A Spirit That Fears Nothing

There are many sound reasons to repudiate professional sport in general and NHL hockey in particular. After all, the game has been as utterly defiled by cynical, avaricious late-stage capitalism as every other aspect of contemporary existence. The ordinary fan is incessantly encouraged by marketers and advertisers to gamble, guzzle alcoholic beverages and devour kilograms of fast food, which is a bald oxymoron if you contemplate it for a moment. Salaries are stratospherically inflated, as are ticket prices, and what passes for discourse generated by the participants in, and commentators upon, the game is so full of cliches and verbal false limbs that Orwell’s ghost will never stop screaming.

However, there is joy to be found in living vicariously through human beings who are preternaturally good at doing anything as they vie for supremacy in a contest with one another. That joy is exponentially increased, as every dramaturge or poet knows, when a constellation of excellent but fallible characters wade through a literal or figurative hell, suffer and atone in a grueling purgatory, and ultimately breathe the sanctified sweetness of heavenly air. Dante knew this as well as Don Cherry.

As a case in point, consider the Edmonton Oilers. When this season began, they were madly optimistic, having had a glorious playoff run in the previous season that was cut short by the execrable Vegas Golden Knights, who would go on to drink deep from the sacred chalice of Lord Stanley. What other name could drip with as much smug hubris as, “The Golden Knights”?!? Moreover, if the local environs are as arid and debauched as a desert saloon, should hockey be played in them at all?

Hopes were as high as Seth Rogen after a trip to his local dispensary before the lads hit the ice: “The Oilers have an extremely strong team for this upcoming season. Hopefully, all of these questions have positive answers and everything works out well for them. They have a Stanley Cup-contending roster, and hopefully, they can bring home their first championship since 1990.”

Once the gauntlet skittered across that ice, though, the team became a magnet for incredulous ridicule and they seemed destined to be as embarrassing a disappointment as a Trudeau junket to India. One scribbler summarized fans’ sentiments thusly: “One of the worst feelings in the world is when you feel let down because you have high expectations for something. That’s how the first quarter of the NHL season has felt for fans of the Edmonton Oilers. It happens in movies, music, and everywhere in life all the time. It’s like how I felt after listening to The Tragically Hip’s Day for Night album for the first time or trying to watch Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker. Or even getting catfished by someone’s filtered photos on a dating site. HUGE letdown."

Another, more sober and circumspect scribe situated the shocking situation in historical context as follows: “The Edmonton Oilers are off to a historically poor start, with a 5-12-1 record through 18 games in the 2023-24 season. This performance reflects a team lacking in confidence and struggling in various statistical categories. While this start is not the worst in Oilers history, it raises concerns about their playoff prospects. Comparing it to past seasons, the outlook is grim, as the team has only qualified for the playoffs twice from similar situations. Furthermore, projections indicate that the 2023-24 season may be the team’s worst ever, with potential for the fewest points in a full season. Despite the talent on the roster, the Oilers face an uphill battle in their quest for playoff contention." Lamentations loud and long filled Edmonton. Like many communities, this city finds much of its spirit in the victories of its winter warriors and becomes surly and miserable when they suffer defeats.

Thus did it come to pass that Jay Woodcroft, a sentimental favorite of mine because he was the NHL equivalent of a sessional lecturer who was granted tenure—forgive the mingling of hockey and academic life, but I am accustomed to figuratively fusing the two—lost his head coach laurels. He was replaced by Chris Knoblauch, who coached the supernaturally gifted Connor McDaid when he played for the OHL’s Eerie Otters from 2012-2015. Even then, it must have been evident that McDavid would quickly metamorphosize into a heroic figure. Anyone who follows NHL hockey knows this fellow is not cut from mortal cloth, but just have a look at this:

The speed, dexterity and sheer, mischievous brilliance on display here explain (the highlight reel could go on for hours, but you get the idea) why Edmonton fans struggle to believe that the Cup has yet to be hoisted by their supremely capable captain and his merry band. His reunion with his former coach has paid enormous dividends. The Oilers just schooled the Toronto Maple Leafs (grammar is not the strong suit of this storied franchise) 4-2 to extend their current winning streak to 11 consecutive games. Having tumbled into the abyss mere weeks ago, they are currently a single point behind the Los Angeles Kings and only six behind the aforementioned, abominable Golden Knights:

How can this stunning reversal of fortune be explained? While Knoblauch has astutely modified the lines, such that the German genius of Leon Draisaitl (he is arguably the most proficient passer in the league and generates all sorts of offensive pyrotechnics in his own right) now routinely leads to goals that were not finding the mesh before, and Zach Hyman, who has a goal called back at least once a game and is still en route to a fifty goal season (no one is more determined and resilient in that sensitive semicircle of blue ice right on the threshold of the adversary’s net); players who were obviously talented but could not find a way to produce necessary numbers are now firing with the grit and gusto that only a dentally deficient dynamo like Ryan McLeod can display:

Defensively, the Oilers have also improved markedly and Mattias Ekholm (a Swedish Viking who was acquired last year and has continued to plunder villages and slay adversaries for the Oilers ever since) Darnell Nurse and especially Evan Bouchard, who is as dangerous a marksman as he is a shrewd quarterback for the powerplay, have made dramatic contributions. The presence of Paul Coffey, a legendary former Oiler who became a defensive guru behind the bench when Knoblauch seized the reins, has clearly given the blue line a hot cup of veteran wisdom. Stuart Skinner, who floundered in net at the outset, now stands at 30 W 19 L with a 2.61 GAA and a .903 SV%.

I would argue that the most essential change has not been a matter of personnel, strategy or tactics. Instead, it has gradually become clear that what the Oilers lacked during the desperate doldrums of the first phase of this season was, to echo a line attributed to Homer, the will to go on with a spirit that fears nothing. Every human being will encounter disaster, humiliation and disappointment. There are moments that defy reason and logic, when all of the necessary elements seem to be arranged in the optimal configuration, and the results are ghastly. What distinguishes the hero from the hapless has been is the obstinate will to prevail, and the wise humility to recognize that one cannot prevail alone. This team has diverse pieces, but no pawns. All seem devoted to doing everything they can to confound their competitors and fortify their friends. Let us all fight on, whatever our particular battles happen to be, with that same spirit. Golden Knights are waiting to be left gasping in the dust.