Reasons We Love Hockey Part 112

The 112th in our 118-part series.

Doc Emrick

We know he’s something of a controversial figure among our less-enlightened readers, but there’s no denying that, for us, Doc Emrick simply makes hockey better. Sure, it helps that we’ve never known another regular play-by-play guy for the Devils, so hearing him do a call makes us feel more at home, but even so, the man is incomparable. He has a marvelous, welcoming voice that has none of the “well, aren’t my pipes so special” pomposity of some big-time sports broadcasters (*cough*JoeBuck*cough*), his vocabulary is colorful and creative, and his love of hockey (and knowledge of the game) just radiates off the television in waves. When you watch a game called by Doc, you know you’re getting narration from a guy who can’t think of anything he’d rather do than work a hockey game. Any hockey game. He speaks with fondness about all manner of minor-league and largely irrelevant games that he’s called over a staggeringly long career, yet still makes every game he’s calling in the present feel like it has the significance of a Stanley Cup Final. There are some broadcasters who confuse volume with excitement, or who get overly worked up over the smallest things, but Doc is always pitch-perfect in conveying the urgency (or lack thereof) at any point in a game. No one works the ebb and flow of hockey with the same honesty as Doc, who’s not afraid to pipe up about it when things are getting dull, but who is unparalleled in his ability to make the casual observer leap out of his seat when things are getting thrilling. A worked-up Doc isn’t like the broadcasters you chortle at for getting shouty; rather, you don’t even notice he’s shouting because the game just requires it. It’s only when things calm down again that you realize your heart is racing, and Doc is suddenly sounding quieter.

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Reasons We Love Hockey Part 111

The 111th in our 118-part series.

Backbreaking Saves

Last night we watched a Devils-Flyers preseason game that reminded us of one of our very favorite things in hockey: that moment when the goalie steps up and asserts himself on the game with an absolutely crushing save. It wasn’t the usual suspects in this case; Frank Doyle stoned Simon Gagne to preserve a 2-1 lead in the final minute of play. Normally it’s Brodeur we’re watching, and everyone knows Marty can’t stop Gagne to save his life, so it was an especially rare treat to witness Doyle robbing our least favorite Marty-killer.

On any given night, if your team has at least a decent goalie, you’ll see a handful of really good saves, perhaps even a few great ones. But every now and again there is that one that turns the course of the game. Sometimes it’s like Doyle’s save, in the last minute of a close game, but sometimes it’s just a randomly timed thing that’s too good a stop for the other team to overcome. It’s that moment when everyone in the arena is positive the puck is going into the net — and then somehow, amazingly, it doesn’t. If you’re at home, the crowd starts groaning with disgust, thinking the bad guys have scored, then there’s a buzz as everyone realizes what didn’t just happen and tries to grasp what actually did. And then the place goes up, cheering like mad for the goalie’s heroics. And if you’re on the road it’s a joy to watch on TV as the opponent’s fans are already getting to their feet, a goal cheer half-started, and then they have to sit back down in dazed silence as they, too, try to figure out what the hell just happened. On either side, though, the same chorus goes up, “How did that not go in?” And that’s a wonderful thing.

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