So the NHL is back. Well isn’t that just wonderful. And like many abusive relationships,
the fans will come crawling back thinking this time it will be different. The winner: the NHL. The
losers: the fans. Is that how it’s going to be?
Nothing would make me happier than seeing
fans finally stand up for themselves and boycott the balance of this
season. Empty arenas are the only
way to get the message across to the NHL, team owners and players that this
type of behaviour will not be tolerated.
If nothing else, tickets should be reduced to half-price to show
appreciation to the fans that have remained loyal. But that won’t happen.
We all know how this will end.
The fans will go back to them regardless. Well, all but this fan.
Like most Canadian boys, I grew up playing
hockey both on the ice and on our neighbourhood streets, instilling in me a
love for the game that has stayed with me to this day. It’s that same love for the game that
will compel most fans to give the NHL their immediate forgiveness. While I wish that were not the case, I
cannot hold it against them. If
you’re happy that the NHL is back so that you can once again watch the game you
love, well then I’m happy that you’re happy, but my feelings on the matter
remain unchanged.
Maybe it’s the game that has changed, or
maybe it’s me that has changed, but for whatever the reason, I can no longer
hold the NHL on the pedestal I once did.
It has become all too clear that for the NHL, “the love of the game” has
been replaced with “the love of money”.
This can also be said for most professional sports leagues, where
salaries have gotten so extraordinarily out of hand that most professional
athletes will make more in one season than we will in multiple lifetimes.
While professional hockey players may not
even be at the top of the list of highest paid athletes, they do quite well for
themselves. There’s no hardship
there, there’s no need to feel sorry for them. Think about how hard you work at your job to make ends
meet. Think about how much time
you must put in at work to save enough money to buy your son or daughter a
jersey with their favourite player's name and number on it, or buy tickets to take your family
to a game. Think of that feeling
of excitement that permeates through your body when you enter the arena and see
the ice for the first time. For
the average fan taking home an average salary, they’re lucky if they can attend
maybe one game per season, if that.
That’s the reality of the average fan. That is precisely why I have a hard time accepting the fact
that a third line winger who gets maybe seven shifts a game is making more money
sitting there on the bench during one 60 minute game than we fans will make in
an entire year. And still, they
are not satisfied? Is what they do
for a living really that much more important than what we do for a living, to
justify that degree of disparity?
And who pays these ridiculous
salaries? We do, the fans. Our love of the game blinds us from
reality, and we gladly shell out hundreds if not thousands of dollars year
after year for tickets and team apparel without even a second thought. Our love of the game keeps us coming
back, and the NHL knows that. They
feed on that, but at the same time, they also know we are a limited
resource. They know there is only
so much money they can bleed from us, which is why they have turned their focus
to corporate season tickets and private boxes.
Look at the Toronto Maple Leafs and the Air
Canada Centre for example. The
majority of the lower bowl is sold out before the season even begins, but not
because of the fans. Only the
upper bowl is really open to average fans, the lower bowl is for the
corporations, those that have the deeper pockets capable of spending over $250
per ticket and supporting the NHL for years to come. Why have the iconic Maple Leafs not made a greater effort over
these past few decades to secure a team capable of winning the Stanley
Cup? Simple… because they don’t
have to. The seats are filled for
each and every game, and team apparel is flying off the shelves, regardless of
the quality of the team. To spend
more for higher quality talent would be unnecessary and foolish. The goal isn't to win the Stanley Cup, it's to maximize profits, and
they’re sure doing an excellent job of that.
For the first five minutes of each period,
the lower level seats sit empty, as the corporate elite indulge themselves on
over-priced food and drinks, expanding their range of spending far beyond merely
the cost of the seats. Fans may
not be able to afford the price of the food and drinks, but those corporations
sure can, especially when they are trying to impress. That’s where the profit is to be made. The teams and NHL know it. Those corporations are the future, not
us fans. Fans are secondary. Fans are only needed to buy licensed merchandise;
we’re not needed at the games anymore.
We’re encouraged to watch Hockey Night in Canada at home, while we wear
our favourite team’s third jerseys, and drink from our team logo mug.
Why else would the league expand to unlikely
markets in the southern United States that leave us scratching our heads? It’s not because there is a huge demand
for ice-based sports down there.
Not too many kids in Phoenix grow up with a love for the game of hockey,
or spend their winters playing shinny on the local pond. In fact, they don’t even call it hockey. They call it “Ice Hockey”, as though
the concept of ice is somewhat foreign to them, and requires clarification. Cities such as this to the NHL are
nothing more than an untapped market where they can create a team, promote the
sport in order to sell tickets and merchandise, make as much money as they can,
and as soon as the novelty wears off, they can move the team elsewhere and
start the cycle all over again. No
thought is given to the watering down of talent as the league expands to more
and more teams. The NHL is now
filled with mediocre players that never would have made the cut 20 years ago,
but with more teams comes more money.
Financially, the NHL is far better off placing new teams in the population
rich United States rather than Canada, so even though there is undeniable
demand in Canada for more teams (Hamilton immediately comes to mind), and even
though the majority of the die-hard hockey fans live north of the border, it
doesn’t matter. The fans don’t
matter. Money matters. The NHL is a business first and
foremost.
We’ve had to endure several months of
listening to millionaires and billionaires negotiate over who gets what share
of the profits. We fans don’t care
how you guys divide the profits, as long as you put a decent product on the ice
for our enjoyment, and feed our love of the game, we’re happy. But they didn’t do that. They could have kept playing through
their ongoing negotiations, but they didn’t. Rather than watching nightly highlight reels on TSN or ESPN,
we’ve been forced to watch Gary Bettman and various players dressed in suits
walk in, out, and around building entrances, on their way to and from business
meetings and contract negotiations.
I can’t help but think something has been lost in all of this, the image
of professional hockey tarnished.
What happened to the game I love?
As I stand back now and try my best to look
at it objectively, I guess I can’t blame the NHL. I can’t blame the owners. I can’t blame the players. Hockey is a business before all else. Hockey, like most businesses, is all
about money. In business, money is
everything. I get that. At least at that level, the idealistic
concept of “the love of the game” died a long time ago. The charade is over, and I suppose for
the first time, I’ve allowed myself to see the business of hockey as it really
is. Now they’re back, their secret exposed, and they
expect us to act like nothing ever happened. Well I can’t do that.
I’m not suggesting you all boycott the
NHL. I’m not suggesting you immediately
forgive the NHL. Really, I’m not
suggesting anything at all. Do
whatever feels right for you, and whatever that is, I’ll respect that. As odd as it may sound, I was actually
rooting for the cancellation of the entire season out of spite, and was
strangely disappointed to hear a deal had been struck. Or maybe I was more disappointed
because now that a deal is in place, everyone is giving each other high-fives,
thinking everything can finally get back to normal. It all seems a little too easy. What is normal?
Is normal really such a great thing?
For me, I guess what I’m
saying is that I’ve come to the realization that I no longer care. The NHL sure doesn’t care about me, and
I’m fine with that, most big businesses don’t. I still love hockey, but I’m not the least bit excited that
the NHL is back, and that says something to me. It turns out that my life without the NHL has been just fine,
and I’ve even got a few extra dollars in my pocket to show for it. No apologies needed from the NHL, feel
free to go about your business, and best of luck with your next lock-out ten
years from now. While I have no
doubt that I’ll still see you around from time to time, it won't ever be the same. I don't want it to be.