple lutz is, finally understand the offsides rule in hockey.

    You’ll love the Winter Games, I promise.

    Brittany Golob is a senior in Ezra Stiles College and a former Sports editor for the News.

  9. Newfound love for Olympics

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    I’m embarrassed to say that until Saturday night, I was not an Olympics follower. In a complete lack of patriotism caused by utter laziness, I had passed this once sacred event over completely. During a time when many otherwise un-athletically inclined Yalies were tuning in to support our country’s best winter athletes, I, a self-proclaimed (and published) sports fan, could have cared less about the events in Vancouver.

    And then, something amazing happened.

    On Saturday my teammates and I competed in an all-day club volleyball tournament at Northeastern (third place, in case you were wondering). Despite having woken at up 5 a.m. for the drive, I had opted to fight through the fatigue and party hop that night. One stop involved an unexpected viewing of the Olympics, women’s moguls in particular. Having been a softball catcher for more than 13 years, usually I can barely stand to watch this event as my eyes fixate on the knees of the participants as images of torn ACLs, MCLs and meniscuses flash through my mind. But Saturday night was different.

    Instead of just watching, we were rooting.

    Rooting for whom, you ask? Hannah Kearney, sister of Yale hockey player Denny Kearney ’11 and, ultimately, the winner of the United States’ first gold medal of the 2010 Winter Olympics.

    This event marked a lot of sports firsts for me.

    This was the first time I could actually identify with an Olympic athlete personally. Knowing that Hannah Kearney is related to someone in my own residential college made her more real, accessible and relatable. If softball were still an Olympic sport, I would have many friends from Texas competing in the Games, to whom I would be able to relate. As it stands, softball and baseball are still less legitimate than curling, and I’m still pretty bitter about that, so I won’t diverge just now. Maybe next week’s column.

    Saturday was also the first time I had rooted for a U.S. athlete for reasons other than nationality. Hannah Kearney’s story and her journey were so compelling that the entire room of viewers applauded. The stories that take athletes from rock bottom, in this case self-proclaimed “utter failure” in the 2006 Turin Games, to the top of the top (Olympic gold, if you were following), are what I live for as an athlete. In fact, they are the hope and faith of every athlete who has ever been the last out in a game, the last error in a match or the final competitor in an event. Anything is possible.

    And lastly, this was the first time being at Yale has brought me closer to sports. Personally, Yale athletics and I have had a turbulent relationship at best. This was no more apparent than when I made the difficult choice to leave varsity athletics last year. It seemed, so far, that my time at Yale had been characterized by a waning of the athletic intensity that had me playing high school volleyball and softball, while juggling simultaneous travel teams in both sports as well.

    But this time, Hannah Kearney’s connection to Yale and my identification with her really renewed my love for sports and my faith in athletic competition. “Rags to riches” has never been more meaningful.

    So, hopefully my epiphany, which may be entirely over-exaggerated and dramatized, will inspire you to remember just how great athletics can be. And when it does — which it should if I’ve done my job well —go out and own that renewed intensity in whatever way you like best. Play IMs, watch the Olympics, support Yale Athletics and get back into that childlike spirit you used to have. Start believing again.

  10. Goldsmith: Woeful Winter Games

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    At the end of my last column, I naively suggested that after the build-up to the Super Bowl, the Winter Olympics would provide a great outlet for the abundance of American Spirit traditionally lost after the climax of football season. In retrospect, this prediction made about as much sense as seeing Rob McElhenny in last week’s “Lost.”

    I had forgotten, quite foolishly, that no one really cares about the Winter Olympics. So far, the most exciting news out of Vancouver for me was hearing that a current Yalie’s sister won the first gold medal for the United States in the women’s mogul.

    That said, I can’t wait for another classic showdown in women’s skeleton between the United Kingdom’s Shelley Rudman and Mellisa Hollingsworth of Canada. Oh, and the men’s 4×7.5 km biathlon proves to be equally enthralling.

    Let’s face it, the Winter Olympics are a huge letdown. I was casually flicking through the channels on Friday night, having forgotten entirely about the opening ceremonies, and nearly mistook them for public access coverage of Inuit Got Talent. The athletes even looked unimpressed.

    After a few seconds of reflection, this disappointment with the Winter Games makes sense: Who are these athletes and what are they doing?

    OK, so you could argue the same about many of the athletes in the Summer Games, who lurk behind the scenes in under-televised sports, gaining their due notoriety only once every four years. The main difference, however, is that it’s much easier for most Americans to relate to a swimmer, a runner or a rower — while these are also not big-market sports — than it is to relate to a curler or a short-track speed skater. For most of us, these sports seem like obscure hobbies, and personally I spend more time during the competition asking myself how the hell these people become professional curlers than marveling over their textbook “Chip & Lies.” (What???)

    We get excited about our Summer Olympic athletes because we can connect with their sports, even the less mainstream ones. Swimming and track and field aren’t weekly staples on ESPN, yet these are inexpensive sports with millions of participants at all levels across the countries. Almost every public school system can support programs competing in these sports, and as a result, there are millions of viewers and fans that become passionate during the Summer Games.

    Recreational skiing is a significant winter pastime, and hockey is a major market sport, but on the whole, the sports featured in the Winter Games are not accessible because of their cost to competitors — not to mention climate restrictions. Maybe there are not many beach volleyball players outside southern California, but I don’t think it’s too hard to imagine why people prefer it to the luge.

    And finally, you have to admit, half of these events are just plain boring! Many of the skiing races, as well as all of the skeleton, bobsleigh and luge are timed track runs. Without competitors side-by-side, how would Jason Lezak find that superhuman strength at the end of the men’s 4 x 100 m freestyle relay at the Beijing games to pull off an impossible victory against the world-record holder?

    That is what makes the Olympics special; the story of the underdog, the improbable victor elevated to greatness by the thrill of competing on the world’s largest stage. I am not arguing to change the nature of these sports, but perhaps something can be done to make these competitions the transcendent, global event that they embody.

    This is the Olympic Games, so why does it feel like No-Names On Ice?

  11. Song: Risky decisions, different results

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    Who dat say dey gunna beat dem Saints?

    For all of you living under Snooki’s poof for the past week, a little football game went on between the New Orleans Saints and the Indianapolis Colts on Sunday. Through all the weird commercials (I don’t know what godaddy.com is, but Danica Patrick and her host of hot models just made it my homepage) and disjointed play (extended commercial breaks after both the touchdown and kickoff?!), I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the Super Bowl and The Game 2009.

    In both games, there was one clear favorite and one clear underdog. All the pundits leading up to the Super Bowl predicted a runaway victory for the Colts. Indy could’ve gone 19-0, they said. Jim Caldwell was a mastermind, even if we’re not 100 percent sure he realizes he’s coaching a football team. Peyton Manning was touted as a relative of Jesus, savior of the endangered yellow-throated hanging-parrot, and maybe the greatest quarterback of all time. (OK, so I made a couple of those up, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if an NFL analyst said any of the above three things.)

    The Saints, on the other hand, were reeling. After a 13-0 start, they had started to fade. (They lost to the Buccaneers!) There was no way Drew Brees could continue throwing darts, no way a banged up Jeremy Shockey with more ink on him than my Constitutional Law casebook could have an meaningful impact, and no way Manning could allow the Colts to lose. (He’s related to Jesus for God’s sake!) SAT analogy lesson: The Saints were to underdog as Kim Kardashian is to hottest derriere of all time. OK, I failed the SATs — but you get the point.

    Now, let’s backtrack to The Game 2009, or as I call it, The “flashes of recollection in between blacking out from depression and Popov” Game 2009. At 6-1 in the Ivy League, the Cantabs swaggered into the Have with more gusto than Jamie Foxx in the “Blame It” video. (Quick digression: Have you seen that video? Is there a weirder collection of club bangers than Jamie Foxx, Forrest Whitaker, Jake Gyllenhaal and — wait for it — Ron Howard? At what point does Jamie Foxx roll out of bed and say to himself, “Man, you know who I wanna go clubbing with? Ron Howard. And a dude dancing around with a panda helmet.” OK, back to the column). Their rushing offense led the conference, their defense was stingy, and their fans had just realized New Haven’s drinking laws weren’t actually enforced.

    Meanwhile, Yale was reeling after the graduation of its workhorse running back, Mike McLeod ’09. We had a rookie head coach, a new quarterback and a supposedly solid defense that had just given up 247 rushing yards and three rushing touchdowns against a Princeton team that had scored a total of two rushing touchdowns in its first eight games. In other words, we were supposed to be more overwhelmed than a 13-year-old kid at an adult video store.

    Now, on to the actual games.

    Down 10-6 and kicking off to the surging Colts at the beginning of the second half, the Saints did the unthinkable. They (gasp!) sneak-attacked Indy with an onside kick! Why? Here’s a list to break it down:

    1) The Colts had all the momentum.

    If it hadn’t been for a dropped Pierre Garçon third-down pass, the Colts might have been leading by at least another touchdown. The Saints’ defense seemed to avoid sacking Peyton Manning more than I avoided talking to girls in ninth grade for fear of cooties. (I developed late, OK? Leave me alone!)

    2) It’s been proven time and time again: The only way to beat the Colts is to play an unconventional game.

    Think back to that ridiculous Miami Dolphins game earlier in the season. The Dolphins ran all over Indy and held onto the ball like Khloe Kardashian to Lamar Odom. (Two Kardashian references? Somebody’s been keeping up with them…) The Colts only had the ball for what seemed like five minutes the entire game. And they still one! Miami played essentially a perfect game in the conventional sense — dominate the time of possession by running the ball. What did they have to show for it? A loss.

    3) After countless seasons mired in mediocrity, the Saints knew they needed a huge karmic change if they wanted to win.

    More qualified writers than I have explored the subject of tortured fan bases. But the Saints seem to bring that to a new level. After all, name me another city that was almost swallowed up in an apocalyptic hurricane, exposed our nation’s horrible disaster planning and started Kanye West down a path of craziness. (Remember when Kanye West said George W. Bush ’68 hated black people? Kanye hasn’t been the same ever since…) Facing that kind of hatorade, only something really, really ballsy could’ve gotten them back.

    And that brings us back to the onside kick. Detractors say that had it not been for Hank Baskett being too busy looking at pretty girls to catch a football that bounced off of his facemask (the Colts’ Baskett married Kendra Wilkinson, former reality star of “Girls Next Door” and girlfriend of Hugh Hefner), the Colts would’ve recovered and the Saints would’ve gotten rocked.

    Fair enough. But isn’t that inherent risk what makes the call so ballsy and momentum-shifting at the same time? If recovering an onside kick were as easy as getting into Toad’s, then it wouldn’t matter when a team got it. From the moment the Saints recovered the ball, I knew they would come back and win the game. Momentum had been swung, they had kicked the Colts unexpectedly in the groin, and reversed all their karmic woes of the past decade.

    Now let’s look at The Game. I’ve already spent an entire 1,000-plus-word column defending the call, so I won’t go into the details of going for it on fourth-and-22 as heavy underdogs and securing a place in the history of the rivalry. But let’s look at why the call made sense when paralleled to the Super Bowl.

    1) Harvard had all the momentum.

    After Yale’s inspired play dominated the game for three quarters, Harvard slowly came back by repeatedly going for it on fourth down and bribing the refs (it hasn’t been confirmed yet — but we know they cheated). Even the Cantab fans had awoken from their drunken stupor to know to cheer for the guys in the Crimson jerseys.

    2) Whatever Yale had been doing wasn’t working.

    Sure, Yale had the lead. But it’s not like the offense was the second coming of the New England Patriots circa 2007. At the same time, Harvard was showing why they led the league in rushing the football. Our tired defense was a step slow after playing like the Energizer bunny on crack for most the game. Those two things might be a worse combination than Spencer and Heidi.

    3) After years of losing to Harvard at the end of the Jack Siedlecki Era, Tom Williams needed to make a change.

    How do you counteract the conservatism of the Siedlecki Era? Go for it on fourth-and-22! ’Nuff said.

    So we went for it. And we failed. “The Call” didn’t work because we missed a key block that would’ve sprung our runner for another 20 yards.

    When you think about it, the situations of the calls were the same; only the results were different. Instead of an onside kick going off Hank Baskett’s helmet, we missed a block and got stuffed seven yards shy of the first down. Instead of a victory parade that started Mardi Gras a week early and a drunken Darren Sharper yelling incomprehensibly on national TV, we had 70-year-old alumni cartoonishly throwing their hats onto the ground in protest.

    But sometimes, that’s just the way the ball bounces. The Saints waited 45 years to win their first Super Bowl. I guess we could wait for one more to beat Harvard?

    John Song is a junior in Berkeley College.