Sports writer - Grant writer

Category: hockey (Page 26 of 26)

Better Know a Compliance Rule #1:Don’t Mind the Size You’re Wearing, Mind the Size of Your Label

First, my disclaimer – I am not a compliance official of any sort.  I have a weird fascination with NCAA compliance.  The material below is just my interpretation of the rules in a easily digestible form for fans.  It should not be used by student-athletes or athletics officials for any formal use.

Anyone who works with me knows that I am a NCAA Compliance geek. I don’t know exactly how my interest in these daunting regulations began, but I suspect it might have began with being exposed to housing regulations as they related to the new residence hall where I worked and lived my senior year.

Our building – brand new – appealed to basketball players because it served as break housing and had the highest ceilings on campus (always important when you are well over 6 feet tall.) However, NCAA Division I regulations restrict the number of student-athletes that can live in a single residence in rule 16.5 Housing and Rules:

“During the academic year, the institution may not house student-athletes in athletic dormitories or athletics blocks within institutional or privately owned dormitories or apartment buildings (when the institution arranges for the housing) on those day when institutional dormitories are open to the general student body.”

Athletic blocks and athletic dormitories are defined as units of residence (be they residences or floors) where at least fifty percent of the residents are student-athletes. Therefore, it could be very difficult to allow your student-athletes to participate in any lottery-based housing system – random assignments of selection numbers based on class year and/or credits earned – without having to go back into the system after housing selection and reassign some of your athletes just to be safe from a violation. Long story short – the entire men’s basketball team could not reside in my residence hall, despite the fact that it had some of the only showers on campus they could fit in without having to duck their head (no lie.)

Because of my compliance geekdom, I present to you a new reoccurring feature on my blog (aka, another excuse for me try to post more often): “Better Know a Compliance Rule.” (I hope I don’t get sued by Stephen Corbert.) Today’s Random Compliance Rule of the Day was discovered when I was looking for NCAA Compliance rules involving non-recruited walk-ons. Last week, all of Boston University was wrapped up in the aftermath of the suspension of four men’s hockey players for a undisclosed incident. The suspension, combined with two key injuries, left the team with the minimum of players to dress for their weekend games. It just happens that our unrecognized club ice hockey team just won the Club Hockey Beanpot, meaning we have a whole vat of not-too-shabby hockey players hanging out in our backyard. This led to various co-workers of mine asking, “Well, if we’re short handed and need players to dress, why doesn’t Jack Parker (coach of the Terriers) grab some of them?”

Now, mind you, my office is not Athletics and has no say in who Parker dresses for a game or accepts as a walk-on. But it got me intrigued as to the NCAA regulations involving unrecruited walk-ons, so I broke out the office copy of the 2007 NCAA Division I Manual (which I ordered, of course, after selfishly convincing my office that it would be a great use of $15.00) to quickly quench my curiosity. While I was looking, I found the following rule:

12. 5.4.1 Laundry Labels – If an institution’s uniform or any item of apparel worn by a student-athlete in competition contains washing instructions on the outside of the apparel on a patch that also includes the manufacturer’s or distributor’s logo or trademark, the entire patch must be contained within a four-sided geometrical figure (rectangle, square, parallelogram) that does not to exceed 2 1/4 square inches.

This rule refers to a patch often found on NFL replica jerseys – a rectangular patch on the outside of the jersey near the bottom hem that states the manufacturer and the size of the garment. I always found those labels tacky and unneeded for two reasons – one, maybe I’m being totally girly with this, but the whole world does not need to know what size I’m wearing, and two, it is completely just another way to get a company’s logo on the jersey. I understand the NCAA’s concern regarding the use of a corporate logo – they regulate the heck out of them – but what got me about this rule was the statement of the four-sided geometrical figure, and the examples that follow. Really, we had to explain what a four-sided geometrical figure is? And really, a parallelogram? That’s a phrase that is usually left to standardized test writers. I would love to see a laundry label that is in an awkwardly slanted four-sided shape with sides parallel to each other. Where’s the love for the triangles, octagons, and pentagons? Why does there need to be a qualifier on the number of sides? As long as the shape is of a certain area, I think you could allow for it to be any shape. My last beef with this rule is that most Division I teams are serviced by equipment managers who are charged with laundering jerseys – do they really need instructions? I imagine they know what they’re doing, for it is their job to wash these uniforms time and time again – doesn’t that make the purpose of the laundry label on a Division I athlete’s jersey unnecessary? Therefore, should these labels just be outlawed entirely by the NCAA?

As I explained to my father recently, NCAA regulations are very much like the law – highly detailed but open to interpretation. Most of the regulations boil down to determining when differential treatment occurs between a student-athlete and a non-student-athlete attending the same institution. However, like real lawyers, you can argue your way out of or into anything – in a extremely basic example that would rarely if ever occur, if a student-athlete receives several articles of clothing beyond the regulations on apparel, a compliance officer could argue that a non-student athlete in the span of an academic year had a similar opportunity to obtain an equal or greater amount of complimentary apparel, as long as they had the data to prove it. In an example from my everyday life, administrators are allowed to host student-athletes to a dinner as long as he or she offers the same opportunity to non-student athletes (in fact, in our practice, non-student athletes get the opportunity to do this than student athletes.) There are then additional issues involved with having student-athletes over to dinner (for example, there are stipulations on the meal taking place in an administrator’s house and not a restaurant) – but because non student-athletes get the opportunity for such a meal to a same, if not greater, amount, we have covered the most basic and overarching compliance rule. When we get into issues of amateurism in NCAA regulations, my initial generalization is non-applicable, if not completely turned on its head. A non-student athlete could be an artistic performer, could go out and obtain representation, sign a contract to perform and receive compensation, and still be eligible to perform in the college’s theatre troupe or choir. If a student-athlete does the same, they are rendered ineligible to compete. The greater societal good of amateurism regulations is a topic for another day, but consideration of amateurism on a logical basis absent of American society’s emphasis on sports over artistic talent, those regulations seem to be of an opposite logic of other NCAA rules.

I could be completely off on my study of the overarching themes of NCAA regulations – in all reality, I’m an event planner and educator, not a director of compliance – and if I am, please let me know. I always do run through any work-related compliance questions with my school’s Athletics department because I recognize that I don’t know everything about compliance. But I find the subject of compliance fascinating – but I promise that next time I share an amusing compliance rule, I won’t get all professor-y on you all.

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In other news, I am still trying to finish the re-cap of my brief foray into sports management – working the Boston University – Cornell University men’s hockey game at Madison Square Garden. I hope to finish it by the end of the week, so be on the lookout for it!

And, I heart Trent Edwards. That is all. (Sorry, J.P.)

Obviously, Massachusetts Schools Neglect to Teach Geography of Areas outside of New England (or No, Western New Yorkers are not Yankees Fans.)

MEMORANDUM

TO: The Collective Population of New England (especially the Citizens of Massachusetts)

FROM: A Disgruntled Western New Yorker Turned Bostonian

RE: Geography of New York State and the Sports Fandom it Dictates

DATE: November 2, 2007

 

I feel it prudent at this time to provide you with a refresher geography lesson of New York State (or for those of you who did not pay attention in social studies, a first lesson.) This lesson was spurred on by the absolutely drunk (and I believe underage) Bruins fan and native New Englander who sat in front of me during Thursday evening’s Bruins-Sabres game. This fan proceeded to taunt all the Sabres fans (of which there were many, including myself) by telling us that the “Yankees suck,” and that A-Rod does several unrepeatable acts of a sexual nature. He then decided to mention that “Look, who won the World Series this year – the Red Sox, not your stupid (insert-bad-word-here) Yankees.” Continue reading

I Liked, Therefore I Was (A Short Discussion on Sports Fan Philosophy)

Preteen me started out as a biased, novice, ignorant sports fan. When I became a fan of a team, an event, or an athlete, I became a supposed fan of that sport. In other words, I liked, therefore I was. I was a fan of the in-school pep rallies we got to have every late January because the Bills went to the Super Bowl, thus I was a fan of football. I became a fan of Steve Young’s striking good looks, thus I was even more a fan of football. I was a fan of my dad dragging me to Rochester Amerks games when he was able to score free tickets, thus I was a fan of hockey. I wanted to be Kristi Yamaguchi, therefore I liked figure skating. I liked the hoards of hot guys in indoor track, thus I joined the track team.

Here’s the converse of becoming a fan in that fashion–you absolutely despise other events, teams and athletes, but you can not tangibly explain why. I hated the Dallas Cowboys, because they were the arch enemy of both Steve Young and the Bills. Never mind that the early-mid 90s Cowboys were amazing on both sides of the ball, were crazy dominant, and probably were not the dirty cheaters my father pinned them to be. I hated them with every ounce of hate a twelve year old could muster. They caused the Monday after the Super Bowl to be the saddest day at school–every time you spotted a stray streamer in the #52 School gym from Friday’s “Go Bills” pep rally, you got choked up. I liked the Amerks, but I couldn’t tell you why I was booing the Hershey Bears–I couldn’t tell you if they were actually any good, what college teams the players came from, if they had a good defense. As for indoor track – I liked the hot guys, but my running form was awful and I couldn‘t tell you what half the events were–plus, when my coach tried to get me to practice hurdles, I often tripped over them not for lack of vertical leap (hey, I had been a gymnast, thus I had vertical leap to spare,) but because I was staring at the guys on my team. It’s not just me–think of a Boston University or Boston College student whose first introduction to hockey is in college. They hate the other school’s team, although most of them, at first or ever, can tell anyone else exactly why they should hate them. Continue reading

Random Beanpot Observations, Or View From The Top–of the TD Banknorth Garden

Ah, the Beanpot. The only hockey game all year that the TD Banknorth Garden sells out.

For the second year in a row, I had the opportunity (aka, Chris and I had enough “Terrier loyalty points”) to attend the Beanpot. For my Upstate New Yorkers, the Beanpot is a four university hockey tournament that has been going on for 55 years. It features Boston University, Boston College, Northeastern, and Harvard. The tournament takes place the first two Mondays of February, with two games each night. There is a women’s hockey Beanpot, a baseball beanpot, and even a Rice and Beanpot, but the most well attended and well known is the men’s hockey Beanpot, played at the Fleet-Banknorth-Boston-Garden-Center.

The last thing that y’all Upstate New Yorkers need to know about the Beanpot is that Boston University has won more times than the other three teams combined. Bostonians snidely call it the “BU Invitational.” (And as a good Binghamton alum, I always respond to that by asking, “But I don’t see any Bearcats around.”)
While I can’t contribute much beyond what everyone else in the blogsphere has already, I bring you my thoughts from my second in-person Beanpot final.

I like the Boston University band. They are a traditional, large, hard-core athletic pep band. They play upbeat, horn-led, traditional peppy songs. It’s interesting to compare other schools with the BU Band, which is easy to do at the Beanpot. The Harvard band knows five songs total, but I like their fight song and often have it stuck in my head, so they get props. The Northeastern band had the bright idea to include their cheerleaders, but that always makes me nervous, because they place them in front of them, in the front row of the upper most section at the Garden, which has an unacceptably low guardrail. The Boston College band has recently come to the realization that they are a Top-40 station, and played, among other TRL like material, Ridin’ Dirty by Chamillionaire. I don’t have a problem with that…but how does that pump up a crowd? I mean, “They see me rollin’, they hatin’, they’re trying to catch me ridin’ dirty?” (Mind you, I didn’t have to look up these lyrics, that’s how horrible my musical taste is.) I mean, gosh, I know BC tends to play dirty (hello, Gerbe!), but the band shouldn’t be pointing this out in a song.

A young woman at a sporting event alone (Chris had class during the consolation game, and so I ended up at the Harvard-Northeastern consolation game alone) who has knowledge of the game astounds any male over the age of 50. Case in point: I take a wrong turn and end up on the lower box level of the arena. As I’m trying to get to the escalator that will take me where I should be, I pass one of the Boston University players warming up. There were two middle aged men in front of me on the escalator, and they were staring at the player, astounded that he would be out in public stretching. They turn to me and ask me if I knew what team the player was from. I told them, including name, number, year and position without flinching, and they looked at me like I had three heads. But yes, I’m used to this.

It amazes me that the Garden still will acknowledge that the Celtics play there. They had tons of advertisements on the ribbon board and Jumbotron during breaks in the action for the remaining Celtics games. I mean, when the Bills were low they weren’t even this bad. 18 losses in a row? They haven’t won in over a month? How is that supposed to woo me to finally attend a Celtics game? Can they just totally revamp the team, starting with the pronunciation of the name? It’s the Boston Celt-ics! See them wear kilts! See the dance team Irish dance!

I love the second to last row at sporting events. You are either with the die-hards or the careless. There is no in-between in the last two rows. I have fond memories of the second to last row in Rich Stadium, because that’s where my seat was when I saw the 49ers-Bills game (including the one and only Steve Young of course) back in 1998. You know you’re dedicated when you are in the last two rows of any game–in particular football games–because you so want to see this game that you are willing to have that poor of a view.

Why is Budweiser served at hockey arenas? If I ruled the world, all beer in hockey arenas would either be Labatt Blue or Molson Canadian (aka the official beers of Hasenauer family functions–only the most Canadian of beers for the most Canadian of accents.)

Am I correct in remarking that college hockey coaches raise heck over calls a thousand times more than NHL or AHL coaches? In my years of watching hockey with my dad back in Lake-Effect-Snow-Land, I do not remember John Tortorella flinging his arms about regarding a call like the wild-wacky-inflatable-arm-waving-tube-man. Yet college coaches argue every call so spastically and physically that it’s a wonder one hasn’t flipped over the board while doing so yet.

Speaking of Lake-Effect-Snow-Land, here is an off-topic comment: yes, 100 inches of snow is a ton of snow. However, trust me when I say that the people of Oswego, Fair Haven, Sterling and Red Creek, NY know how to deal with it (I would know–I spent summers with my grandparents and aunt in Fair Haven during my childhood.) And really, there are people in those towns who aren’t even batting an eye at this amount. It’s Lake Effect–it’s unpredictable, it’s crazy, and it lasts from October till April. Gotta love it!

If I were BC Athletics, I’d tweak the maroon in their uniforms and other apparel. It’s not consistent and, in its worst form, it resembles a muddy brown. That gold is nice, and is much too vivid to pair up with a maroon with too much brown in it.

Last but not least, I would like to wholeheartedly thank the management of the TD BankNorth Garden for having the foresight to include two Dunkin Donuts in their arena. The championship game didn’t start until 8:15pm, had TV timeouts, and went into overtime. The only thing keeping me going at the end was coffee (or coffee-flavored cream, as I tend to make it.)

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to listen to the news reporters go crazy over 3 inches of snow. Now, when I was a girl, I walked back from school in valleys created from 3 1/2 feet of snow being plowed. Freaking out about 3 inches and some freezing rain will always seem like overkill to me.

Christmas in September: The Dolphins, Week 3 picks, and a Plea to the NHL


The following thought came to me while walking to the T Friday morning, and I had to share:

It’s Christmas in September, thanks to the Miami Dolphins.

Da-da-da-dum.

Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week.

In case you are football illiterate, the Dolphins have always had this tendency to really…how do I put this kindly…suck around December. Several sportswriters always make reference to the annual December downfall of the Dolphins (and not just because it’s excellent alliteration.) But this year, they’ve decided to not have actual ready-for-the-NFL quarterbacks, and therefore, their suckiness has come along four months early. Nice to all of us of fans of other teams in the AFC East, because it means the constant threat of “this actually is the Dolphins’ year” doesn’t exist. Great news to us Bills fans–it means we actually might be better than someone this year. Squishing the fish shouldn’t be too hard this year, providing Bledsoe maintains the limited quarterbacking capacity he has left. It might actually be a good game…and by good, I mean, “evenly matched up.” I didn’t actually mean the teams were good. Oh no, not at all.

But is this game this weekend? No. Do I get to get phone calls from my parents talk about squishing fish and reminiscing about the infamous “Mom causing Dan Marino’s freak devastating ACL injury in 1993” incident, which led my father for years following to ask us all when we hurt ourselves, “Oh, is it your anterior cruciate ligament?” thinking that was the most witty remark he could ever make? (I don’t even know if it was an ACL injury to Marino–but in Hasenauer lore it is.)

No.

It is a bye for the Pats and Bills. Unfortunately, it is not for the Niners. Can the Niners’ go on a permanent bye until Donahue and the rest of his front office decides that in football, money is for spending, not sitting on? Great, you’re rebuilding your team with draft picks. Fine. That’s a commendable way to go. However…if you don’t have veterans, who are the draft picks supposed to emulate? Sure, they have…like one veteran. Jeremy Newberry, who is now out indefinitely, and who wasn’t the best offensive lineman ever in the first place (he’s the one who missed the block that allowed Aeneas Williams to sack Steve Young to end his career) counts as their like one veteran. Tim Rattay? Not a veteran. Okay, wait, they have a really good cornerback guy that I read about in ESPN the Magazine…and he’s not such the young chicken. Oh okay. I was wrong. The Niners have two veterans. My mistake.

Mind you, due to work, I have yet to watch a good amount of football yet this season, and we are entering week 3. This is a travesty. However, I have set aside this Sunday to wake up at 10, eat breakfast, then sit in bed and watch Steve Young out yell Michael Irvin for two hours while Chris Berman screams random things about frozen tundras. It’s good stuff. For those unaware, that’s the equivalent of watching a debate between that good looking and amazingly successful guy everyone hates because he just knows he’s right and has some kind of debate training to back it up and a frantic drug addict who insists that he’s right despite the fact that he couldn’t tell you that 2 + 2 = 4, all while your middle aged goofy uncle attempts to referee. Oh, and after that I’ll watch some football games, all while writing a paper about the “double edged sword” of community colleges. Ahh, some things never change: Sundays = football and homework. Well, until next year, when it equals just football, which will be amazingly weird.

So providing that I’ve neglected picking games so far this season due to my busy schedule and my need to devote appropriate time to my fantasy standings, I give you my picks for Week 3. I may be rusty, so let me feel it out this weekend.

St. Louis over New Orleans (I am the most iffy about this one)

Pittsburgh over Miami (Go Class of ’04!)

Minnesota over Chicago (I hate the Vikings. I pity the Bears. However, I am realistic.)

Giants over Cleveland (Hate Garcia. The Browns also lost like their whole offense last week, so Garcia must be lamenting that he would of had more offensive weapons right now on the Niners than he does right now with the Browns.)

Atlanta over Arizona (Vick = A cocky Steve Young. Arizona = worst team ever except for Fitzgerald and the fact that their coach is Dennis Green. My family is partial to Green, and I don’t really know why, but we always have been.)

Indianapolis over Green Bay (This is Manning’s league right now, whether he deserves it or not.)

Baltimore over Cincinnati (and if they don’t, I’m screwed fantasy wise)

Philadelphia over Detroit (Love ya Mooch. However, I adore the anchors of both my fantasy teams just a bit more, and after Monday night, I am convinced that I made the right decision with them.)

Tennessee over Jacksonville (Second least sure about. I hope I get to see some of this one–I don’t know what either team is really like this year, and seeing them is ten times better than reading about them after a while.)

Kansas City over Houston (The Chiefs are due. They aren’t as bad as everyone is making them out to be. They just have senile, weirdo, or both coaches and coordinators.)

Denver over San Diego (Bring back Flutie!!!!!!!!!!!! Come on, you know Flutie would beat Plummer. You know Flutie would beat Drew Brees for that matter. Or maybe it’s just I who will still be picking Flutie when he’s 60 and doing Canadian infomericals.)

Seattle over San Fransisico (Sniffle, sniffle, tear. Dorsey’s hot. Rattay’s not bad. Why must they lose?)

Oakland over Tampa Bay (Even though Oakland got rid of Rick Mirer. He’s gone to a better place, and that would be backing up Joey Harrington. Sigh…where did the Class of 1993 go wrong?)

Washington over Dallas (Feel better soon, Brunell. Although I have been told never to pick against Parcells, I think it’s safe to this year.)

I think I’ll be lucky if I go 7-7 this week. It takes a week for me to get into the swing of the season.

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Welcome to the SAO:

Two weekends ago, I had to take the student group I advise on a retreat, and the car ride activity in the van I was in was to name your Top 5. Of course, I being the new intern, I was one of the first targets. Of the top of my head I named:

1) Steve Young

2) Mark Brunell

3) Tom Brady

4) Jerome Ignilia

5) Gabe Kapler

Not that those are really my top 5, but they were what I could come up with at the time. My boss laughed at me, and when we were talking about it in the office a few days later, said, “To name her top 5, all you do is just name 3-4 NFL quarterbacks and then fill the rest with two random athletes.”

I beg to differ. Gabe Kapler is not a random athlete. He’s the hottest baseball player ever to exist in the history of the game. That’s definitely not random.

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A short plea to the NHL:

Dear NHL players, owners, and involved parties;

I have recently become single again, therefore I need you to start playing so that I can be easily distracted from my single status. I also have become somewhat attached to writing papers while listening to NHL Radio online, and I fear without that to listen to, my grades will diminish. While I understand I’m probably the last one holding out hope left in America, and that this further proves what a Canadian I really am, I hope that you all take my reasons into account.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

-Katherine

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So I take the bus to work about 60% of the time now. And they have these prerecorded announcements that order us, the T riders, to “report any suspicious activity to the driver,” like the subway does.

Have you ever taken a bus in Boston? If I followed those instructions, I would be sitting in the driver’s lap the duration of my 20 minute ride.

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Personal Note of the Week: I am 3 for 3 in “not only keeping all composure while being dumped, but in keeping the guy as a friend.” I need to teach classes in this. I am single handedly transforming the stereotype of the dumped girl, one breakup of mine at a time.

I’ll give you secret #1, free of charge.

1) Have six tons of work due the next day.

It’s saved me quite a few times, if not all.

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I have yet to catch the new season of Dream Job because I work Tuesday nights, and ESPN is not repeating it yet, but it doesn’t surprise me that the two top contestants right now are Syracuse alums. When I went to the auditions back in July, the guy I thought would definitely make it from Boston was a Syracuse alum. They’re extremely well-spoken and definitely know what they’re doing. This guy had resumes, a tape of his work, references, detailed writing examples…when we hadn’t been asked to bring anything. It was hard core.

It also sounds like the women stink this year. I will make no comment on that, except that you could of avoided that by picking any girl from Boston. It makes me not wonder if they don’t want the women to succeed…but I’ll wait to pass judgment until I can actually see an episode.

Realistically, could I ever make it on Dream Job? Heck no. I mean, in case you haven’t noticed, I stutter. Not the best trait for a sportscaster to have. So I don’t mind sitting back and watching.

If I ever get to catch an episode, that is.

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Signs that my life is wicked different than it was five months ago:

It’s sad when you get up at 8:30, and you consider that sleeping in.

I can shop at Sephora.

My jeans are collecting dust because I can’t wear them to work.

I can go shopping at the Pru and at Copley on my free Friday nights. (I love Back Bay on Friday and Saturday nights. It’s the epitome of what I dreamed my life in Boston would be like.)

But some things never change: I work either Friday or Saturday night every weekend, and it’s September, and I’m battling laryngitis.

Till next time…

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