I have learned that crappy fans are good for something after all! After hearing (and delighting in) the panic preceding the Capitals – Habs Game 7 all over the radio Wednesday morning, then watching Washington go down early and fail to respond for the third game in a row, I knew that the only thing better would be the collective sorrowful wail that would echo off the marble pillars of the District for the rest of the week. And oh did it ever satisfy. Thursday morning on the way to work I listened to every radio host and caller in town fire Boudreau and Green and Semin and everyone else, though not so much Alexander Ovechkin, which surprised me. Oh but how they lamented, waffling between dejected fatalism and impassioned outrage. And it was the same on the way home later that afternoon, as it will be for days to come. None of these new age fair-weather fans know enough about hockey to really understand what, if anything, needs to be done or why this tragic fate has befallen them (it should be noted that I don’t know enough about hockey to have an educated opinion either, but I am not offering one on that subject (yet)). They simply sob and lament and lash out like children, spilling their guts all over the airwaves and providing me no end of amusement. Now, as I mentioned in a previous column, I was terribly torn by this situation, finding myself rooting for the dreaded Canadiens, but it was worth it to watch this meltdown of the DC Metro area. It reminded me of sitting in the visitor’s section while watching my high school wrestling team manhandle another pudly district opponent. All you hear are melodramatic complaints (that kid is thirty and on steroids!) and sour grapes (they recruit shamelessly anyway). Is it wrong that I take so much pleasure in this? Probably, but in the midst of my giggles I did hear one comment that gave me an idea.
Among the apocalyptic predictions and suicide threats I heard one guy call into the Sports Junkies and advocate patience. The example he used was the Indianapolis Colts, who did not win as soon as Manning showed up. In fact, it took a lot of heartbreaking playoff losses before they got their super bowl ring, but they did get it. I thought it was a decent point, but the analogy could be drawn out much further, especially regarding Manning and Ovechkin (the obvious parallel). Not only are the Caps the pre-2006 Colts and Alex their Peyton, but he (Alexander the Great) even has the Tom Brady-esque foil on the Pittsburgh Penguins to round it all out. Lemme splain.
First let’s look at Ovechkin and, say, 2004 Manning. Both are the flashiest offensive players in their respective sports, finding themselves routinely at the top of every individual single-season leader board. Ovi can be matched in scoring but sets himself apart with his physical style. Both play on teams that will bury you in scoring but have defenses that can be exposed under the right circumstances, both struggle in crunch time, and both have an arch nemesis who, while not quite as individually dominant, has quickly accrued multiple championships and jumped way ahead in the head-to-head debate because of it. Manning had Brady; effective, efficient, and cool under fire, who by early 2005 had three rings and a perfect 6-0 record against the professional commercial actor (including two dramatic postseason drubbings) with which to drown any claim of Manning’s superiority. Alex Ovechkin has Sidney Crosby, an even more natural rival. They came up at the same time, they hail from the two great hockey nations on earth, they play distinctly different styles for distinctly different teams in distinctly different cities. You couldn’t draw it up any better. But once again, one, in the early years of the rivalry, one has jumped out in front to dominate the question. Sid the Kid has played for two Cups, won one (getting insta-revenge on Detroit in the process) and sweetened the pot by winning a gold medal on home ice in Vancouver, WITH THE WINNING GOAL. On the way to both of his championships Crosby trampled Ovechkin, first on the Caps in the Eastern Finals then as a member of a disinterested Team Russia at the Olympics. Ovi is left without a leg to stand on. It is even worse in his case because at least Manning, even in ’04, could fall back on his superior stats. Ovi scored less goals then Sid this year. They tied for points, but one of them is a winner.
People liked to watch Manning a little more than Brady’s Patriots back then, because the Indy offense would put on a show while the Pats seemed to always do just enough to win (remember, we are talking about this relationship circa 2004; a past I happily and willingly live in). This doesn’t translate literally to the hockey, but Ovi is more fun to watch than Crosby. He throws hits, he plays with a mean streak, and people generally think that he would kick Sid’s ass in a fight. The other comparison all the Red Rockers here in DC would like to draw is that Crosby, like Brady, had a wicked D backing him up and truly authoring those big wins. Unfortunately for them (and for my case, to a point) this is where things go a bit awry, because the Caps actually played better D over the course of the recently concluded regular season. Sure, they scored more goals than most lacrosse teams, but they seemed to have enough defense to win big all season. And they didn’t fail defensively against Montreal. The Habs won two of the last three games with only 2 goals. Two goals should have been a slow PERIOD for that Caps team.
The failure came mainly on the offensive end, especially on the power play, which was truly abysmal for Washington (1 for 33 in the series). And whose fault was that? The supposed best player (and richest man) on ice needs to take that squarely on his shoulders, just like when we saddled Manning with the blame during those glorious days of pick after heartbreaking playoff pick. Now Ovi is out again and the Penguins at the number 4 are after one round inexplicably the highest seed left in the East, with a very manageable road to yet another Stanley Cup Finals. The only question remaining is whether Ovechkin will ever have the strength of character to put a team on his back and carry them over this daunting Game 7 hump that continues to haunt Caps fans in this new era of perceived entitlement. Or is it?
Manning, the consummate professional, finally conquered his demons and led his team to a championship, right? Sure, he stopped throwing playoff games away for the most part, but we all know that it was actually Bob Sanders who conquered all those demons and dragged the Colts to a Super Bowl win. Just as sure, the Caps could use a Bob Sanders. Their D which, while better than Pittsburgh, was middle of the pack this year (and not as good as Montreal’s) is not that of a Stanley Cup contender. They, like the Colts of yesteryear (and the 2007 Pats (SHUT UP!)), could mask that weakness with an avalanche of points in the regular season, but in the playoffs there is nowhere to hide your flaws. The Colts were so talented on offense back then they could have easily scored enough points to win games with a lesser quarterback. The changes they needed to, and eventually did make were on defense. Similarly, the Caps would have scored the most goals in the East this year (and second in the NHL) without Alexander’s contributions. He is not the problem. They need their Bob, a smash-mouth blue-line defenseman who will offset the overly offensive Mike Green and give them some intimidation and stability in their own end (to that end I'll trade them Chara for Ovi heads-up right now).
The parallels are many, but what should concern Caps fans is what is still left to be determined. Can Alexander the Great overcome what appears to be a complete lack of the clutch chromosome to get his team to the promised land? All the other factors aside, Manning did nut up and win one, and he has looked much more stable in January and beyond ever since (save that one time he went up against the biggest sentimental favorite since the 1980 USA Hockey Team). There was a time, though, when Manning had the Can’t Win The Big One moniker, and many believed he would never find a way past Brady and the Pats when it mattered. Eventually, though, he did do it. There is no joy inside the Beltway, but perhaps the fact that Peyton managed to outgrow his playoff funk and gather a more complete team around him can offer some small glimmer of hope for the future to the DC faithless. That is if they don’t burn down the Verizon Center first.
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