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Scout
10-23-2007, 04:41 PM
By Cory Wolfe, TheStarPhoenix.com

Through an online diary, StarPhoenix sports reporter Cory Wolfe is documenting his travels with the Saskatoon Blades. The team is on a five-game, 10-day road trip through the U.S. Division.


The Saskatoon Blades get put their paces during practice at the Spokane Arena.
Cory Wolfe/The StarPhoenix




Here's the first installment of the diary, filed from Spokane, Wash. on Oct. 18:


Wednesday, Oct. 17


6:32 p.m.: With 32 people aboard, the bus departs from Credit Union Centre in Saskatoon. The delegation consists of 22 players, two coaches, an assistant general manager, two owners, two trainers, two media types and a bus driver.

10:10 p.m.: Some passengers play poker, while others read. Live Free or Die Hard is in full swing on the bus's mini televisions. Eventually, Bruce Willis, a.k.a. Jon McClane, delivers his trademark line "Yippe ki yay" and saves the day. Again.



Thursday, Oct. 18


12:32 a.m.: The bus pulls into a hotel parking lot at Taber, Alta., and Petey (Spiderman) Smith boards to take over driving duties. Smith earned his nickname a couple of years ago after he was bitten by a spider at a hotel in a Prince George, B.C.

1:05 a.m.: Bodies stretch across seats and others clog the aisle as passengers settle in for sleep.

5:08 a.m.: The voice of trainer Steve (Hilty) Hildebrand pierces the darkness. "Boys! Get up! Get your passports ready. Make sure the aisle is clear." Soon after, the bus pulls into the border crossing at Eastport, Idaho. The border guard orders everyone off the bus and into the station where he checks passports five at a time. The documentation of Finnish defenceman Jyri Niemi gets an extra going-over, but everything is in order. A guard asks 6-foot-7 Kevin Philp: "Are you sure you guys aren't a basketball team?"

8:01 a.m. (local time): Throughout Spokane, mills and warehouses have been preserved and converted into condos and restaurants. The Spokane Arena is nestled amongst these red-brick structures along the river. After players unload the bus, assistant GM Jarrod Brodsky delivers a playful jab at assistant coach David Struch. "Is this the only building in the league where you haven't scored a goal?" Struch scored 134 goals goals as a Blade from 1988-92, but the Spokane Arena wasn't built until 1995. "At every rink," says Brodsky, "you can ask him, 'How many did you get here, Strudel?' And he says, 'Oh, a ton.' "

"I'll get my first one here today," replies Struch. "(Braden) Holtby better keep his glove up."

8:28 a.m.: The team checks in at the Red Lion River Inn, which is a 10-minute walk from Spokane Arena.

8:40 a.m.: Breakfast is served. It's the full-meal deal of eggs, hashbrowns, sausages and pancakes. Afterwards, players retreat to their rooms for some shut-eye.

11:20 a.m.: I head to the hotel's fitness room to use the treadmill. Blades coach-GM Lorne Molleken is already well into a workout.

12:37 p.m.: Back in my room, the phone rings. I answer and the way-too-cheerful voice on the other end says: "This is your wake-up call!" I wonder how you can get a wake-up call if you haven't really slept.

1:40 p.m.: As I walk to the rink along the riverside boardwalk, I think, "Perhaps this is what Saskatoon's River Landing will look like when it's all grown-up." The area is tastefully developed, but the presence of nature is undeniable - especially during the fall when the leaves on the trees are changing.

1:50 p.m.: Spokane Chiefs GM Tim Speltz greets me at the rink. He's helped arrange an interview with Chiefs rookie defenceman Jared Cowen, a former Saskatoon midget player.

2:01 p.m.: I conduct interviews with Cowen and Chiefs goaltender Kevin Armstrong, a former Blade. "Army" is rockin' a nice handlebar moustache. At the conclusion of our interview, I ask him: "Anything to add?" He replies, "Not really. You should add in that I have a handlebar moustache, though." Done.

2:13 p.m.: The Blades hit the ice for practice. More than one player says "wow" as he steps out of the tunnel and into the splendor that is the 10,366-seat Spokane Arena.

3:15 p.m.: After an up-tempo skate, coach Lorne Molleken gathers his players at the side boards and tells them: "It's going to be a tremendous atmosphere in here tomorrow, so be focused." After a few more words, the players slap their sticks on the ice and break the huddle.

3:30 p.m.: I corner Molleken, defenceman John Flatters and forward Gaelan Patterson for interviews. Patterson says assistant coach David Struch has agreed to have his head shaved if the Blades earn at least seven of a possible 10 points on this road trip.

4 p.m.: I return to the hotel to file some stories before supper.

5:47 p.m.: Players board the bus for supper at The Old Spaghetti Factory. As John Flatters navigates the aisle en route to his seat at the back of the bus, he checks everyone for belts. The absence of a belt is a $2 fine. All passengers pass the test. In the past, players have been fined for bringing too many bags on a trip, having greasy hair and messing with the trainers' music.

6:20 p.m.: Halfway through our meal of chicken parmesan, the players at one table starting clinking glasses with spoons. Other players join in. Someone has been shoe-checked, meaning he has a dollop of something - salad dressing, sour cream, maybe even tomato sauce - on his shoe. Players distract one of their peers while someone crawls under the table and messes with the shoes. The victim this time is Gaelan Patterson. The shoes of Jyri Niemi are also tagged before the meal is over.

7:03 p.m.: The Saskatoon delegation returns to the hotel. Wake-up call for game day is 8:30 a.m.



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Here's the second installment of the diary, filed from Spokane, Wash. on Oct. 19:

Friday, Oct. 19

8:30 a.m.: "Good morning! This is your wake-up call. Thank you for choosing the Red Lion River Inn." Breakfast follows and then the bus transports the team to Spokane Arena for a morning skate.

10:08 a.m.: While the players practise, Blades trainer Graham (Spike) Watt revs the sewing machine in the locker-room. He's fixing a seam on coach Lorne Molleken's dress pants. "I betcha every trip we go on, I fix something of Lorne's," says Spike. Meanwhile, fellow trainer Steve (Hilty) Hildebrand is pouring coffee. The trainers travel with their own coffee maker and plenty of Tim Hortons grounds. "We even had the opposing coach (Spokane's Bill Peters) over here," Hilty says proudly.

10:30 a.m.: The players form a circle at centre ice for their post-practice stretch. "Let's dish out some punishment tonight, eh?" veteran defenceman John Flatters says with vigor. "I know Gillies is ready to dish out some punishment . . . take no prisoners."

10:37 a.m.: Molleken emerges from the tunnel. He's traded his skates for running shoes. He plans to run stairs for 30 minutes. "Well, where do I start?" the coach says to no one one in particular. Hilty starts timing.

10:42 a.m.: Defenceman Teigan Zahn asks Spike to replace the blade on his stick. "It's not much of a curve," mutters Zahn. Spike promises to swap the Roenick blade for a Sakic blade - "like the goal scorers use," he says.

11:04 a.m.: Hilty sharpens skates outside the locker-room as Molleken returns from his run. The trainer checks his watch. "That's three minutes short of a half-hour," he says.

12:05 p.m.: Back at the hotel, I change into running gear and embark on my own 30-minute jog along the Spokane River. My route winds through the campus of Gonzaga University and then through the downtown core. The trails are spectacular. They're lined with a cushion of red, orange and yellow leaves. A variety of bridges - some steel, others concrete; some for walking, others for driving - add to the scenery. Ask locals how many bridges span the river and the best answer you'll get is "a lot."

2:00 p.m.: Pre-game meal at the hotel. The menu consists of salad, chicken breasts, steamed beans and carrots, pasta and tomato sauce.

4:45 p.m.: Players depart for the rink. Two hours and 15 minutes until game time.

6 p.m. sharp: Front doors open at Spokane Arena. Kids head straight for the L-shaped table flaunting cake to celebrate the birthday of Boomer, Spokane's mascot.

6:25 p.m.: Teams take the ice for warm-up.

7:05 p.m.: The Spokane crowd observes a moment of silence for Roy McBride, who died Sunday in Saskatoon at age 87. McBride was a player and coach with the Spokane Flyers. The Spokesman-Review newspaper described him as "the architect of Spokane's hockey success."

7:09 p.m.: Game on. Less than six minutes into the action, Chiefs forward Drayson Bowman scores to set off the best celebratory tradition in junior hockey. Every fan stands and claps in rhythm. Well, see for yourself right here.

9:25 p.m.: Game over. The Spokane Chiefs register a 3-2 victory thanks to Jared Cowen's third-period goal. Cowen, a former Saskatoon Contacts defenceman, is named the game's first star.

10:15 p.m.: The 10,366 blue seats are empty. The lights buzz and newspaper writers tap out stories. Once the stories are filed, it's time for a nightcap at the Red Lion.

Scout
10-23-2007, 04:43 PM
Here's the third installment of the diary, filed from Kennewick, Wash., and Portland, Ore. on Oct. 21:




Saturday, Oct. 20

The last hurrah in Spokane, Wash.:

8:20 a.m.: Despite a semi-late night of beers with the Spokane Chiefs' beat writer and their play-by-play man, I'm wide awake more than an hour before the wake-up call. I'm never up this early at home. Slacker, you say? Well, as a tradeoff for sleeping a little later than most people, I get to work evenings and weekends from August through March.

10:05 a.m.: The breakfast spread includes porridge, eggs, hashbrowns and fresh fruit. Morning meals are never this good at Wolfe Central Station.

12:06 p.m.: A random observation . . .

The people of Spokane are nice - very nice. You can't pass anyone on the sidewalk without drawing a wide smile and a friendly greeting. The locals don't cross the street to say hello, but they've probably thought about it. You'd be hard-pressed to find more pleasant people.

Furthermore, the Chiefs have a loyal fan base and the diehards create a tremendous game-day atmosphere - one of the best in the league. But for the average Spokane citizen, hockey lags far behind football in popularity. Guess how many high school football teams The Spokesman-Review newspaper tracks . . . 160 on any given Friday, says reporter Jessica Brown.

12:27 p.m.: A short hike across the Senator Sam C. Guess Memorial Bridge leads me towards downtown. I pass Fast Eddie's Pub, which looks a little too fast for me, even in daylight. I wander through the old brick buildings that abound in Spokane. Eventually, I land at a bookstore and enter with the intention of supplementing my road-trip book, which is Women by Charles Bukowski. If Bukowski was a hockey player, he'd be Harold Snepsts - rugged, unrefined and supremely surly.

12:47 p.m.: So much for diversification. I leave the bookstore with another Bukowski book: Ham on Rye. It's used and older than every member of the Saskatoon Blades. The clerk tries to interest me in a frequent-shopper card. I politely decline, adding, "I'm not from anywhere near here." When I say that I'm from Canada, he asks, "Alberta?" I reply, "No, Saskatchewan." "Oh," he says. "If you had said 'Alberta' you could have been exempt from the tax."

Awww, shucks. Being honest cost me 60 cents. (Or roughly 61 cents Canadian.)

1:45 p.m.: Players load the bus. Pre-game meal follows. Today's menu features baked tortellini, chicken breasts, steamed broccoli and salad.

2:15 p.m.: The post-meal conversation turns to teeth. Chris Durand has the gappy grin of an old-time hockey player.

"Last night I had a dream that I lost a tooth, so I'm definitely wearing my mouthguard tonight," says Sam Klassen.

Fellow defenceman John Flatters nearly lost one for real in the game against Spokane. He blocked a shot with his face.

"I've got padding on almost all of my body and I decide to block it with this," he says, pointing to his swollen kisser. "I got credit for a blocked shot, though."

"Flatters," I say, "It doesn't surprise me that you blocked it with your face. I bet you were an unmasked goalie in a past life."

"Or a grizzly bear," he replies with a grin.

2:26 p.m.: With checkout complete, the team hits the road for Kennewick, Wash., home of the Tri-City Americans.

4:45 p.m.: Bus arrives at Toyota Center in Kennewick. Two hours and 15 minutes until game time.

5:05 p.m.: A scout from the Columbus Blue Jackets quizzes coach Lorne Molleken about some of the Blades. Arena staffers huddle near a big-screen TV to watch a college football match between the Washington Huskies and Oregon Ducks.

5:58 p.m.: A little piece of me dies when I realize that the Toyota Center concessions no longer sell frozen bananas.

7:07 p.m.: Game on.

9:28 p.m.: The buzzer sounds on a 3-1 Tri-City victory. The Blades dominate play at times, but the offence lacks finish and the Saskatoon goaltenders, Braden Holtby and Garrett Zemlak, each surrender a soft goal.

10:05 p.m.: Through the wonders of technology, I'm able to transmit my game story wirelessly to Saskatoon while sitting in a Red Robin burger joint. This post-game meal is a welcome change from pasta.

10:38 p.m.: The bus departs Kennewick, Wash., for Portland, Ore.

2:10 a.m.: Bus arrives at Portland's Memorial Coliseum. Players unload their bags and leave their gear to dry overnight. Blades forward Ondrej Fiala, who played in this building plenty as a member of the Everett Silvertips, points out the arena's quirks: tiny benches and springy boards.

2:30 a.m.: The Saskatoon delegation wades through a traditional Ethiopian wedding celebration to check in at the Holiday Inn Portland. Bedtime at last!




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Here's the fourth installment of the diary, filed from Portland, Ore. on Oct. 22:




Sunday, Oct. 21

9:30 a.m.: Just as the phone rang for my wake-up call, I was slamming on the brakes in dreamland to avoid hitting a buffalo that was crossing the highway. The animal had the white and rusty-brown markings of a cow, but it was definitely a buffalo. Too much information? Any psychoanalysis is welcome.

10 a.m.: During breakfast at the hotel, the players hatch a plan to spend their day-off playing laser tag.

11 a.m.: The players board the bus en route to their laser-tag adventure. Meanwhile, the hotel staff opens the lounge area so a few of us elders can watch football. We've got two TVs going and I also log on to hot93.com to listen to the Hilltops' game in Edmonton.

3 p.m.: The Hilltops beat the Edmonton Wildcats 34-10 to earn their first trip to the Canadian Bowl since 2003. Sports editor Doug McConachie calls and advises me to make travel arrangements to Winnipeg, site of this year's Canadian Bowl on Nov. 3.

4 p.m.: In the hotel lobby, I meet with the Blades' coaches, training staff, team executives and play-by-play man Les Lazaruk. We walk to the nearby Memorial Coliseum for a 5 p.m. match between the Portland Winter Hawks and the Chilliwack Bruins.

7:20 p.m.: Chilliwack wins 4-3. We walk to BJ's Restaurant for post-game grub. The service is slow, but the honey-crisp chicken salad is worth the wait.

10 p.m.: Most of the entourage calls it a night. Four of us - assistant coach David Struch, assistant GM Jarrod Brodsky, bus driver Pete and me - decide to poke our noses downtown. Ahmed, the driver of the hotel shuttle, recommends that we check out Portland City Grill. It's on the 30th floor of a highrise. The night view of the city is spectacular. We could not have found this place on our own. We'll definitely be back.

dagley
10-23-2007, 08:52 PM
This is awesome, great work. Kind of makes you feel like a part of the team for a short while.

hobster
10-23-2007, 10:17 PM
This team is in trouble when a team like Portland takes it too you, the Blades offence didn't sound dangerous once so ever.

Trav
10-23-2007, 10:26 PM
by the looks of it. Four goals on Holtby isn't great so my guess is he could be having an off night again, could be wrong though. Team needs to do something or they'll be coming back home winless.

hobster
10-23-2007, 10:46 PM
The problem is offence ,when you score 6 goals in your last 4 games your not gonna win many at all. The Raiders at the start of the day were the laughing stock for not being able too do anything on the ice. Well 24 hours can sure change things as it is now the Blades in the raiders shoes, and it sure sucks.

Scout
10-24-2007, 08:26 AM
Here's the fifth installment of the diary, filed from Portland, Ore. on Oct. 23:




Monday, Oct. 22

9:30 a.m.: The breakfast spread includes porridge, cereal and fresh fruit.

10:30: I walk to the nearby Memorial Coliseum to do some interviews before practice. Stepping into this 10,000-seat arena is like taking a step back in time. It doesn't appear to have changed much since it opened in 1960. The yellowish lighting creates a hazy atmosphere reminiscent of an old-time boxing arena. The padded seats - blue in the lower bowl and red in the upper deck - resemble old theatre chairs. Spectators in the first five rows sit in metal folding chairs. That's if anyone shows up. The online report for Sunday's game shows a crowd of 2,281, but even that seems like a stretch.

11 a.m. to noon: Players practise at Memorial Coliseum.

12:25 p.m.: In between writing stories in my room, I make time for a treadmill workout in the hotel fitness room.

2:38 p.m.: The hotel shuttle delivers the elders - coaches, trainers, etc. - to the Lloyd Center shopping mall. The complex features a skating rink with boards but no glass. Curling rings are painted on the ice surface.

"Do people actually curl here?" I ask a guy in a nearby kiosk.

"Yeah," he says enthusiastically.

"But the ice isn't even pebbled," I reply. "Curling ice has to be pebbled so the rocks will slide."

His smile drops. I don't think he knows what I'm talking about.

"Well," he says after a pause, "I think it's just a bunch of guys who come early in the morning to get away from their wives."

"Oh."

2:53 p.m.: Late lunch consists of sushi from the mall food court. Afterwards, we wander around the mall for an hour or so. I try on a Hollister T-shirt because if former Global sports guy Chris Harris thinks it's cool, it must be. The shirt looks really awesome - just not on me.

4:05 p.m.: Blades trainer Graham (Spike) Watt feigns giddiness when he sees the Zamboni resurfacing the mall's skating rink. Even though we've witnessed this routine thousands of times before, we sidle up to the boards and watch. Beside us, a retired couple really is in awe of this magical machine.

"I've seen them on TV," says the woman, "but I didn't know what they did, so I asked the driver. I didn't know if they polished it or put water on it."

We play dumb.

"So what DOES it do?" I ask.

"It sprays water on it and then it freezes!" she says as if she's discovered the Caramilk secret.

"Ohhhh," I reply. "Crazy!"

4:08 p.m.: Spike and I stumble across a mini-manicure in progress at one of the mall kiosks. A tiny saleswoman is buffing a fingernail of Blades defenceman Colton MacPherson. He and fellow rookie Travis Toomey implore me to try it. I volunteer my left thumbnail. Within five seconds, the nail's surface is smooth and glistening. Then the woman delivers her sales pitch. She produces a box of pampering products and says: "You get this for your girlfriend for Christmas."

"Hmmm," I say. "That's not really going to work unless you sell girlfriends, too."

4:50 p.m.: I meet with Spike and assistant GM Jarrod Brodsky in the hotel lobby. We walk to the nearby Rose Garden, home of the NBA's Portland Trail Blazers. It's "Meet Your Team Day" and thousands of fans line up outside the building. The doors open at 5 p.m. and fans flood into the arena which seats nearly 20,000 for basketball. Some of the lesser-known Trail Blazers sign autographs on the concourse. The main event is an intra-squad scrimmage. We stick around just long enough to see No. 1 draft pick Greg Oden hobble to centre court on crutches. His NBA debut has been delayed for a year after he had major knee surgery - the same procedure that hockey star Steve Yzerman endured.

6:45 p.m.: The Brodsky family treats the Blades' staff and guests to dinner at the Portland City Grill - the spectacular restaurant on the 30th floor of a downtown highrise. After dinner, our 10-person entourage walks to a nearby establishment to observe some Monday-night karaoke. It's not exactly amateur hour, though. A live band backs each crooner. One woman pulls off a stellar rendition of Stairway to Heaven. Then, a husky gentleman nails White Wedding, even though he looks more like Bob Seger than Billy Idol. The treat of the night is a Prince clone who sings Purple Rain. He's not the most talented vocalist in the bar, but he's put a lot of time - apparently his whole life - into mimicking Prince. It's difficult not to smile.

Portland is known for producing indie-rock luminaries such as Elliott Smith and The Shins, but this city also hatches some serious karaoke all-stars.


The StarPhoenix 2007

Scout
10-24-2007, 08:27 AM
Here's the sixth installment of the diary, filed from Portland, Ore. on Oct. 24:




Tuesday, Oct. 23

8:55 a.m.: I check my watch and see that it's a few minutes before the scheduled wake-up call. I get out of bed and take the phone off the hook so that it won't ring continuously while I'm in the shower. Breakfast is scheduled for 9:30 a.m.

9:28 a.m.: The Blades' private dining room is empty when I arrive. Hmmm. I worry that I've missed the meal. I check my watch again and realize that I'm actually an hour early. I've kept my watch on Saskatoon time so that I can meet the deadlines back home. With an hour to kill, I walk up the street to Walgreens to buy a mini flashlight. The reading lights on the left side of the bus (my side) keep shorting out, so I've been unable to put much of a dent in my Bukowski books.

9:30 a.m. (the real 9:30 a.m.): Breakfast consists of the usual . . . porridge, cereal and fresh fruit.

11 a.m.: Blades have game-day skate at Memorial Coliseum.

Noon: I hunker into my hotel room to do some writing and wade through some e-mail. A message from Red Deer Rebels broadcaster Cam Moon gives me a good laugh. In a previous hockey life, Moon was a diminutive goaltender with the Blades. "I remember back in the late '80s and early '90s (the Memorial Coliseum) was still the home of the NBA's Blazers," writes Moon. "The shower heads were so high, the water was cold by the time it got down to me."

1:30 p.m.: I start making travel arrangements to get to the Nov. 3 Canadian Bowl in Winnipeg. Within an hour I have my flights and hotel booked. The Internet is a wonderful thing.

2:30 p.m.: Pre-game meal consists of the usual pasta, tomato sauce and salad. I'm just about the furthest thing from being fussy, but I'm declaring my house a pasta-free zone when I get home.

3:15 p.m.: I head to the fitness room to squeeze in a jog on the treadmill. I'm feeling pretty good about myself until a Sidney Crosby biography comes on TV. It reminds me of a quote I heard long ago: "By age 17, Mozart had already played three world tours. I've got a lot of catching up to do."

4:15 p.m.: Our delegation checks out of the hotel and the players pack the bus. I walk to Memorial Coliseum.

5:15 p.m.: An hour and 45 minutes before game time, four of the 10,016 seats are occupied - all by Saskatonians. Blades president Jack Brodsky and coach-GM Lorne Molleken chat in two of the folding chairs behind the home net. Defencemen Teigan Zahn and Ryan Funk sit three sections away while taping their sticks. Zahn, who's scheduled to play tonight after missing three games due to a concussion, has Nickelback pumping through his iPod.

6:05 p.m.: I set up my laptop in the press box, which is not much more than a few tables planted in the middle of the stands. I'm reminded of my last visit here a couple of years ago when the Teddy Bear Toss promotion was on and the building was nearly full. I remember sitting with Blades broadcaster Les Lazaruk and taking a couple of stuffed animals in the back of the head after Portland's first goal. There's no threat of a sellout tonight. As one of Molleken's former players, Greg de Vries, used to say: "The Seat Family is here tonight."

6:25 p.m.: The teams hit the ice for warm-up. Thanks to wireless Internet, I'm able to scan my e-mail. I find a message entitled "Welcome to Everett," which is where we'll head right after tonight's game. The note is from Marty Aalto, who introduces himself as a member of the Everett Silvertips' booster club.
"If you have time Wednesday night, please drop by the Silvertips' booster club table at the East end of the rink and introduce yourself," writes Aalto. "There is group of us 'old' guys who hang around during warm-ups and the intermissions talking hockey and telling lies."
I'm looking forward to visiting the Everett Events Center, the lone WHL rink I haven't experienced.

7:09 p.m.: Game on.

8:41 p.m.: It's 2-2 after two. The crowd is small, but energetic. The local fans sense that their team might be on the verge of snapping a six-game losing streak. "Tonight's the night," says a guy behind me. It was only an hour ago that a woman in the same section was screaming, "Come on, Hawks! This stinks!"

8:46 p.m.: My favourite elderly heckler is at it again. "You can't hit a puck worth beans!" she says.

8:54 p.m.: All heck breaks loose. Portland's Aaron McGill bowls over Braden Holtby and dislodges the Saskatoon goaltender's mask. Blades defencemen Ryan Funk and John Flatters pounce on McGill. Portland's Matt Betker also gets involved.
When it's all sorted out, two players draw majors and game misconducts: McGill for charging and Flatters for fighting. Portland ends up with a power play as Funk gets an extra minor for roughing.
The Portland fans boo vociferously as the replay screens show the incident over and over.

9:21 p.m.: Game over. Portland scores two third-period goals to win 4-2 and snap a six-game losing streak. I rush down to the dressing rooms to get quotes from both sides. Then I scurry out to the bus to put the finishing touches on my story.

9:53: As the bus pulls away from Memorial Coliseum, I'm still pounding away on my laptop. I transmit my story back to The StarPhoenix through a wireless Internet connection and the file arrives seven minutes ahead of deadline. No one from the Blades utters a word during the seven-minute ride to the restaurant.

10 p.m.: The silence ends as soon as the Blades enter B.J.'s Pizza for their post-game meal. A choir has commandeered one corner of the restaurant. They're singing barbershop-quartet style, but there's about 40 of them, not four. They're talented, but a team that just lost for the fourth straight game doesn't make for a very interested audience.

10:44 p.m.: We're on the road, bound for Everett, Wash. Coach Molleken is unhappy with his team's work ethic against Portland and he arranges to play the game film on the bus's mini TVs while we travel.

1:46 a.m.: We arrive at the Everett Events Center and the players unload the bus.

2:15 a.m.: After a short drive, we land at the Best Western Navigator Inn. We'll be headquartered for the final three days of the trip. I can barely keep my eyes open to hit SEND . . .

Scout
10-25-2007, 07:28 PM
Here's the seventh installment the diary, filed from Everett, Wash. on Oct. 25:




Wednesday, Oct. 24

8:50 a.m.: I have renewed appreciation for the rigors of bus travel. Sleep patterns are easily disrupted. I'm awake before the wake-up call, but I'm still dead-tired.

9:30 a.m.: Colton Gillies skillfully works the waffle iron in the hotel's continental breakfast area. I'm a bit zombie-like and not in the mood for do-it-yourself breakfast.

"Looks complicated," I say to Gillies.

"Oh, come on, Cory. You just pour it in and rotate."

The kid should have an infomercial.

10:30 a.m.: After breakfast, the players and coaches gather to watch film.

10:42 a.m.: We've been here barely eight hours and I've already locked myself out of my room. While I'm getting a replacement key card, a guy in the lobby asks me: "Do you have a brother named Steve?"

"Uh, no."

"Are YOU Steve?" he persists.

I almost wasn't sure. Sleep has been elusive in the last couple of days.

11:15 a.m.: Blades skate at Everett Events Centre.

1:45 p.m.: Team departs for pre-game meal at Olive Garden, but I stay back as I plan to rendezvous with some Seattle folks for pre-game grub a little later.

2:20 p.m.: Ex-Blade Chad Klassen once told me that if he was a rock star, he'd request Red Vines in his dressing room. "They're a licorice that you can get only in the States," said Klassen, who spent 4 1/2 seasons with the Spokane Chiefs. "They're kind of plain-tasting but once you acquire a taste for them, they're amazing."

I see Red Vines in the hotel's vending machine and decide to test Klassen's theory. I take a bite. Then another. And another. Uh, exactly how long does it take to "acquire a taste" for them, Chad? They're like Twizzlers that have been left out on a countertop - for days.

4:15 p.m.: I'm in a cab, returning from a meal at One Twelfth Avenue Diner. The driver asks what brings me to town. I tell him.

"I've never actually been to a hockey game," he says. "It's the only sport where they give the players weapons and tell them to go fight."

I laugh.

"Well, that's not exactly right," I respond. "They don't TELL them to go fight; it just happens sometimes."

He asks what newspaper I represent and I tell him, "The Saskatoon StarPhoenix."

"The who's-it-what's-it?" he says with a furrowed brow.

I repeat it . . . slowly.

"And where's that?"

"In Saskatchewan."

"Isn't that in Alaska or is it Canada?"

"It's in Canada."

"Oh. That explains why I've never heard of it."

4:45 p.m.: Team bus departs for the Everett Events Center. Game-time tonight is 7:05 p.m.

5:20 p.m.: Puck drop is still more than 100 minutes away, but a lineup at least 12-car-lengths long trails down the block at the Everett Events Center. Fans have arrived early to nab Taylor Ellington bobblehead dolls. A couple of years ago, the Silvertips gave away bobbleheads of Saskatoon native Riley Armstrong.

5:35 p.m.: I've been poking a bit of fun at Americans' reaction to hockey, but all kidding aside, the Pacific Northwest has some hardcore fans who know their stuff. I encounter two of them - Allen King and Jon Whiting - at a Thai restaurant across the street from the Everett Events Center. King is alone when I spot him wearing a Blade jersey with the old dozer crest. The game-worn sweater once belonged to forward Derek Halldorson.

"I got it from a guy in Tri-City," says King, who has an impressive collection of 130 jerseys, most of them from WHL teams. "There's only one WHL team's jersey I don't have and only one (WHL) rink I've never been to and it's in the city where I was born: Edmonton."

Whiting and his four-year-old son, Torrey, join King for the pre-game dinner. They're all from nearby Seattle and they root for their Thunderbirds. King also brought a Seattle jersey that Chris Durand - now a Blade - wore with the T-Birds during his rookie season in 2003-04. Durand left quite an impression on King.

"During his rookie season, I don't remember him losing a faceoff in Seattle," says King.

King and Whiting have impressed me with both their knowledge and their passion for hockey.

6:52 p.m.: I find my way up to the press box at the Everett Events Center. The opening face-off is 13 minutes away and I discover that I've left my laptop cord in my hotel room. Honestly, I lead the league in absent-mindedness.

I've got 90 minutes worth of battery juice left and that won't get me through to deadline.

6:55 p.m.: But wait . . . Seattle Times writer Jim Riley saves the day! His laptop cord is compatible with my computer, so I'll be able to charge it during intermissions and get through the night. I met Jim a few years back when he worked in Tri-City. Now I owe him my first-born.

7:03 p.m.: The Everett fans have a tradition of singling out a couple of words during the national anthems: "love" during O Canada, and "fight" during The Star Spangled Banner. Riley explains it this way: " 'Love' for (former Silvertip) Mitch Love and 'fight' because it's a hockey crowd."

7:05 p.m.: As the puck drops, I'm seated between Riley and the Everett Herald's Nick Patterson. Those are two top-notch wingers.

7:20 p.m.: The Everett crowd delivers another of its signature sayings after the Blades kill off a penalty to defenceman Sam Klassen. The public address announcer says, "The Saskatoon Blades have returned to full strength." Then the crowd adds: "And they still suck!" They shout it every time, says Riley.

9:20 p.m.: The game ends and the Silvertips win 4-3. Saskatoon's Walker Wintoneak ties the game late, only to have Everett's Shane Harper net the winner with 1:04 left in regulation.

9:59 p.m.: I transmit my story from the bus and call desk editor Jeff Losie to make sure he's received it. The post-game scramble, with deadline looming, is always an adrenaline journey. Often, I have 15 minutes or less get down to the dressing rooms, get quotes and wrap up my story.

10:11 p.m.: The team arrives at Vintage Cafe for a steak-sandwich supper.

10:53 p.m.: The bus arrives back at the hotel. Unfortunately for the Blades, they can't unload the losses.

dagley
10-26-2007, 10:43 AM
"The Saskatoon Blades have returned to full strength"

then fans scream "And they still suck!"

Haha, I cant wait to listen to the game tonight.

Scout
10-26-2007, 12:02 PM
Here's the eighth installment of the diary, filed from Everett, Wash. on Oct. 26:




Thursday, Oct. 25

9 a.m.: I'm on time for breakfast in the hotel lobby, but the waffle-making party is already in full swing. My appetite isn't voracious so, rather than waiting in line for waffles, I settle for a muffin and coffee.

9:20 a.m.: Bus transports team from hotel to Everett Events Center for morning practice. It's a 15-minute drive.

10 a.m.: While the team is on the ice, trainer Graham (Spike) Watt is sorting through a pile of white hockey socks in the Blades' dressing room.

"Lots of mending to do," he says with a sigh.

Then, to no one in particular, he mumbles: "It's a glamorous job, but Hilty and Spike can do it . . ."

The trainers repair about a dozen socks after every game and practice.

Meanwhile, head coach Lorne Molleken inquires about defenceman Jyri Niemi, who has been sidelined by a wrist injury. Niemi is riding a stationary bike in the hallway while his teammates skate.

"Jyri gonna be ready to go?" asks Molleken.

"No," says trainer Steve (Hilty) Hildebrand.

11:30 a.m.: The Brandon Wheat Kings arrive at Everett Events Center just as the Blades are coming off the ice. Saskatoon defenceman Ryan Funk and others greet Brandon forward Robert Brandis, who started the season with the Blades. Meanwhile, Blades winger Derek Hulak is still wearing skates as he emerges from the dressing room to chat with Wheaties rookie forward Brayden Schenn; both players hail from Saskatoon.

Down the hall, the Blades' brass chats with Wheat Kings coach-GM Kelly McCrimmon. They're rehashing a disallowed goal from the night before in the Brandon/Tri-City game. Brandon's Matt Calvert was originally credited with a goal in the shootout, but then referee Andy Thiessen disallowed it and Brandon lost 5-4.

12:30 p.m.: After practice, the Blades head straight for a shopping haven called Seattle Premium Outlets, which has 111 stores. It's like Preston Crossing on steroids.

Before browsing, I have to do some work. I set up shop on a table in the food court. I transcribe my interviews from earlier in the day and get to work on my laptop.

Afterwards, I cover the sprawling mall-scape. The peak of my shopping experience comes early: I buy a beige J. Crew sweater after Curtis Hamilton's mother gives it the thumbs-up. I'm old enough to know that a man needs a woman's eye before he buys.



3:30 p.m.: The bus heads back to the hotel. En route, I interview Colton Gillies and Justin McCrae, who have been named to Team WHL for the final game of the ADT Canada-Russia Challenge in Medicine Hat on Nov. 29.

When the bus arrives at the Best Western, coach Molleken tells the school-aged players to get their homework and meet in the lobby in 15 minutes. That draws heckling from the back of the bus where the vets sit: "Woohoo! Study hard, boys!"

I head back to my room to do my own homework: the story on Gillies and McCrae.

5:45 p.m.: The bus takes the team to Olive Garden for supper. A couple of shoe-check attempts are foiled. Call me crazy, but I wouldn't intentionally try to tick off 6-foot-6 Garrett Klotz by sneaking under a table and putting salad dressing on his shoes.

6:40 p.m.: After dinner, the bus takes the players back to the hotel, but a handful of us wander to a nearby mall. Within an hour, we're making the 30-minute walk back to the hotel.

8:10 p.m.: I go for a short workout on the treadmill and then undue it all by eating an ice cream bar and a Crunchy chocolate bar.

10:53 p.m.: Bedtime. Tomorrow we check out. Then it's on to Seattle for a game, followed by a 20-hour bus ride home . . .

tyeryan9
10-26-2007, 02:55 PM
Good work Scout. Best wishes in the final game of the trip tonight!

sbtatter
10-26-2007, 04:01 PM
I've been loving this thread!!

dagley
10-27-2007, 09:29 PM
No offense, but if we lose to Portland tonight...I'm gonna ****ing flip.

Scout
10-28-2007, 12:49 PM
Here's the ninth installment of the diary, filed from Seattle on Oct. 27:



Friday, Oct. 26

9:27 a.m.: I'm awake only a few minutes when the phone rings. I expect it's the wake-up call, but instead it's a cab driver calling to confirm an 11:30 a.m. pick-up at the hotel. I'm heading into Seattle ahead of the team so that I can meet with Dwight Perry of the Seattle Times.

10:05 a.m.: Coach Lorne Molleken addresses the team in the hotel lobby during breakfast.

"Guys who have homework will stay here and do that this morning. The rest of the guys will go and load the bus."

The latter order pre-empts any heckling from the veterans.

"We should take at least one rookie," says 20-year-old centre Chris Durand.

The coach disagrees.

"You guys thought it was funny yesterday," Molleken says with a slight grin.

10:10 a.m.: Defenceman John Flatters plops his waffle breakfast on the countertop and takes a seat beside me. I was with him yesterday when he was heckling the kids who had to do homework.

"Have fun loading the bus," I tell him.

Flatters is not impressed.

"You," he says, "have been with the team three years or more, right? So that makes you a vet and vets are loading the bus."

"No," I say. "I'm going to Seattle early."

I wonder aloud about the bus driver's whereabouts. I have to put my luggage on the bus before catching the cab to Seattle.

"You can just put it in someone else's room, like Hilty's room, and it'll get loaded," says Flatters. "You can put it in my room - although, you chirped earlier so I don't know if you should leave your stuff unattended."

10:20 a.m.: As the bus takes the vets to pack up, school-aged players chip away at homework in the hotel lobby. Travis Toomey writes an English paper on Lester B. Pearson, while Gaelan Patterson profiles Gordie Howe for the same class. Stefan Elliott works on math and French; Colton MacPherson pulls out a psychology textbook and a biography of Bobby Orr.

11:30 a.m.: Kate the cab driver arrives right on time. She tells me to expect a 30-minute ride into downtown Seattle. Fortunately, we should beat the traffic snarl which begins at about 1 p.m. every day.

12:10 p.m.: The cab pulls up to King Street Station, which is right beside Qwest Field, home of the Seattle Seahawks. I've got almost an hour before my ride arrives, so I ask a young lady if there's a coffee shop nearby.

"Yeah," she says, "just up that street. There's a Starbucks on the corner, but there's a better one a block down."

I ponder whether it's treason for someone from Seattle to slag Starbucks. I take her advice and ignore Starbucks in favour of Zeitgeist.

1 p.m.: Dwight Perry arrives at King Street Station to fetch me. He's a sports columnist and desk editor with the Seattle Times. Dwight knows one of my StarPhoenix supervisors, Cam Hutchinson, through a network of North American sports columnists.

"I'm old enough to remember when Mark Messier's dad played for Portland," Dwight says as we wander along the Seattle waterfront.

Hockey used to be bigger in these parts.

"Then the Sonics got here; then baseball got here; then football got here. Hockey kind of got pushed out."

Furthermore, one of the Sonics' former owners ensured that KeyArena was renovated so that it would be unsuitable for NHL hockey. Blocks of bleachers have to be removed to accomodate a 200-foot sheet of ice.

1:30 p.m.: We stroll through Pike Place Market. The winding corridors are full of fresh provisions - from fish to flowers to fruit. I pick up some souvenirs (the non-perishable kind) and then we're back outdoors, enjoying what feels like a spring day.

"The city stays pretty green except for two weeks when it's 80 degrees (Fahrenheit) and everything turns brown," says Dwight.

"Really?" I ask. "We have a two-week run when everything IS green."

3:40 p.m.: After catching a bite to eat, we're en route to the Seattle Times building. Every day at 4:15 p.m., the sports editors and deskers "meet and vow to kick some butt and put a paper out," says Dwight. The Times goes head-to-head with the Seattle Post-Intelligencer.

4 p.m.: The Times' sports department consists of 13 writers and 13 deskers. (That's about four times the size of The StarPhoenix sports department.) Bobbleheads and balls clutter desks. Life-sized cutouts of Ichiro and Ken Griffey Jr. keep watch.

Not to be ignored is the ring-toss venue. The sportskies have an office league! They even have a tournament bracket and a betting line for each staffer. The "program" describes one of the favourites, who's listed at 5-1, as follows: "You've gotta respect a guy whose two favourite words are 'wanna toss?' "

And yes, they hand out trophies. Somebody even logs career win-loss records and . . . wait for it . . . rings-per-game averages.

4:15 p.m.: At today's meeting, editors and deskers plan the content and design of the Saturday and Sunday papers. The World Series and football get top billing.

5:05 p.m.: Dwight drops me off at the base of the Space Needle, which is a stone's throw from KeyArena. It's Hockey Night in Seattle.

7:43 p.m.: What was supposed to be a 7:30 p.m. start gets underway 13 minutes late for no good reason. Those 13 minutes are an eternity on deadline.

"We're notorious for never starting on time," says Ian Henry, the Thunderbirds' director of media relations.

At least he's honest.

9:29 p.m.: Seattle defenceman Scott Jackson is sent off for high sticking late in the game.

"What's high sticking?" asks a woman beside me.

Yes, she seriously said that. What's even more amazing is that she's part of the "official" stats crew. Her role is to track which players are on the ice when goals are scored.

To be fair, though, T-Birds media relations director Ian Henry is one of the best in the league at what he does. He's full of useful tidbits and he's exceedingly helpful.

9:58 p.m.: Game over. Seattle wins 5-1 and Saskatoon goes winless on its five-game trek through the U.S. Division. Back at The StarPhoenix, desk editor Bob Florence gives me a 15-minute deadline extension, which is just enough time to get downstairs and get a quick quote from Blades coach Lorne Molleken.

"In some of the games (on this trip) we played hard enough to get rewarded," he says, "but tonight and in Portland (a 4-2 loss) - not a chance."

10:32 p.m.: A logjam of bodies clogs the aisle of the bus as players try to find their seats. Tempers are already short, given the losing streak, and a human traffic jam doesn't help.

"Sit down," says one player to another.

"I can't because your **** is all over it!"

10:38 p.m.: With the bus still parked in the bowels of KeyArena, players sit in their seats to eat post-game pizza.

10:45 p.m.: The bus embarks on what is likely to be an 18- to 20-hour trip home to Saskatoon.




----------




Here's the final installment of the diary, filed from Seattle, Saskatoon and several points in between on Oct. 27:

Saturday, Oct. 27

5:23 a.m. (back to Saskatoon time): I've managed to catch a few Z's. The bus is stopped at a gas station. I know we won't be here for long, but I take the opportunity to make a pitstop of my own.

Getting to the bathroom at the back of the bus is easier said than done. Bodies splay across the aisle and stray limbs are like trip wires. Rather than navigating that gauntlet, I run across the parking lot in sock feet and find the restroom. On my way out, I ask the clerk where we are.

"Hayden, Idaho," she says.

7:58 a.m.: The bus pulls up to the border crossing at Eastport, Idaho. A Canadian guard boards the bus and asks a few questions. Within a few moments, he waves us on. Crossing into the United States was much more difficult: "Everybody off the bus; have your passports ready for inspection."

12:40 p.m.: We stop at a McDonald's in Lethbridge. Assistant coach David Struch has pre-ordered the food: 64 quarter-pounders, 32 orders of fries and 32 Cokes.

1:17 p.m.: The ride home has been mostly silent to this point. The volume picks up as we depart Lethbridge. Travis Toomey, the unofficial movie administrator, fires up The Departed on the bus's DVD system. We're at least six hours from home.

1:46 p.m.: Time for a driver change at Taber, Alta. Petey gets a round of applause from the players as he steps out from behind the wheel.

5:05 p.m.: The bus stops at Tim Hortons in Swift Current. Everybody fuels up for the home stretch.

5:35 p.m.: How about one more movie to get us home? Enemy At The Gates hits the screens. An impromptu history lesson ensues when Travis Toomey asks Finnish import Jyri Niemi about his country's role in the Second World War. The Finns, explains Niemi, first fought the Russians who took over part of northern Finland. (The Russians remain in possession of that land to this day.) The Finns later fought against the Nazis.

8:08 p.m.: After a journey of more than 20 hours from Seattle to Saskatoon, the bus grinds to a halt at Credit Union Centre. Coach Lorne Molleken addresses his players about some events for the upcoming week.

"Tomorrow," he concludes, "is a day off."

At last!

dagley
10-28-2007, 07:55 PM
Great job, it really gives you an insight about what team does throughout the day.