It’s all downhill from here – My RBC Canadian Open adventure

After leaving the grounds of Glen Abbey Golf Club last Sunday, it was depressingly apparent I wasn’t going to experience professional golf like that for possibly a long, long time. It was as if my golf-viewing career had peaked.

It all began while I stood on the 17th tee box at Swan-E-Set Golf Resort on a sunny weekday morning when a Twitter message notification sounded on my phone. I don’t get a lot of messages on Twitter so naturally my curiosity resulted in me digging through my bag as my brother hit his tee shot.

It was from @ShawGolf. “This is your last chance. Please advise if this is Chris Heavenor.”

They had sent me a message earlier that week asking if this account belonged to Chris Heavenor; I had decided not to answer assuming it was spam, or at best a mediocre trial offer for a new higher speed internet.

Hmmmm. Now I’m torn. Fine, I’ll cave. “What’s up?” I reply.

“Did you submit a photo into Shaw’s Winter Tee Time Contest?” the mysterious Shaw Golf messenger writes back.

“I sure did,” I retort, with excitement quickly growing inside.

“Great! You’re the grand prize winner of our Winter Tee Time Contest!”

I immediately start doing the Joey Tribbiani/Drake Ramoray shifty eyes.

Now remember, I’m on the golf course at this time, and I’m actually playing quite well. As this unexpected little dollop of news begins to sink in, my nerves start to collapse as if my last name ends in ‘de Velde’. I restrain from informing my brother, Cam, as he is playing even better and I wouldn’t want to disrupt that. It was more difficult than you could imagine; I was literally ready to burst at the seams.

After matching pars on 17 (mine was much better than Cam’s), my brother was set to tee off the 18th. I became intensely preoccupied scrolling through my phone reading what the grand prize entails. I couldn’t believe it: Round trip airfare for two to Toronto to catch the RBC Canadian Open, Canada’s National Championship. Holy shnikees! It continues, two nights accommodation downtown Toronto, tickets for both Saturday and Sunday to the tournament in Shaw’s exclusive Skybox on the 18th green, limo service to and from the airport, shuttle service to and from the golf course, and an $800 Puma Golf Prize pack. Say whaaaaaat?

At this time, Cam has just smashed his three-wood down the left-centre of the fairway as he usually does when the big stick isn’t required. As I stood over my ball, my hands began to tremble with the excitement of the recent developments, as well as how entertaining it will be informing my brother of it all. “Don’t hit it left for God’s sakes,” I mutter to myself. Make par on 18 and I’m in with a 79. It would only be my fourth time breaking 80 in my purely amateur golf career. POW!

“Of course…,” I moan as my hands roll over quicker than a Federer cross-court winner. Ball gone. I take a 6 and fire an 81. Thankfully my spirits aren’t too quashed in large thanks to Shaw Golf … and maybe the post-round lager. While Cam and I poured ourselves a healthy pint from the pitcher and briefly began dissecting our rounds, I casually slid over my phone and instructed him to read my message conversation. He surprised me and managed to sound out all the words without any additional assistance.

“NO WAY!” He says looking up from my phone in amazement. “That’s unreal!” he continues, half chuckling under his breath.

“Sooooo who are you gonna take?” He asks cautiously as if there was ever a doubt.

I joke for a moment that I’m going to bring a friend from work, but he sees right through it. I mean, this would be grounds for a pitching wedge to the back of the knee had I been serious. And believe me, that kid can swing a wedge!

While Cam’s busy texting his wife the good news, I check and confirm the dates of the tournament. July 23-27. The dates ring a bell. Did I have plans that week? …CRAP!

My wife and I have a little something called the birth of our third daughter scheduled for July 15th. Errrrr. This could prove difficult. Lucky for me I’m a master at negotiating – or more likely my wife is the greatest.

The Golfing Gods were on my side and our little bundle of joy arrived five days early with no problems. Not that it made life any easier on my wife, but I managed to make my way onto the plane without any major bruising or lacerations. Phew! She’s a keeper.

After landing in Toronto, we were greeted by a transportation service agent who was even holding up a sign with my name on it. Just like in the movies! A brand new Lincoln picked us up and brought us to the first hotel we’d stay for Friday night in Oakville. Cruising in leather luxury. A good start.

Once entering our room, we noticed Shaw was kind enough to lay out our Puma Golf prize packs on the beds in case we wanted to sport any of the gear the next day. Acting like teenage girls in a mall, we excitedly tried on all our clothing and checked ourselves out in the mirror. Completely aware of how ridiculous we were acting, we began making pretend golf swings testing out the clothing. There was just no avoiding it, Puma set us up big time.

The next morning we got geared up and ready to rock and roll to the course. While in the elevator, it stopped on the third floor and in walked Davis Freaking Love III! I didn’t know he missed the cut, but his Ryder Cup luggage compilation suggested it. I avoided the subject and attempted to make some light conversation that a) made it known I was aware of who he was while also playing it cool; and b) avoid being that guy who asks for a picture right away. It only took me ten seconds to fail at both of these. Smooth work, Heavenor.

Once thanking DL3 for the photo, I tracked down Cam to get on the shuttle. Arriving at Glen Abbey was exciting. It was early Saturday morning so not many groups had teed off yet. It didn’t stop Cam and I from catching up with Abbotsford’s Nick Taylor for a couple holes. It was great to finally see him play live.

An early Saturday highlight came on the par 4-8th where Japan’s Ryo Ishikawa missed his approach left. He made a pretty good pitch to about eight feet and went on to drain his par putt. Considering the speed and undulation of the eighth green, it was a great up and down. As Ryo walked passed to the next tee, Cam complemented Ryo on a great par.

“Thanks, man.” Ryo replied as Cam and I grinned at the acknowledgement.

That there, people, is why golf is one of the truly great sports to watch live – player interaction. Could you imagine standing on the goal line beside Roberto Luongo watching him make a save, then complementing it afterwards only to have him reply? Glen Abbey was a real treat in terms of sightlines and fan interaction.

Once we located the Shaw Skybox conveniently placed behind the 18th green, we entered to take a look around. It sat approximately 60-70 people comfortably with 5 rows of seating at the front and five to six high-top tables at the back. Shaw spared no expense. Each seat came with a complimentary blue Shaw golf hat. There was a gourmet chef preparing different meals throughout the day as well as an open bar (which may have been heavily utilized). It was golf-viewing heaven. Just as impressive was the inconspicuous white trailer located directly next to the Shaw Skybox which housed a posh men’s and women’s bathroom. As a casual fan, this little ditty was worth its weight in gold considering the long line ups for the rows of outhouses located in the spectator pavilion. Shaw was not only winning, but running up the score.

After devouring a delicious omelette and maybe a ceasar or two, we made our way back onto the course to pursue Surrey’s Adam Svensson. Impressively, Adam made the cut and was putting together another phenomenal round. He is going to be a great Tour player, mark my words. Svensson went on to post a solid 69 on Saturday putting him in contention for Sunday.

A recent favorite of mine on Tour has been Brooks Koepka. A long hitting young American kid with great hair. Being able to stride down the fairway next to Brooks created such a unique experience. I was loving it. In fact, on a par 4, Brooks pushed his drive right of the fairway into the rough. I made my way to his ball and literally stood four feet away from him while he dialed in a wedge to a front pin. So damn awesome.

When Saturday wrapped up, we caught a shuttle downtown Toronto to the Four Seasons (!) where Shaw was forcing us to stay for the weekend. This was another first for me and let me tell you, if you get the chance to post up at the Four Seasons, you do so. The room was exquisite. I mean, they even had a TV built into the mirror in the bathroom. C’mon, now.

We had decided on finding a nice joint to have a steak but were immediately diverted when Cam noticed six gentlemen in the hotel lounge enjoying some food. To my surprise, four of the six were in fact Gary McCord, Ian Baker-Finch, Frank Nobilo and Peter Kostis. If you’ve ever watched golf on TV, or at least heard it, you would recognize these iconic voices. I’m not quite old enough to remember, but these four gents were also very fine players back in their day.

We quickly strategized and grabbed the table behind them. Why not, right? Cam was in awe staring at them like there was an invisible Victoria’s Secret fashion show in progress on top of their table. My back was turned, but I’m sure I made it more than noticeable by the amount of times I blatantly craned my neck around to eavesdrop.

I made one or two comments towards Mr. Nobilo, who was directly behind me but nothing was sticking. Our grand hopes were these six would finally cave and invite us to their table. No dice. Maybe we set the bar too high. So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I thought of a stunt that was essentially harmless but at best would resonate with these chaps for a few days. I went up to the bar and ordered six shots for their table. I asked our server to then deliver these shots compliments of us.

When the shots arrived, and the server performed his task in a less than award winning fashion, Mr. Baker-Finch stood up, said thank you and shook my hand. There was a slight buzz at the table as the men wondered what the shots were and why I had bought them. I simply replied “It’s a warm up for the Golf Channel tomorrow.” Less than my best, but I’m glad I formulated a coherent sentence given the more-than-six-less-than-twelve Stella Artois I had consumed thus far.

“Hmmm. Golf Channel warm up? Alright, then.” replied Mr. Kostis. I encouraged everyone to drink up and they did so in moderate synchronization.

“Not bad,” announced Mr. Nobilo.

“Yeah, yeah. Pretty good,” answered Mr. Kostis.

One of the group’s associates, a man I was not familiar with pointed at the sides of his jaws claiming that’s where the shot hit him. “Gets ya right here,” he exclaimed through clenched teeth.

“Ok ok, so what was it?” asked Mr. Baker-Finch.

“I’m surprised you all didn’t recognize it,” I said with a fabricated amount of condescension. “That was one of the best there ever was. Those were Arnold Palmers.”

“WHAT?” exclaimed the unknown friend through a relaxed jaw this time.

“You mean a John Daly,” questioned Mr. Baker-Finch, suggesting it was the alcoholic version of an Arnold Palmer.

“No, gentlemen, those were 100% Arnold Palmers. You’re welcome.” I finished, arms spread wide as if finishing an impressive magic trick.

Laughter erupted amongst the table. Well, at least that’s how I prefer to remember it. Either way there were definitely some chuckles. The boys opened up a little more in our direction after that, but we never did manage to squeeze up to that table.

As the group was packing it in for the night, I had explained to them that Cam was planning to play the Canadian National Mid-Amateur Championships at the end of August in Nova Scotia. Bingo. This managed to get their attention. Instantly we were afforded some level of credibility as opposed to the creepy fanboys five minutes prior. Mr. Kostis and Mr. Baker-Finch were quick to supply some advice and comments on the course as well as competition in general. I think the best part of the evening was when Mr. Kostis wished Cam the best of luck. It sounds simple. It’s said everyday in a magnitude of different circumstances. However, when you break it down, how many people participating in the Canadian National Mid-Amateur Championships can say they’ve been personally well-wished by Peter Kostis himself? I’m guessing the answer is between zero and two. All in all, these four boys were the cream of the crop; pure class wrapped up in a variety of button-down dress shirts. Thanks, fellas. You definitely helped make our trip one of the best we’ve ever experienced.

As we parted ways up to our respective rooms, I decided to use the washroom. While walking past the bar I noticed Canadian Rap artist Drake. I stopped (obviously) and quickly expressed how I was a fan of his and not to change much, he’s doing great and it’s working. He smiled, said thanks and shook my hand. I walked down the stairs towards the washroom just shaking my head. Had Jim Carey been standing next to me at a urinal I wouldn’t have even been surprised. What a fun night.

Waking up Sunday morning would have been a chore had we not been getting onto a shuttle and heading out to repeat the previous day. In fact, it’s been a while since I’ve had that much jump in my step at 7:00am regardless.

Starbucks? Check. Shuttle? Check. Sunday at Glen Abbey for the final round of the RBC Canadian Open? Ohhh, big time check.

We started the morning following Adam Svensson again. This time for seven holes. His ball striking was pure and in great tempo, but his putter was killing him that day. He had about three decent looks for birdie and one for par, all within 10 feet, that never got a sniff of the hole. It was unfortunate he couldn’t get the flat stick going, but he’ll be just fine.

Paired up with Svensson on Sunday was a golfer by the name Brian Harmon. He’s been playing well lately on Tour so I was intrigued as to how he would fare only being a few shots back. What quickly stole my attention was not Harmon’s smooth swing. It also wasn’t his deceptive length off the tee despite being smaller in stature. To put bluntly, from my brief experience watching Harmon, he’s got the mouth of a weekend hacker out there. Numerous times we witnessed Harmon swear loud enough for children in the gallery to hear, but he also slammed his driver down on the tee box twice while kicking his tee to the side. It would have been kind of awkward had Cam and I not been a few pops deep at the time.

Now I know what you’re all thinking. So what? We all do that. True. Most of us casual golfers swear enough during 18 holes to make a truck driver blush. However from my minute experience with professional golf, it’s an entirely different animal. Maintaining emotions on course is a must for any player who wishes to maintain good play or rebound from some poor swings. A great example is Camillo Villegas. On the difficult par 4-6th hole at Glen Abbey, he snap hooked his drive into the trees. So far in fact he nearly went out of bounds into the driving range. Par seemed far out of the question at that point. Yet, I watched Camillo walk down the fairway with his playing partner Brooks Koepka. Both were smiling and laughing as they made their way to their balls. It’s possible I suppose Brooks is the funniest person on Tour, enough to bring a sullen Villegas to a smile, but I wouldn’t put money on it. Villegas remained calm and composed, even after he attempted a hero 5-wood cut shot from the rough under trees that unfortunately ended up in the water. The difference in attitudes was uncanny.

Now it’s very plausible Harmon was just having a bad day. Maybe he slept wrong. Maybe he couldn’t get a room at the Four Seasons. Maybe he didn’t have access to an omelette bar. I don’t know. But what I do know is from what I saw, Brian Harmon doesn’t bring the best attitude to the course and if you have a child with you, make like Beanie in Old School and have them put on their earmuffs.

As the day wore on, we decided to post up in the Skybox for the final nine holes of the tournament. What a great idea that was. The quality of shots hit into 18 were phenomenal. The gallery began to really grow on the side slope of the clubhouse and the atmosphere was buzzing as everyone’s eyes went back and forth between shots hit onto the green and the constantly updated leaderboard.

A great moment while sitting in the Skybox was watching D.A. Points walk off the final green and wave to the crowd. He thanked everyone for their support and for coming out to watch the tournament. That’s a guy right there who gets it. Great stuff.

Canadian David Hearn had been leading most of the final round. It seemed as though he would be able to hold on. There was a buzz around the course the entire day as fans spoke of the 54 year long drought Canada has had in producing a champion at this tournament. T’was not to be. Not only did Bubba Watson turn on the nitro and birdie five of his final six holes, but Australian Jason Day birdied the last three holes, including a phenomenal 22 footer on 18 to edge Watson by one and Hearn by two. It was a very exciting finish. Had Day only made par on 18, Hearn would have had a chance to tie with a birdie or win with an eagle. Either way it was fantastic, and Cam and I witnessed all of it only feet away in the beloved Skybox.

Day was a true class act accepting his trophy. He went as far as to say he felt like a Canadian this week due to how great the fans were to him all week. He also said it would be an honor to return the following year to defend his title. I’m sure the Canadian Golf Association hopes he stays true to that because he is a fantastic player, and a great champion.

The whole weekend is not something Cam or I plan on soon forgetting. What a life.

Written by Chris Heavenor, half of the notoriously underappreciated Coach Blogbay.

My Short But Sweet Time at the 115th US Open at Chambers Bay

There are a variety of people who find a smorgasbord of different activities intriguing; the list is almost endless. Some people treat their pets like mensa-bound children; some people enjoy scrapbooking so much they spend countless amounts of income and spare time into a single page of a 50 page photobook. Some of us are fortunate enough to enjoy a certain hobby enough that it encroaches on extreme.

For me, it’s golf. Golf is a serious interest of mine; some days it can even become overbearing. Golf is occasionally the first thing on my mind after waking up, or the last glimmer of consciousness before sleep. For me, golf is a passion beyond debate. So as you can imagine, attending the US Open this year was not just an elaborate plan devised to return home with 24 cheap beers, it was a memory that will last a lifetime.

On the afternoon of Tuesday, June 16, three good friends and I drove south and attended the 115th US Open at Chambers Bay, Washington. We were present on course Wednesday thru Friday. Clearly shorter than I would have liked, but with a wife in her third trimester of pregnancy, three days was about 2.99 days longer than I expected to get away with.

Considering hotel prices were juiced up like a self-conscious bodybuilder, the four of us decided to camp at Dash Point State Park. It was nothing fancy, even in camping terms, but the price tag at the end of two night’s stay during a busy week was well worth the dusty flip flops and chilly morning teeth brushing. From there it was a 20 minute drive to our muster point where shuttles were to bring all spectators arriving from the north to Chambers Bay Golf Course.

Now, a little on this process: It seemed like poor event planning to host an event of this magnitude at a venue with just one road coming in and out. I mean, when I heard this, I had visions of that Pemberton Music Festival debacle running thru my mind. I pictured throngs of passive-aggressive middle aged golf fans backed up along a single lane road for miles, muttering how their lawyers are only a phone call away. Alas, this was not the case.

On Wednesday, we breezed thru security at the Washington State Fair ground, where all spectators at this muster point must pass, and boarded what can only be described as the most understated shuttle in the history of shuttles. The USGA must have contracted out every Greyhound bus in the Greater Seattle Area, as the four of us waited approximately 10 minutes total over all three days to board buses – and that includes both directions. It was one of the most impressive feats logistically I have ever seen at any kind of event. Greyhound buses were lined up five or six in a row, herding spectators on and off as smoothly as a veteran Golf Town employee changes the grips on your old set of Ping Eye 2s.

As our “shuttle” reached its destination on Wednesday, I couldn’t help but stand up to catch my first glimpse of this behemoth course that would surely test the best of the best for the next four days.  The entrance gate for our shuttle was at the east side of the course and the initial view was breathtaking. I can’t even begin to describe the beauty of that giant sloping course combined with gorgeous sunny weather and the Puget Sound as a backdrop. Simply stunning.

As we unloaded and began walking towards the course grounds entrance, I became giddy. I couldn’t help but display a moronic smile from ear to ear. I was desperately trying not to run ahead from my three friends who were at the time practicing for a lesser-known Olympic event called ‘The Slowest Walk Possible’. I was confident they would place top three. I attempted to calm down.

‘You’re acting like a four year old making their way into Disneyland. Fuckin’ relax.’ I thought to myself.

As we walked up to the entrance, an older volunteer working the gate reached for my ticket. I happily presented it with a glowing sense of pride. He scanned it. It went beep. He slowly looked up at me, most likely noticing my exuberance for everything that was about to happen, and said ‘Welcome to Disneyland.’

I couldn’t believe it. Did that just happen? I tried to process this humorous coincidence, but once inside the gate, my attention was quickly torn away as we approached the spectator’s pavilion. About tent massive white tents with blue writing lined a concourse from merchandise, to restrooms, to cell phone charging stations. It was impressive to say the least; and these were just tents! Now where’s the damn range?

Welcome to Disneyland, kid.

We wandered casually, which was about as torturous to me as a medieval Brazen Bull. Finally locating the driving range, we found a spot directly in front of 2015 NCAA Individual champion Bryson DeChambeau and Rickie Fowler. We watched Bryson hit his driver, while Rickie worked thru his bag up to his 3 wood.

‘They’re not even swinging at the damn ball and look at it go!’ my one friend exclaimed, eyes glued to Fowler and his red pants.

It was an immediate lesson in tempo and mechanics. I threatened my brain that if these visuals were not immediately stored away long term, horrible things would be done to it. Days later on the first tee box of Swan-E-Set, it became clear my brain didn’t comply.

We began to wander the actual course after the range, scouting out prime viewing spots for the next two days. Unfortunately, as anyone who watched 30 seconds of US Open coverage would notice, Chambers Bay is not exactly a spectator’s dream in terms of on-course vantage points. There were hundreds of roped off areas on the course that would have been exemplary spots to watch stainless steel mash on some urethane, but alas, the gallery was not permitted anywhere near them. It honestly felt a little overboard.

A specific bummer was the driveable par 4 12th hole. The fairway was somewhat similar to a shallow half pipe, and the only spots to view were the tee box, which didn’t allow much, if any, view of the green, and a small grandstand off the green. Large hummocks lined the fairway which were roped off disabling anyone from seeing a shot fly past. At the end of the US Open, it was reported 90% of the field attempted to drive that green. I believe the USGA missed a big opportunity in allowing spectators to line up at least enough up the outside of the hummocks to witness players take a rip and go for the green. This was one of the very few disappointments of our trip. Now I understand the legal liability both Chambers Bay and the USGA leave themselves should they allow any and all people to climb steep, slippery, sandy hills to find a prospective perch to view; however, I’m curious if there would be any alternative method that would allow some of the gallery to these secluded points. Maybe an extensive liability waiver available at the entry gates that clearly and descriptively removes both Chambers Bay and USGA from any legal ramifications should someone become injured within a designated viewing zone. I can’t imagine this being out of the question. Yet, at the end of the day, my knowledge of American law begins and ends with the theme song to The People’s Court.

After being on the course for almost two hours, we found ourselves walking along the lower path nearest the water. As we approached the 17th tee box, I looked up to see longtime PGA Tour caddy Steve Williams standing arms crossed looking as serious as usual. The tee box was 20 feet or so above the path but I knew he was on Adam Scott’s bag that week. Dressed in all black munching on a Powerbar stood a favorite of mine, Mr. Scott himself. I supplied an overeager arm-stretched-high wave and was given a casual three-finger wave in return. It sounds juvenile, but it was a very neat moment being personally acknowledged by an athlete at a sporting event. It’s not something that occurs regularly in other sports. It only added to my moronic grin.

After grabbing some oxygen bottles, swapping our shoes out for Merrell hiking boots, we marched up the steep west side of Chambers Bay. Once we received our bags from the sherpas, we discovered a small grassy knoll at the back left of the 4th green. The 4th hole played approximately 475 uphill yards, with a left to right sloping fairway that led to a blown out bunker that travelled all the way up the right side of the fairway. The green was horizontal and narrow with a sloped ridge that ran its way horizontally at the back, funneling balls to a front pin if hit precisely. If not, balls would remain atop a back shelf making three-putting more than just probable. I chuckled at its monstrosity.

View from our grassy knoll on the 4th green.

Wednesday also supplied us one of the best shots witnessed live all week. D.A. Points’ drive ended up in the right side fairway bunker. It looked more like Long Beach from where we were sitting as it appeared to stretch right into Puget Sound. We estimated Points had between 210-220 yards in to a front middle pin placement (keep in mind the green was elevated more than 40 feet from where Points was located). His ball came out high. I lost track of it at its apex so my focus went straight to the pin. Sure enough, about 2.2 seconds later, plop! Points stiffed it to about three feet. My one friend scoffed as if it was an illusionary trick performed by some on-course magician. Well, it kinda was I guess.

Thursday was much more exciting believe it or not. It was real now; everything counted. You could tell by the scowl Bill Haas provided each autograph demanding guest after he supplied a few initial ones.* These guys meant business.

After taking a seat in the 18th grandstands, we watched several groups make their way up to the green, which was playing as a par 5 on Thursday. Witnessing all the different shot types attempted to access a back pin was highly entertaining from a golfer’s perspective. Some would hit low runners hoping to use the back slope, others would hit it high hoping to land it soft. Sergio Garcia hit an impressively precise low wedge that checked on the first bounce leaving him six feet for birdie. He was one of the only players we witnessed birdie 18 that day. It was a great shot.

Shortly after we made our way back to the fourth green. That spot provided some real insight on the tolls a course can take on players that isn’t exactly highlighted on television. Through Thursday and Friday, we saw countless bogies, numerous 3-putts and even a triple bogey (sorry Kooch).

Then it finally happened – the 2:28 tee time. Rickie Fowler, Louis Oosthuizen … and Tiger Woods.

I was 16 years old when I became a Tiger Woods fan. The adoration I felt for this young man went from about 0-60 in four seconds flat. His flare for the game, his heroics, his uncanny ability to charge on any given Sunday paired with his ferociously competitive attitude drew me in instantly.

My fandom for Elderick has faded none through the last 15 or so years. Now, however, it is more or less keeping my fingers crossed he makes the cut. But I haven’t stopped cheering.

I’ve taken my fair share of mockery and snide remarks for continuing my allegiance. It doesn’t bother me. I still believe Tiger has something left for golf. What exactly, I’m not sure. But I’m confident he will once again regain his stature atop the golf world.

Anyways, back to the story. I was running down the 7th fairway trying to reach the 1st tee in time. I had drastically underestimated the amount of time it was going to take me. I tried to keep my binoculars from bouncing up and knocking out my front tooth as I trotted to make it on time.

As I reached within eyesight of the 1st tee box, the gallery had grown to five people deep, all eagerly awaiting what I can only imagine Mr. Woods himself. Despite Rickie’s steady climb in popularity on Tour, there’s only one guy who can instantly amass a following like that – and we’re not talking about the Dhali Lama here.

I hesitated. I had a decision to make and time was of the essence. It was 2:27. I don’t think I could make it to the tee box and catch Tiger’s opening drive in time should he be the first of his group to tee off let alone see over the jumble of heads and shoulders. My five foot eight inches hasn’t been much of an asset in similar instances.

Reluctantly I decided to huff it down to the 1st green. As I approached the backside of the 1st hole, I’d noticed Tiger had been on the course for about seven minutes and the rules were already being thrown out the window. Nearly the entire 1st green was roped off, however crowds of people had already begun climbing under the ropes up onto the hill adjacent to the green. I didn’t wait a second to join in. It merely took one shot by Tiger Woods for order to fall apart. Until then, I hadn’t seen one, not one person, inside the ropes who did not have credentials. Just like that there were 75 people inside the ropes.

Tiger had split the fairway with an opening drive. “Position A” they like to call it for this long par four. Fowler had already struck a beautiful second long iron stinger that bounced twice before rolling 35 yards onto the green and leaving him about 25 feet for birdie. Now Tiger. I stood on the right side of the hill, which was to the right of the green, binoculars in hand watching every movement with extreme focus as if I had never seen the man on TV before. From my memory, he had a 5 iron in. Just before he addressed his ball, I climbed down 10 feet, just above a heightened greenside bunker. It was a brash maneuver as I was no longer part of the crowd. I had singled myself out and felt if anyone was to be ejected, surely it would be me.

Tiger’s shot came off the face hot, tracking with my binoculars I found the ball coming right at me. I lowered the binoculars and took two steps back hoping to avoid a Nike RZN Black in the face, although in retrospect, it may have provided me a brief but memorable conversation with the man. Turns out I would have had to take three leaps down the hill to the right to be struck by his ball. It missed the green right and laid to rest in some long fescue grass. I didn’t need the Sirius radio announcer in my ear to tell me it was an unforced error and a crappy position.

Shortly after, Pierce County Sheriffs flooded the area and gently ushered fans down the backside of the hill onto the lesser entertaining side of the blue rope.

Tiger walking to his ball after his approach on the par 4 1st.

The remorse shown by these Sheriffs throughout Thursday and Friday was appreciated. I could tell they weren’t keen on removing people from areas where the only infraction was a boundary deemed inadmissible by the USGA. I heard the words ‘I’m sorry’ mentioned more than once. The reluctance carried weight.

I didn’t attend the US Open in hopes of Tiger winning. I am a Tiger fan through and through, but I am also a realist. His opening round of 80 wasn’t necessarily a shock. Chambers Bay was playing tough as nails, and Tiger’s swing hasn’t come into full effect yet. I was a little disappointed however because 80 on day one basically puts you out of even competing, which I would have enjoyed just as much.

I followed Tiger to the second tee box where he proceeded to miss the fairway with a 4 iron. Again, the radio announcers in my ear advised me this was a bad miss.

‘You shouldn’t be missing fairways with an iron in your hand on the tee box.’

Ya ya ya. Fighting the massive crowds that had formed, I decided if I was to be cramped shoulder to shoulder, it might as well be next to my friends. I trekked back to the 4th green where they remained watching group after group grind out pars. Tiger ended up making five on the par 4 fourth. But again, it was just the pleasantry of seeing him swing live in person. I was still in heaven.

Tiger hitting his tee shot on the par 4 2nd.

I then followed him to the tee box for the downhill par 4 fifth. He had a 3 wood in his hands. I was surprised by how much more noticeable his dip at impact is in person. He really squats down on the ball. His follow thru ended with a patented club twirl and a quick snag of his tee so I knew he’d piped it. It was impossible to track his ball high in the blue sky but I knew it he liked it. That is where I left him on day one. I wished him the best and crossed my fingers for a string of birdies. I wasn’t holding my breath.

Arriving back to the fourth green, I realized what a chore it would be to follow Tiger for an entire 18. It was a constant battle of deking thru elbows, standing on tippy toes, ducking thru armpits just to get a quick visual of the man before someone in front of you shifted forcing the whole routine to be repeated. It’s was a lot of work for just those four holes.

We were only afforded two days of tournament play and I wanted to get the most of it. I decided to stay on the fourth green. Not many putts were made on four both Thursday and Friday. I remember Kevin Na hitting a glamorous shot into the ridge line, taking the slope at the back of the green and rolling back towards the pin and resting ten feet away. I bet my friend $2 (USD of course, so it was a solid $2.50 CDN wager) there’s no way he drops it. I was gouged for 2:1 odds but I was confident in the defense of Chambers Bay. Na’s putt didn’t even get a sniff. A trend had developed.

To his credit however, Patrick Reed made a very nice three there on Thursday, leaving a five footer for birdie after a perfectly placed shot from the fairway. It was a rare sight and something we didn’t witness too often course-wide for that matter.

Friday was much more structured by our group. After 20 hours of walking and watching on a golf course, you quickly become an experienced spectator. We had agreed to start the day in the 18th green grandstands. This became one of the coolest spots on the course. I was hesitant at first to remain seated in one place, lacking the immediate ability to jump to a nearby tee box or green, but with the accompaniment of binoculars, my Sirius radio earpiece and a program, it was a very enjoyable position. The wagering continued at a torrid pace.

Panoramic shot of 18th grandstand before the crowds showed up

Less than an hour after previous photo. 18th grandstand became the place to be!

When we first arrived to 18 on Friday morning, the grandstands were nearly empty. Less than an hour later, the clouds had parted and it began filling quickly. 18 was playing as a long par four, therefore shots into the green were far less accurate than the previous day’s. Many players had over 250 yards in for their second shot. It didn’t seem fair. But hey, if you’re going to earn $1.8 million, you’re going to have to flush a few 3 irons.

We watched Jordan Spieth hit the lip of the fairway bunker en route to a double bogey six. My one friend who had wagered some money on Spieth winning the tournament was less than impressed. Somehow I think Jordan was of equal mind.

Our Friday took us back to our spot on the fourth hole, but we stopped for only a moment before continuing East towards the seventh. Seven made four look like child’s play. The fairway had a similar layout to four, except the tees were across the blown out bunkers meaning an aggressive line across the sand required a 320 yard carry (uphill) for your tee shot just to hit the fairway. Dustin Johnson made it look far too easy. Freak.

Standing atop Chambers Bay looking down on the 7th green.

Walking atop Chambers Bay, the view couldn’t be beat. I stood looking down on the entire course with the Puget Sound shimmering in the background. Life was good.

A black chainlink fence separated the gallery from the steep, sloping hill that led down to the eight fairway. I was forced to climb halfway up the fence just to get a glimpse of the players hitting their second and third shots. Another unfortunate vantage spot. Had we been allowed to sit atop the hill, a mere 20 feet in front of the fence, it would have made it one of the best spots of the course.

It was a very nice coincidence that Jason Day, Jordan Spieth and Justin Rose were immediately followed by Rickie Fowler, Louis Oosthuizen and Tiger. It allowed me to follow Tiger alongside my friends who were quite entertained by the first grouping.

When we reached the par 3 ninth, it was playing 230 yards but dropped significantly in elevation. The ninth green was insane. A view from the bottom made it look like a dinner plate being held at a steep angle. We stood to the left of the tee box watching towering approaches plummet down towards the green. All of a sudden there was a shout.

“Day’s down!”

Jason Day had fallen and was being tended to by medical staff. There was a buzz around the gallery because no one was really sure what happened.

Jason Day collapses on 9th green Friday. (Photo by Harry How/Getty Images)

“Did he fall?” “Did he pass out from the heat?”

There were numerous other guesses which offered the assumption the Long Hammer IPA in their hand was not their first. I relayed information to those directly nearby thanks to my tourist-esque radio earpiece. It was satisfying nixing some of the more ridiculous diagnoses. Fortunately Jason gathered himself and finished the hole. The focus he displayed was quite impressive considering he looked like he’d taken one on the chin from Pacquiao.

9th green viewed from below

View from left side of 9th hole. To the right is the tee box, and out of view to the left is the green far below

Our Friday ended on the 10th green grandstands. It was not the biggest of grandstands. It almost felt tucked away as the green was long and narrow, sheltered by a large hummock on the west side. I couldn’t imagine hitting a 5 iron into that green and feeling confident I wasn’t going to break someone’s collarbone in the seats. There were some great shots by players such a McIlroy, Scott and Sergio Garcia. Each were easily within 20 feet but all missed their putts short.

We also got to witness Martin Kaymer make an absolute mess of the hole. Granted the green is as wide as a five dollar bill, Kaymer missed his approach right landing on the top of a hill in a sandy footpath. His only shot was to the back of the green which sloped hard away from the hole. He ended up rolling off the green onto a rocky cart path. It appears as though he was not permitted relief and failed to get his next chip to the peak of the back ridge resulting in it rolling all the way back to him resting almost in the same previous spot. The poor German took a triple bogey and effectively ended his chance at making the cut.

Keegan Bradley shortly after made an impressive five after putting his approach long right appearing as though he was headed towards the same fate as Kaymer. However Bradley decided to muscle a pitch shot over the slope and had it roll into a deep greenside bunker across the green. He then displayed great touch leaving his sand shot 10 inches away from the cup. Tap-in bogey in what seemed like anything but.

Then almost as if scripted, one of the last shots we saw at the 115th US Open, Chris Kirk hit an approach from 171 yards out, landing it on the front right portion of the green, the ball began tracking from right to left until sure enough, clink! The ball hit the pin and disappeared. The secluded, little grandstand erupted in cheers. An eagle. And wouldn’t ya know it, Kirk made the cut by one stroke on Friday. Nicely done, Chris.

Kirk celebrates with caddy after jarring approach shot for eagle. Photo courtesy of Getty Images.

After the cheers had died down and Kirk had moved on, we watched a few more groups play through. The afternoon was well upon us and we still had to drive back to Vancouver that evening. We walked past the grandstands on 17, a gorgeous par 3 along the water, and noticed many empty seats. The same groups we had watched on 10 had yet to pass through 17 so the timing was perfect. Alas, it was decided we better hit the road as to avoid driving too tired. I instantly regretted this. Had it been just me, I think I would have stayed. But my hat goes off to my buddy who drove the whole way home as the rest of us passed out and drooled all over ourselves late into the night.

Leaving Friday evening was difficult despite being so exhausted from all the hiking up and down Chambers Bay. I felt like a child who refuses to leave the playground even though they can hardly stand under their own strength. It was a somber atmosphere boarding our shuttle for the last time. This had been an experience of a lifetime and it was already over. I’m fortunate I was able to attend such an awesome event let alone do so with three good friends. It’s not something I plan on soon forgetting. My sincere kudos to the USGA and Chambers Bay for putting on one helluva event.

Written by Chris Heavenor, the right-handed golfing half of Coach Blogbay.

*Bill Haas was a class act on the putting green. He signed quite a few autographs and even allowed a young boy inside the ropes to personally sign his pin flag. Nonetheless it was easy to determine he was extremely focused and did not plan on signing anything more than he needed to. In my opinion, calling the young lad over was an ingenious stunt which showed he cared and also avoided being hounded for more signatures by returning to where the boy was standing.

Will Tiger rise again? My argument for yes, yes he will.

Woods is arguably the best golfer in the history of the game. He dominated golf like no one else has ever done. An athletic skillset like this does not diminish quickly despite the optics one is exposed to while learning a new swing. Tiger has thrice modified his swing under different coaches, each time rising back to the world number one ranking. What makes this time different? Injuries? Nope. Tiger won the US Open with a cracked fibula and tibia. It’s simply a matter of adjusting his masterful skills; as it was the last time, and the time before that.

Written by Chris Heavenor, half of Coach Blogbay

*This entry is a part of a limited edition Coach Blogbay post whereby both writers choose a topic, pick whether they are either for or against, write no more than 100 words on said subject, and have a winner decided by a third party.

Goals, goals, goals – what Motley Crue was really trying to sing about.

You know what’s awesome? Scoring a goal in hockey. There’s very little that compares, especially as the stakes rise. Even when playing a game of shiny against your younger brother’s chubby, motor-skilled deficient friend, notching a goal will always make you puff out your chest – at least for a second or two.

Now take this to the ultimate level – the National Freaking Hockey League. If you’re one of the lucky SOBs that have had the chance to suit up for the Show, I salute you. Further to that, if you’re one of said SOBs that have managed to scrape in a greasy rebound for an official regular season (or better yet playoff) goal, well then sir, I might even buy you a brewski.

Scoring. Is. Awesome.

Scoring not only makes a player feel like Don Corleone, but it also excites the viewership. It’s ultra rare, where a collective group agrees a 0-0 shootout win was an overall exciting game. Conversely, I’ve witnessed fans of losing teams comment ‘what a game!’ after a 6-5 barn burner. Scoring is awesome.

One of the major issues and revelations behind the NHL lockout in 2004 was the need to add speed and scoring back into the game. For too long teams were clutching, grabbing and all around locking up the neutral zone like a rocket 16 year old daughter in a small town swarming with horny junior hockey players. It became tedious to watch as a fan.

How did the NHL battle this epidemic? It adjusted the game to allow more speed, and thus more scoring. Awesome.

The 2005-2006 season saw a drastic increase in scoring. In fact, the NHL saw nearly a full goal more per game on average between the 2003-2004 season and 2005-2006 (5.136 v. 6.050). Whoa.

Guys were lighting the lamp like it was a god damn electricity-bill free Christmas. I mean, stars in the league were running show on goalies and it was good. It was realllll good. For instance, in 05-06 & 06-07, there were a total of 14 players (seven each year) who hit 100 points or more in a season. That’s pretty remarkable considering since 2007, the closest the NHL would see to this was four players in 2010.

Further to this, each of the last four seasons have only seen one 100 point player per year.*

And so this is where our glorious net-filling story takes a turn. As it appears, goals are becoming harder and harder to come by. Not awesome.

Thanks to quanthockey.com for the exact numbers, average goals per game have dropped significantly and consistently since the 2005-2006 season. See my crappy table below for a brief rundown on the numbers. Again, these are average goals scored per regular season game.

05/06 – 6.050

06/07 – 5.758

07/08 – 5.440

08/09 – 5.695

09/10 – 5.531

10/11 – 5.464

11/12 – 5.302

12/13 – 5.307

13/14 – 5.343

Now I won’t pretend that I’m a whiz at hockey analytics, but I do possess the ability to notice a glaring trend. Goals per game have fallen 0.707 since 2005. That’s quite a drop.

Consistent with these findings is the drastically reduced number of players with point per game totals at season’s end.  In 2005, 33 players, who amassed 55 points** or more, could call themselves above point per game players.

Again, these numbers fell off hard after 2005. Last season, there were only 13 players. In fact, at the end of the 11/12 season, there were only seven. Seven.

The number of players that achieved above point-per-game status went as follows:

05/06 – 33

06/07 – 32

07/08 – 22

08/09 – 18

09/10 – 19

10/11 – 12

11/12 – 7

12/13 – 16

13/14 – 13

Now one may argue scoring could simply be more spread out throughout a team’s lineup; moreover, lines have become more balanced in terms of point production. Maybe it’s the effect of less knuckle- dragging enforcers clogging up roster spots. However, the previously noted list heavily suggests otherwise – the red light is becoming cold.

This post may seem like an elaborate way of simply saying league scoring is down across the board, but what I’m really attempting to suggest is that it appears from this data that scoring tends to eventually regress back to a certain level.

Multiple factors may be root causes here for a drop in scoring, be it creative defensive systems, a continual emergence of advanced statistics, and lastly a head coach’s plain ol’ reluctance to be scored on.

But from a macro standpoint and ignoring a continued spike in scoring during the 70s and 80s, the NHL has remained relatively uniformed since the late 1940s.

To prove this, here are some more fancy numbers from the late 40s and early 50s:

47/48 – 5.800

48/49 – 5.433

49/50 – 5.467

50/51 – 5.424

51/52 – 5.186

This possibly (and here’s where I finally attempt to conclude something worthwhile) suggests that despite the NHL’s best efforts, for the most part scoring will find a way to regulate itself and regress back to this five point-something-ish level. Scoring, in other words, tends to roll like a small wave, alternating from high to low despite our efforts to restrict or enhance it. For me, it’s this moderate unexpectedness that only adds to the excitement of one of the best games on Earth.

Written by Chris Heavenor – V.P. and C.O.O of Coach Blogbay

*For the lockout year of 12/13, I simply devised a ratio of points in a 48 game schedule that would equate 100 points in an 82 game schedule; it works out to be 58 if anyone gives a crap.

**55 points is a somewhat arbitrary number that was decided upon based on the sole assumption that a mass majority of the league’s superstars (point per game players) will have played more than 55 games. From my brief findings, there were no recognizable names or point per game players under 55 points anyhow. So yeah.

No, No, dig up, stupid. Dig up! – a brief summary of Oiler futility under Daryl Katz

It’s no surprise the Edmonton Oilers are terrible. Like stanky stank terrible. But it is actually interesting to see how much more poorly the organization is doing under the ownership of Daryl Katz.

There’s little doubt Katz was on a mission to purchase the Oilers in 2007 after making repeated attempts through the year and into 2008, increasing his bid each time before finally landing the team for $200 million after a January offer.

If I was anyone of importance, that would be the first red flag. The man is a born and raised Edmontonian who grew up in a wealthy family only to become disgustingly rich himself. Combined with his native Edmonton status and his relentless pursuit of the team, the notion that Katz is not simply a man wishing to dabble in professional sports but that he is a fan. And a powerful one.

This leads me to my second point. Fans of any nature should not, in any circumstances, be responsible for the operation or management of a sports team. The emotional attachment involved can and will hinder a person’s ability to view and evaluate objectively.

Take for instance the 2012 NHL entry draft. The clear cut favorite to go first was a flashy Russian lad playing out of Sarnia, Nail Yakupov. However after drafting power forward Taylor Hall in 2010 and the slick set-up man-boy Ryan Nugent-Hopkins in 2011 (both 1st overall picks might I add), there were rumblings Edmonton planned on either trading down picks to get a much, much, much needed defenseman, or flat out just take a defenseman with the first overall pick (which they again possessed.)

Ryan Murray was said to be the leading candidate for what Edmonton so desperately needed. And yet, the reports out of Pittsburgh, where the draft was being held, is that Katz personally demanded the organization pick Yakupov. For whatever reason, I can’t comment. I assume it’s due to the hype built around his speed and great shot. But either way, Katz, rich for his business and pharmaceutical knowledge, imposed his will into an area he is relatively inexperienced.

All in all, Edmonton ended up selecting Yakupov and it’s been disastrous for both parties ever since.

In case you were wondering, Ryan Murray is currently enjoying one heck of a rookie season in Columbus boasting 3 goals, 17 assists for 20 points in 66 games played. Compare this with Yakupov’s 24 points in 63 games this season and the answer so far is pretty clear who would’ve fulfilled Edmonton’s need better.

Now I don’t want to solely harp on Katz. It’s clear Steve Tambellini made no progress in his five year term with Edmonton as GM. And it’s arguable Craig MacTavish is following in the same exact footsteps as Steve but adding an interesting Skype firing of then head coach Ralph Krueger. But in sports and in business, if there is such catastrophic organizational performance, it more than usually originates from the top.

Yet, as this simple breakdown illustrates, the Edmonton Oilers have long since been a pile of hockey playing crap. But it’s becoming difficult to ignore the trend that is developing under the Katz administration.

Take for instance the seven years prior to 2008 where Katz was not involved in the organization; the team qualified for the playoffs three times. During that seven year span the team averaged 8.71th place in the Western Conference. Furthermore, they averaged 88.57 points per season. Ya ya, not impressive, I know. But be patient.

Now, for the five and three-quarter years Katz has been actively involved in the Oilers franchise as owner, the team has never once made the playoffs. They have finished no higher than 11th place in the conference, while finishing both 15th and 14th twice and averaging 13.5th place in those first five years. They have averaged an astonishing 16.67 points lower per season than the non-Katz era (which is impressive since their previous totals were nothing close to being worthy of a letter home.) Finally, the Katz era has never earned any more than 85 points in a single season, which is less than all but one season (2006/2007, 71 points) in the previous non-Katz era.

To add emphasis to the epic shittiness of the Oilers in the Katz era, these last few years have been after adding 3(!) 1st overall draft picks to the lineup as well as the highly touted University of Wisconsin defenseman Justin Schultz. I mean, if you’re recording more wins with guys like Ethan Moreau and Fernando Pisani than the current batch of young guns, something’s wrong. Very wrong.

So it’s nothing earth shattering, but the Oilers have been free falling for several seasons despite continually adding high-end young talent. Even long-time The Province sports journalist Tony Gallagher was at a loss for words describing the predicament Edmonton finds themselves. And coming from Tony, that’s saying a lot.

Written by Chris Heavenor – the seemingly only half left of Coach Blogbay.

The Canucks aren’t terrible – they’re just not great anymore.

Now that the dust has somewhat settled after a one-sided 9(!)-1 thumping Wednesday night in Anaheim, it’s time to dissect and analyze what John Tortorella refused to post-game.

Paraphrasing a line from Liev Schreiber during HBO’s first season of 24/7, team are rarely as good and conversely as bad as they may appear during specific points in a season.

This resonates loudly as it applies directly to the Canucks. Vancouver is hardly a bottom feeder team that can’t compete on most nights with big clubs; they can still play a strong game, but unfortunately it is becoming more and more uncommon.

As we’ve seen through the first half of the season, the Canucks are far removed from the powerhouse squad displayed in previous years. Logging only one win in their last eight attempts, the Canucks are treating their fans to the unrelenting torture of acclimatizing to a lowered level of success.

It’s hard to accept. I get it.

While ignoring prominent back to back first round playoff exoduses, Vancouver has been on a steady decline since that dominating season in 2010-2011. Yes, they finished the following year with a second straight Presidents Trophy, but it was also accompanied by a lower win percentage (.658 vs .621) and lacked the overall throat-punch authority the previous season saw.* 2012-2013 exhibited an even lower winning percentage of .541 during a shortened season of 48 games.

Enter the 2013-2014 season and its less than favorable adjusted divisions.

Vancouver wasn’t provided any advantages when they were grouped up with big kid teams San Jose, Anaheim, and Los Angeles in their new Pacific Division. After feasting for so many years on weak Northwest divisional opponents, it seems Vancouver’s downward trend will continue.

As Vancouver fights the good fight and continues along on a dim path of mediocrity, their weaker lineup in combination with more regular match ups against tougher opponents, Canuck fans shoudn’t be surprised to find the team clinging to one of the last playoff spots.

In fact, at the 48 game mark the Canucks have 24 wins and 24 losses. 124 goals for and 124 goals against (courtesy of Jeff Paterson @patersonjeff). Drink it in, Vancouver.

Take all of this into account and what you’re left with is the stark realization of what many realists shared at the beginning of the season: Vancouver was to be a middle of the road club.

This simple fact however is not so easy to accept by the average fan. After being treated in the past to such raw dominance, adjusting one’s expectations will take time.

That’s not to say management is throwing in the towel. Quite the opposite. But understanding this transition period is quite common and largely inevitable in most professional sports markets may save some hairlines.

Sometimes it’s just how it is.

There won’t be a blow up. Gillis likely will not make any large splashes via blockbuster trades or prominent UFA signings. The course will be steady, but in a world of professional athletics, it’s not necessarily a negative to have a GM unwilling to eagerly light a fuse protruding from a large, wooden ACME crate sitting outside 800 Griffiths Way.

Written by Chris Heavenor, half of the self-proclaimed talented blog duo Coach Blogbay.

*While a slight decline in a winning percentage between 2010-2011 and 2011-2012 may not seem like a weighted argument, take for instance four major team statistics compared with each other:

In 2010-2011, Vancouver ranked first in goals per game (3.15), first in goals against (2.20), first in powerplay (24.3%), and tied for second in penalty kill (85.6%).

Conversely, in the 2011-2012 season, the Canucks ranked tied for fifth in goals per game (2.94), fourth in goals against (2.33), fourth in powerplay (19.8%) and finally sixth in penalty kill (86.0%).

NHL’s Pacific Division is like Rocky training in Russia with that bad-ass beard.

Tonight’s match-up against the no-good LA Kings isn’t just a late November divisional tilt, it’s a near must-win for the Canucks and it’s not even officially winter yet.

How you say? I mean, Canucks are currently 12-9-4. Respectable, maybe, but it’s nothing close to an opener you’d use on a young woman somewhere. Yet after closer inspection, an-above .500 record is nothing to be too proud of, especially in the West, and even more specifically in the Pacific Division.

The Vancouver Canucks currently sit four points back of eighth place Phoenix who also have two games in hand. Adding to this is the fact the only teams Vancouver are ahead of in their respective division is Calgary and Edmonton – again, nothing to brag about when you’re trying to pick up downtown.

The unfortunate part of it all is when compared to the East, the Canucks would sit tied for sixth in the conference with Montreal, one point back of a three-way tie for third. Bummer, yes, but if you get frustrated by this fact, you’re probably the same person who shouts at low overcasting clouds as you pull up to a clubhouse on a spring weekend.

The issue remains – the Canucks need to be better – but more importantly they need to be better within their own division. Simple to ask, sure, but it won’t be an easy task considering the current powerhouses that sit atop the Pacific Division. Take San Jose, Anaheim, and Los Angeles for instance. Combined these teams are 47-15-11. That’s pretty insane if you failed to notice.

Luckily the Canucks have been able to pad their stats a bit notching wins against sub-par teams and others in the East, but when examined against its own division, a comparison that directly correlates with a team’s chances at making the post-season, I don’t need a magic 8-ball to tell me ‘outlook not so good.’

After nine games against fellow Pacific Divisioners, the Canucks are 3-4-2 with a goals-for rating of -5. Less than impressive. But hold onto your lugnuts, it gets less flattering believe it or not. Excluding two wins against bottom-feeders Edmonton and Calgary, the Canucks are 1-4-2 with a goals-for rating of -8. This just screams brutes mcgutes.

Adding to this crap-tastic situation is the Canucks’ inability to score versus winning teams. Within nine games played against the Pacific Division, the Canucks scored 22 goals. That’s a 2.44 goals per game average. Not too shabby I guess. But again, removing the wins against the stinky Albertan teams, the Canucks drop to 13 goals in seven games for an average of 1.85. Put another way, Canucks have scored over 40% of their inter-division goals in two games against teams sitting in last and second-to-last place in the conference. You ain’t going to win many games, especially against the Californian killers, scoring on average less than two goals per game.

So, like I said at the beginning, a Canucks loss tonight won’t put them completely out of the playoff race, but if there are must-win November games, you have to think this is one of them. If not, the Canucks will continue to remain a mediocre team in a strong division. I call that 82 games of ‘meh.’

Written by Chris Heavenor, the vertically challenged half of Coach Blogbay.

NHL Don’t Have a Friend In Me

With all the jibba-jabba going on between the NHL and PA, it’s difficult to ascertain exactly when the NHL will resume this season – if at all. Throughout the last 50-plus days of a lockout, it can be argued players have suffered; it can be argued owners have suffered; but I don’t think anyone has really suffered more of an impact than the fans.

Firstly, let’s not forget the fans are the driving force behind wages, revenue, and all-around popularity of the NHL. Just take a peak at other sports in Canada. I’m sure there are some fine cricket players residing in the Great White North. I even know a kickass badminton player, like real good. But without the fans – not even the ever crazy Canadian hockey fan – the sport becomes a distant shadow of its former self. Fans drive the bus. But the powers at be either fail to realize this or blatantly ignore it. Either way, I can only hope it blows up in their face as it so deservedly should.

What may be doing the most destruction to the league is the fact NHL commish Gary Bettman, and to a further extent the players, seem to have forgotten that revenue numbers don’t matter much if the product fails to produce cash. The more the NHL nickle and dimes (in billionaire terms of course) the PA, the more they are spinning the chamber of that revolver just FedEx’d from Moscow. This fan has started to look elsewhere, and not just while the NHL is locked out.

Reflecting upon the lockout of ’04/’05, the overall sentiment from myself and those I spoke to was mass disappointment. It was such a shame the entire season was lost. I sighed and found a way to entertain myself during the winter months. However this time around is quite contrary. Disappointment has morphed into contempt.

I think a large portion of my anger besides the obvious robbery of the sport of I love is the clear piss-poor business decisions by the NHL. At no point would any business consultant of any other thriving business suggest this course of action. I’m not going to get deep into business theory, but if you owned a business that was consistently making more and more money over the last eight years, gaining popularity on a national level in one of the world’s most dominant markets being the USA, would you suggest shutting it down for a year and pissing off your biggest customer?

I’m personally passed the emotional standpoint whereas should the league agree to terms on a new CBA and immediately start the season all would be forgotten. That ship quickly sailed. Three (!) league lockouts since 1994 is unheard of, unacceptable, and down right embarrassing. I will gladly watch games on TV should there be a season this year, but by no means will I support the NHL financially for years to come. I hope fans will stand their ground as well. Should fans come running back to the league that treats them as a common byproduct of the sport, it only reinforces the sentiment that when the NHL feels they need a couple more bucks and want to screw the players, well, let’s lock ’em out. Or when the NHL owner start signing ridiculously long, lucrative contracts and don’t want to pay them, well, let’s lock ’em out. Or when the NHL…you get the point.

When the NHL does get their affairs in order, they can count on this fan supporting the game he loves via the NHL in a restricted manner, but they can also be damn sure I will not be buying any tickets, products, or merchandise for years to come. If followed, then and only then would the NHL hopefully realize lockouts are a worse case scenario and not something to fall back on if they’re suffering from the case of the Mondays.

Sincerely,

one seriously pissed off hockey fan.

Written by Chris Heavenor, half of the highly distinguished blogging duo of Coach Blogbay.

KINGS WON GAME 1! IT’S OVER! – signed every Kings’ fan. Why LA is in for a much different game Friday night.

Wednesday night’s loss to LA in game one of the Western Conference quarter-final was difficult to watch. The reasons are numerous. Primarily it was difficult to watch a team like the Canucks, who are usually very precise and tactical, lose their grip on the flow of the game and start a seemingly never ending parade to the penalty box.

As someone who has watched more Canucks game this season than not, I can confidently say this was an all around poor performace – so the ultimate loss after 60 minutes doesn’t create too much worry. It was nothing close to a standard game by Vancouver.

Not just the number of penalties taken by the Canucks, but also the specific type were frustrating to watch. Vancouver gave up an early 5 on 3 after Kesler snowjobbed Quick for a two minute unsportsmanlike; soon after Higgins cleared the puck over the glass causing the beloved two minutes for delay of game. It was a tough pill to swallow, but a penalty’s a penalty even if if’s not commonly called in the regular season.

I don’t see game 1 being much of a precursor for what is to be expected for the rest of this series. Game 1 appeared to be an anomaly of sorts. The Canucks strayed from an efficient system that allowed them to run the table in the regular season and finish atop the league. Watch for the ship to be righted.

Kesler also reverted back to his former yappy, diving ways. For a guy who single-handedly took over the second round series last season versus Nashville, this current act just won’t cut it. I can only assume GM Mike Gillis and/or Coach V have already spoken to him about it.

With seven total penalties to Vancouver including a five minute major by Byron Bitz, LA’s powerplay looked anything but dangerous going 1-for-7 on the night. Vigneault and co. have displayed a strong history of adapting on the fly which will allow the team to limit needless penalties by adjusting to the fashion in which officials will call this series.

Lastly is the amount of pure jubilation exhibited by Kings’ fans and their organization as a whole after only the first win of a seven game series. For an organization’s twitter account to come out and blatantly exclaim ‘To everyone outside of BC, you’re welcome” after their FIRST win is ludicrous.

Players can thank the inept fan/staff member who tweeted this if LA in fact doesn’t end up winning the series because this is the online version of ‘calling your shot.’  Can we expect city-wide banners draped over highway 101 if LA wins game 2?

Last night’s performance was a Kings’ team playing at their peak level while the Canucks’ played down two or three notches. Expect a different team to come out Friday night on both sides.

Canucks/Kings Playoff Preview and some other wicked awesome first round predictions.

If the 2011/2012 Vancouver Canucks regular season seemed twice as long after last year’s devastating final round loss, don’t be alarmed the feeling is widely shared.

After the Canucks ran away with the President’s Trophy last season, it seemed doubtful they would be able to reproduce such a feat for the second time in as many seasons. Some will even argue it wouldn’t matter any if they did it again because it failed to produce a Stanley Cup the first time.

I thought I fell into this school of thought until the Canucks closed out the Oilers in the final game of the regular season with a 3-0 shutout. To my surprise I found myself throwing out an exuberant Tiger fist pump across my living room floor.

The final day of the regular season also provided the Canucks with a slight curve ball pitting them against the Kings of Los Angeles in the first round of the playoffs as opposed to the previously assumed San Jose Sharks.

Who forms a better matchup for the boys in blue? Kings? Sharks? Many fans debate this still. For me, unless it’s a bye into the second round (or the Columbus Blue Jackets), it’s doesn’t really matter.

After a touch of dissection, the Kings are a confusing bunch. A few seasons ago they were supposedly on their way up to the heights of the Western Conference but have yet to make that physical and statistical leap.

Aggressive roster alterations were made by trading for Mike Richards and Jeff Carter. All the while Kings’ GM Dean Lombardi hoped this would bolster their lineup enough to compete in the West.

But unless you count squeaking into eight place and the final playoff spot the definition of a surging team, Lombardi’s manoeuvring may not have aided the Kings as much as once suspected.

At first glance Vancouver would easily be considered the favorite in this matchup. But there are some calling for an upset like Adam Proteau of The Hockey News who’s predicting the Kings take down Vancouver in seven games even with the possible addition of Daniel Sedin.

But it’s a one-seed versus an eight-seed, c’aman! Right?

Statistically speaking, Vancouver is a slight favorite leading LA in several categories. Most noteably Vancouver’s powerplay finished at 19.8% even after cooling off in the final months of the season. Conversely LA’s powerplay stumbled to a 17% final tally. The Canucks lead LA also in goals per game, shots per game and goal differential. In fact the only categories LA finishes ahead of Vancouver are goals against with 2.07 versus Vancouver’s 2.33; a 87% penalty kill versus Vancouver’s 86%; and shots allowed per game at 27.4 versus Vancouver’s 30.8.

It’s arguable these mean little to nothing once the playoffs start. But it’s also noteworthy the categories LA leads over Vancouver are by far less a margin than those Vancouver leads over LA. Take that for whatever it’s worth.

But the most telling stat is the easiest to read. Wins. They favor the Canucks 51 to 40. Yep.

Possibly one of the most important aces Vancouver holds up their sleeve is not so quantifiable – experience.

The boys in blue are coming off a heartbreaking loss in the final round last year, yes, but ask anyone – that kind of experience is worth its weight in gold. Look at Pittsburgh and you have to go no further than a couple years back to see how they rebounded from losing to Detroit in the finals only to come back the very next year and take home the bacon.

Even some down in Cali agree. Helen Elliott of the LA Times agrees it’s experience like this, especially from unlikely sources, that provide the Canucks with the upper hand in this matchup.

Players like Sammy Pahlsson, who she credits being a driving force behind Anaheim’s Stanley Cup victory in 2007, are not the flashiest but very effective in their role. She even went as far as suggesting his name for the Conn Smythe that very post-season.

Up front, the Canucks are far more offensively talented. They scored 51 more goals than they gave up this season in comparison to LA’s 15 and have enough individual hardware from the last few seasons to fill that rickety tree fort across the street. However one distinct question mark is the overall health of Daniel Sedin and conversely Jeff Carter.

If both players return healthy in game one, advantage Canucks. However if Daniel is unable to get ‘er goin’ and Carter in turn makes a comeback, this series takes a different feel altogether. I still think the Canucks come out on top, but it will be much more of a greasy group effort. If the situation reverses itself, well then this series could be fast. Like clean-the-floor fast.

As for goaltending, the matchup is open to debate. On one hand you have a great young kid in Jonathan Quick for LA who has proven his worth this year, but on the other there’s the dynamic duo of Luongo/Schneider.

Quick has had a great season statistically posting a save percentage of .929, a goal against average of 1.95 and notching 35 marks on the bedpost. Between Luongo and Schenider, only Schneid’s .937 save percentage is better than Quick in any of the mentioned categories. Don’t get me wrong though, Lou’s not that far down the list.

Despite mutterings of Schneider starting, Lou will be the go-to guy until he gives any reason not to. And with past playoff pushes backstopped by Louie, playoff familiarity begins to play a bigger role. Even if Lou falters, Schneider can swing in, red cape and all, and save the day. Such a luxury doesn’t exist for the Kings. Advantage Canucks.

Vancouver wins this series and moves on to the second round beating the Los Angeles Kings in six games.

There you have it folks! My unprofessional, unpaid, and quite unsolicited opinion.

For the rest of my first round predictions, click the link below.

Just kidding. We’re ghetto here at Coach Blogbay and don’t have links…or anything of value really.

WESTERN CONFERENCE:

STL def SJS 7 games

CHI def PHX 6 games

NSH def DET 7 games

EASTERN CONFERENCE:

NYR def OTT 6 games

BOS def WSH 5 games

NJD def FLA 7 games

PIT def PHI 6 games

Written by Chris Heavenor, the lesser educated half of Coach Blogbay.