Doctor King Schultz
Garian Maborik
Iron man Dan am I right? Nothing can keep this guy out of the lineup, including his performance on the ice.
I call that, and raise you :It's fantastic. I love letting the kids rot in the AHL for "gritteh veterans" who have no business playing NHL hockey.
You can tell he's a clown by just looking at him:
AV proclaims Girardi fit to play vs Islanders...
The question I am most often asked by hockey fans and friends, other than how much that puck to the face hurt nearly three years ago, is this: What are the best things you hear between the benches?
More often than not, the A-plus material is reported on the air, albeit edited for family viewing. As you might expect, frustration is the prevalent emotion expressed on ice, usually in short, four-letter bursts, and most notably after a missed scoring opportunity or a bad turnover or injury.
But every now and then, the interaction between opponents presents humorous or eye-opening snapshots.
For instance, the time Mats Zuccarello - late in a game the Rangers had comfortably tucked away - encouraged an opponent to "score some goals, I have you in my fantasy league." That brought a smile from the foe, even as defeat was imminent. Or the time "Zucc" told Sidney Crosby that Evgeni Malkin was his favorite Penguin. Crosby had no response.
As you would expect, Tanner Glass is a lightning rod for bench-jockeying, often trying to knock star players off their mental game as often as he tries to knock any player off their skates. Glass' general intellect (he's an Ivy Leaguer from Dartmouth) and knowledge of every nugget of a player's career is often put to use in the quest to gain even the slightest advantage for his team. But what amazes me most is that when the gloves actually drop, nothing is said. No words during or after the fight, except perhaps for a "good job" if it's warranted.
Then there is Dylan McIlrath, who has wasted no time establishing himself as a physical and verbal presence. Recently, while yelling at the opposition bench, a player said to McIlrath, "Who the (bleep) are you? I don't even know who you are." McIlrath calmly responded: "Fight me. You'll learn who I am real quick."
Because of my ability to watch replays on a monitor in the box, players from both sides often ask about borderline hits, or goal calls or offsides. In the preseason, Flyers center Claude Giroux asked if a call against his team was legitimate. I didn't think it was and I told him that. "That's OK, our PK could really use the help."
What also stands out from my standing-room-only spot is the human side of the players, coaches and trainers. When a Ranger comes to the bench injured, head trainer Jim Ramsey kicks into part-time mind-reader mode, not wanting to approach the player unless it's significant enough for that player to not persevere through on his own. It's a fascinating give-and-take, especially because players never want to admit injury. They really are most remarkable athletes.
There also is a lot of encouragement and in-game coaching from coaches to players and from one player to another. The coaches' use of iPads on the bench has brought instant teaching moments into the 21st century, but there's still nothing like player-to-player communication. In fact, the most consistently vocal and upbeat player on the Rangers bench might come as a surprise: It's Keith Yandle, who hasn't even been with the team for a full year.
And just a few weeks ago, in the midst of a frustrating loss to the Rangers, Ottawa tough guy Chris Neil tried to throw a late-game message-sending hit on a Ranger between the benches. He missed, and in doing so, his stick slammed into my box and clipped me on the shoulder. I watched as Neil headed to the bench, slammed the door in anger and sat with his head down on the Senators bench.
About 10 seconds later, Neil leaned over and said: "Hey buddy. Sorry about the stick. My bad." I thought that was pretty amazing, given where his mindset was at that split second.
While those moments and others are noteworthy, you might be surprised to hear that the majority of the in-game communication consists of simple line-change orders from Vigneault, brief and specific instruction from assistants Ulf Samuelsson and Scott Arniel, mostly even-tempered messages of motivation and largely level-headed discussions with officials about why something was or wasn't called. It's not nearly the "Slap Shot"-level dialogue that you might imagine.
I call that, and raise you :
heheHow about instead of hockey tomorrow night, our coaches just fight to the death at center ice instead. Winner of that will actually be the loser bc their **** coach is still alive
...In fact, the most consistently vocal and upbeat player on the Rangers bench might come as a surprise: It's Keith Yandle, who hasn't even been with the team for a full year...
"Fight me. You'll learn who I am real quick."
That's pretty hardcore. I'm about it lol.
I feel Jayson Megna will still be in our top six in 2023.
AV has fallen head over heels.
Maybe he said that to AV and that's why he doesn't play now."Fight me. You'll learn who I am real quick."
That's pretty hardcore. I'm about it lol.
"Fight me. You'll learn who I am real quick."
That's pretty hardcore. I'm about it lol.
I call that, and raise you :
We sure Capuano doesn't sell used stereo equipment out of his car?At least his suits fit and they don't have pepperoni grease and mustard stains on them.
We sure Capuano doesn't sell used stereo equipment out of his car?