Takin' a T/O With BT: Getting a "Knight Life" With the 2008 NHL Playoffs

I woke up this morning, and just turned back over—the sheets were too warm to get up, and I didn't really want to go to work. Mainly, I didn't want to come face-to-face with my reflection because I knew that the moment I did, I'd remember what happened Saturday night.

It was kind of felt like waking up the morning after watching the London Knights lose a game 11-1 (it's the OHL, things like that happen), or the minutes following the New York Islanders shoot-out win last season to knock the Leafs out of the playoffs.

You could even compare it to the dying moments of one of those lopsided New England Patriots wins against the Buffalo Bills or the Washington Redskins.

But first, let's deal with Saturday night. 

Now let me clarify off the bat—everything about Saturday worked out perfectly: A late night movie, cruising to Aerosmith and Bon Jovi (which could spark a whole "What's your closers' theme song" debate—although I don't know if anything ever tops Trevor Hoffman's Hells Bells), and skulking around the mall until that certain late-night movie.

So what was I worried about remembering?

It was the movie itself.

See, I've got this insane idea in my head that Al Pacino is more bad-ass than any actor ever before; he plays the intense/hard-core card better than Stallone or Schwarzenegger, he can rival Jack Nicholson in insanity (imagine if you will: Al Pacino playing the Joker in Tim Burton's Batman. I don't care who you are—that would be messed up.), and he can actor circles around a sober Mel Gibson—and probably out-drink The Patriot too.

In all honesty, if I wanted an all-around actor, I'm going court-side at a Lakers game to talk to Jack. If I want a guy who can be play a hardened, grizzled, slightly deranged bad-ass? For me it's either Robert De Niro or Pacino. 

But all of that is why 88 Minutes crushed me—the plot was twisted (in a kind of "we took the script, threw it in a paper shredder, and then tried to piece it together" kind of way), the writing and character structure seemed way off base, and what's more—Al Pacino got stuck in a role that didn't seem quite right for him.

If there was an extra twenty minutes and some character development thrown in, as well as some leeway given to Pacino on his character, then maybe parts of 88 could be saved. Maybe.

But what I thought I was sitting through, was one of the final games of a career—where your favorite super star is still trying to give it his all, but the supporting cast (literally) isn't around him, and it seems like everything and everyone on the team is going against him, at a different speed, or in a different direction.

Now I know we're all out there thinking I'm going to write some sappy article about how this is an exact duplicate of Mats Sundin's final season in Toronto. Well that's not what it is—although now that I think about it, that would work out pretty nicely.

What I'm going to do, however, is ask a favor of anyone who reads this.

I want you to reflect, and look back on some of your favorite players—the guys whose careers you followed religiously, and think about how they developed or where they came from.

We all have our standards: The team captain who earned the "C" from sheer grit and determination, the ace of your staff who battled back from career threatening arm surgery, or Dikembe Mutombo (I defy you to name one person who doesn't like this man).

Looking around the playoff rosters, I've picked out names that once donned the green, gold, and white (or if you wish, teal and eggplant) of my London Knights.

Now Junior Hockey is a little bit different than the NHL—these guys are so young, more accessible, and they're easier to relate to. They aren't making $60 million a year, and they go to school in their "spare time"—making them seem all the more human.

So naturally, when one succeeds, there's a sense of pride that you feel because he's a "hometown boy." Adopted or not, he grew up (in a hockey sense) in your neck of the woods.

Chris Kelly, a former Knight and former captain, had me almost cheering for the Sens. Although I'm legally bound to despise the Sens (check the contract that every Leafs fan signs in their own blood—you may be familiar with it if you are/were a fan of the Bruins), every time Kelly suits up for them, I can't help but cheering for him.

The Montreal Canadiens feature two former Knights: From the Spider-Knight era, you've got Tom Kostopoulos—a guy who's never taken anything for granted, and worked his butt off for everything he's gotten.

Even his childhood bias as a Leafs fan couldn't stop him from taking a job with the Canadiens this past summer—the guy just loves to play.

One of the most recent London graduates is Sergei Kostitsyn. The Belarusian (as the Woz and I affectionately call him) holds the Franchise-record for assists in a season, and accumulated 209 points in 122 careers games in London.

As the Habs knocked out the Boston Bruins, Dennis Wideman (you may remember him as the guy who fell down in the shootout last season) continued to cement himself on the Bruins' blueline, while continually making Londoners proud (your truly has a signed puck that I would never give up for anything).

What about Dan Girardi and Brendan Shanahan? Of former-Knights playing on the same team, these two are the farthest apart in the age category as Girardi is 24 and Shanny is 39.

Even Washington Capitals defenseman John Erskine has found a home in the NHL—another Spider-Knight alumni.

Side note: This may be the perfect time to mention however, that the Spider-Knight was hideous. Think late-90's Mighty Ducks jerseys and then multiply it by three. It's the OHL! In London Ontario! Feel the magic!!! 

Even Knights who aren't in the playoffs have made recent impacts in the NHL.

Did anyone think Rick Nash would have won a Rocket Richard Trophy by now? What about Patrick Kane and Sam Gagner being top-ten picks in this past year's draft?

It looks like I've got a few good careers to start keeping track of doesn't it?

So anyone anywhere who cheers for a Junior Hockey team, whether you live in the same town as your team, or you only follow them because you like the color scheme of the jersey—start pulling for your "hometown boys" if they're in the playoffs.

And if they're not? Well there's always next year.

Just make sure you clue in before there's only 88 Minutes left.