My Blog, my way, my photography. Enjoy!

Posts Tagged ‘NHL

Game 7. Who will show?

leave a comment »

Would the real Vancouver Canucks, please stand up?

Maybe you missed the plane to Boston and had stand-ins act on your behalf.

Maybe your lucky socks were mistakenly washed.

Maybe you put your hockey pants on, left leg, instead of right leg first.

I’m reaching.  I know.  No matter how hard I try, I cannot explain the complete and absolute failure Vancouver has experienced in Boston this series.

Those aren’t my our Canucks.

Those aren’t the President Trophy winning Canucks.

I’m not sure who they were, but I didn’t like it.

No one around here did.

More than one ankle was twisted from people jumping off the bandwagon.

But not me.

Not this fan.

We aren’t yesterdays news.  We may be tattered, bruised and torn.

We won’t quit.

One more win.

This shot, taken after the 3rd goal against Luongo, sums it up perfectly.

June 15th, 2011, Game 7

One game to decide it all.

I will be there.  Which Canucks will be?

Ps:   Mason, we all wish you a speedy recovery.  You will be missed, but thought of tomorrow by all.

This is Our Time.

leave a comment »

Bring it home.  Prove the doubters wrong.

Yes, Kesler is hurt.  I’d be willing to bet Henrik isn’t 100% either.  It doesn’t matter.  This is the Finals.  This is what they grew up for.

In these games, following tough losses, teams look to their leaders to guide them.

Like they said, the puck stops here.

Fuhr, Roy, Brodeur.  Big money goalies that made the saves when they counted.

This is Luo’s time.  This is the Canucks time.

This is our time.

I want this seat.

leave a comment »

One day.  I’ll figure out how to make it mine.

The ice even smells different from here.

Written by Clint

June 7, 2011 at 6:08 pm

Game 1 Highlights. Game 2, Bring it on!

leave a comment »

I originally called this blog ‘mostly hockey’ – as I dicuss hockey, and other things that interest me.  Then I decided…well, Photography is just as much a part of me as hockey is.  My old friends may remember I ran a my own personal blog at  This was before wordpress, before the term ‘blogging’ I believe.  It was somewhere I posted my thoughts and feelings about life, love and my view of the pursuit of happiness.

Fear not, I won’t get to that degree of personal communication here.  not usually anyway.  Maybe.

Right now, this is the perfect vehicle to post images I take, talk about subjects I’m passionate about – and give those who read, glimpses into my mind.  Scary, deep stuff.

A few more shots from Game 1 before I turn my attention to the game today!

The Man Behind the Mask

A Task at Hand

Looking out over the battlefield

The Conn Man

The Birth of my NHL – Part II.

leave a comment »

I’ve had this thread written in my mind since “The Birth of my NHL. – Part I.   In fact, I wrote this before Part I, but felt you needed to understand how Hockey and I met.

Roger NeilsonWatching hockey highlights, an alien question popped into my mind.

Could this be?…Really?…Could my team really win it all this year?  Could they go all the way?

I have loved hockey since I could decide what to put on the TV.  If it was between Dukes of Hazzard or the Leafs, the Leafs would always win.  (That’s about where the win streak ended.)

My hometown team has never really given me the possibility of winning a cup.  Yes, I cheered for the Oilers, but I was seven or Eight.  If there was a team on the Moon, I would have cheered their Alien asses off instead.

I transplanted to Vancouver in 2001.  It’s been 10 years.  10 years to try and recover from being a Leafs fan.  The Canucks weren’t making it any easier on me.  One of the first games I watched, Cloutier let a shot in from the Red Line.  I already didn’t have good feelings about the kid, but he melted down after that and never rebounded.  I grew up watching Fuhr.  I knew what a money goalie looked like.  Cloutier was not money.

Then there was Bertuzzi.  I’m sure he has a great heart.  I’m positive he didn’t mean to hurt Moore that night.  I get the message he is sending on behalf of Naslund.  Hello.  Gretzky / Semenko anyone.  Yes, Bert had more talent prior to ‘The Incident’, but he was never the same.  I didn’t get to see The West Coast Express in its glory.  I watched shadows of the three of them skate through the Garage.

I once joked, “I’ll become a Canucks fan the day they trade Bertuzzi for Luongo”.

Not Eight weeks after making that statement, It happened.

The Canucks robbed Florida of Roberto Luongo AND offloaded our problem child to the far South.

It was Brilliant.  Some say the Worst trade in hockey history.

My alliance turned immediately.  I was now a Canucks fan.  It was time to hitch my cart to a new horse.  I was tired of following donkeys.

I won’t lie.  It wasn’t easy.  I didn’t appreciate the Twins yet.  The scoring wasn’t balanced.   There was something here, but it took me a while to grasp it all.

Bit by bit I’ve watched this team gel.

I delayed posted these thoughts because I didn’t want to jinx anything.  I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to be crushed again.   The Leafs handled that enough times.

But this is it.  This is where it all matters.  We are there!

Last night, I attended my first Stanley cup final game, ever.  Watching my favorite team play Game 1 for Lord Stanleys Cup.

Suck it Leafs.

Security allowed me to bring my camera in with a 50mm lens.  Not ideal, but I’ll take it.  I did my best to capture the game the way I wanted.  With 60 glorious minutes of hockey ahead and 18,860 out-of-their mind fans surrounding me, this was going to be an occasion to remember!

And it was.

My voice is hoarse today.  I’m exhausted.  That was intense.  Crazy.  Fun.

This is Bucket List stuff!

As I watched the game, I had one thought.

Capture the Canucks winning goal.

And I did.

The Birth of my NHL. – Part one

leave a comment »

 Early one Saturday night, I sat down in my jammies to watch some TV. 

 I flicked the dial through the channels and stopped at the clearest picture. I didn’t know it at the time, but a  hockey game was on.

 I sat on the floor with my blanket to check it out.

 I was hooked.


 The world ceased to exist.

The moment was between me, the guys in White, and the other guys in blue and Orange.

I didn’t quite know what it was; but it was awesome.

The speed, agility, power, finesse. It all looked so easy, yet powerful and aggressive. 

I liked the orange guys.  I picked them as my favorite…whatever this was. They were fun. 

The year was 1983.  The teams, as I later found out, were the Toronto Maple Leafs, and the Edmonton Oilers.  My first experience with the NHL.

Unfortunate for me, I didn’t get to see as much of the Orange guys.  Just the guys in white.

For one, the Orange guys played past my bedtime, and I was too young to effectively bribe or coerce my mom into staying up late.  I am sure I was not ‘a handful when not getting enough sleep’, and two, I lived in Leaf territory. The majority of everything involved the Leafs.  That’s all I heard about. 

90% of the games on TV involved the Leafs…which I enjoyed, as much as I could…being an Oiler fan…and the Leafs, being … well, the Leafs. The Leafs never did make a compelling argument to switch.  Thank you Sather, for saving me 20 years of agony.  (Ranger fans, sorry for taking most of his good years.)  I digress. 

When the Leafs weren’t on, I would suffer through Canadien games, just to cheer for the other guys.  I don’t know why I hated the Habs.  Maybe because the rest of the Leaf fans did and it didn’t matter?  

The plan usually worked.  Until Montreal played Calgary.  The arch-enemy of my beloved Edmonton Oilers.

Then I was screwed.   

(Side note, 1986 sucked.  Just sayin.)

I. Was an Oiler Fan.  Thank you…

Growing up, I had all the Edmonton Oiler paraphernalia to proudly back it up. 

Shirts, socks, sweaters, jackets, hats, hockey cards, stickers.  You name it. I had it.

Or wanted it.  It was all I wanted.

For my 13th birthday, I received one of the best gifts ever.  A brand new, #31 “Fuhr” jersey.  I specifically asked “Away”, so it wouldn’t show enough dirt to need to take it off.  Ever.  I wore that thing everywhere.  In ball hockey, I played goal.  I made grant proud a few times. 

Hamilton is a hot place in the summer, especially while wearing a jersey.  I didn’t care.  I delivered my paper route in it.  Bite me leaf fans.  I bled Oil.   

I held on to that cherished jersey for over 23 years.  Countless moves. Countless attempts to wear it out one last time.  Eventually, it moved to the back of my closet.  I could never bring myself to trash it.  That jersey symbolized the birth of my love for the NHL. 

I eventually passed it onto my youngest son Ethan, perhaps with the slightest of hopes it would ignite the same passion for hockey within him.

but I’m not telling.

. … to be continued…