Hockey Rhetoric

Seven months ago there wasn’t a person in this country who didn’t know that Leno was moving to prime-time and that Conan would be taking over The Tonight Show at the 11:30 time slot. Now look, there’s not many people my age that care less about late night television talk shows than I do but even I was curious enough to tune in on Conan’s first week. I wanted to see what his stage would look like, how his jokes would be received, and how well he was able to interact with the guests. NBC and other media folks had made such a big deal out of what was happening with The Tonight Show, I eventually gave in. After watching a couple of nights worth of shows I thought it was cool and seemed pretty well done if you’re into that sort of thing but I’m not and so I didn’t make a habit of turning on Conan at 11:30 every night.

After the first week, we all know what happened. Conan’s ratings shit the bed and about a half-year after the move, NBC made the shrewd, coldhearted decision to push The Tonight Show back another 30 minutes. Conan said he’d rather walk away in a brilliantly scripted memo to the, “People of Earth.” Suddenly, everyone was demonizing NBC and Leno for pulling the rug out from under Conan so quickly. The bottom line though is that NBC is in the business of making money through commercial ad sales and too few people were watching Conan’s show. He had a brief opportunity to capture a large audience in that first week but failed, fair or unfair as it may be. For me personally the show just wasn’t good enough to continue coming back once the nostalgia of the premiere week wore off. Apparently there’s a larger audience that exists for Leno and the move was made. While all this drama over NBC’s decision was unfolding, predictably, people really started paying attention to and rallying behind Conan. How will Conan react to this act of betrayal? What will he say? I feel bad for Conan. He didn’t deserve what he got.

There will always be some celebrity in crisis to hold the public’s attention. Even the most casual pop music listener knew who Chris Brown and Rihanna were after their domestic dispute became a matter of public information. And for about a month straight, everyone in America was talking about Tiger Woods after his car accident and subsequent fall from grace. Will Rihanna press charges? Will Chris Brown serve any time in jail? Will Tiger Woods be able to fix his personal life and return to golf prominence? Will Elin divorce him? People wanted to know.

It’s interesting to reflect on the paradigm people use to react to situations of crisis or injustice. On one side of the drama are the people portrayed as villains: NBC/Leno, Chris Brown, and Tiger Woods. On the other side are the wronged characters that the public always sympathizes with: Conan, Rihanna, and Elin.

Almost one-hundred-percent of the time I pay no mind to the villain. They really aren’t interesting to me. Villains are so predictable. Most of the poor decisions a villain makes are based on things they never had any control over to begin with like economics or human nature that became twisted from growing up in a lousy home. I’ve long since accepted the fact that there are people in this world with poor qualities and different objectives. The only time I ever really pay attention to a villain is when I’m trying to extract them from my life. What good does it do to point fingers and echo judgments from behind closed doors.

I’d much rather watch the character or group of characters that the public sympathizes with and see how they respond to the crisis/injustice. It’s in these characters, at these moments, that the potential exists for some of the most noble and admirable of human characteristics like compassion and perseverance to bubble to the surface.

Yesterday referee Carey Frasier made an indefensible, egregious penalty call on a play that resulted in the rescindment of a crucial goal for the Sabres. Fans were ready to nail Frasier’s body to the cross. His action at the end of the 2ed period certainly qualifies him as a villain from the perspective of Sabres fans. And that’s what people seemed to focus on in the 3rd period and after the game was finished. Why is that? Why are people so insistent upon identifying and then fixating on the villain? Maybe it’s because when you have a villain, the character or group of characters on the other side of the table suddenly become more interesting. Or maybe we just can’t look beyond and just let go of the injustice.

The Sabres struggled on this road trip going 2-3-2 and only collecting 6 of a possible 14 points. Besides Frasier, no player or team really emerged as a villain. To me, there seems to be plenty else to focus on besides villains like for instance the tension surrounding how the Sabres will respond to their record on the road trip now that they’re back home.  The framework is set for something great to potentially come of it. Can they persevere and respond after a few tough losses? Can they pick up the bricks and rebuild the castle that seems to be crumbling?

For me, I’d always rather try and focus on the potential for good fortune to manifest itself from a grim situation. Buffalo sports fans and critics often don’t think that way, I’ve noticed. As a group, we always seem to doubt whether or not the sun will actually rise again tomorrow in our little sports world. I choose to try and not think that way. I was excited for the potential to see the Sabres respond and win after Frasier’s missed call. I was pretty much over the injustice of it all as soon as the 2nd period ended (pretty much, for the most part, kind of). At the very least I really made an effort to push it out of my mind.

It’s tough to break those habits and complaining about the unfairness of sports is fun, not to mention a pretty solid way to relieve some stress, but for the people like fans who have no control over any stage of the sports process, I think it’s more constructive to focus on the potential for success while pushing away — after learning the appropriate lessons from — the people and policies responsible for failure.