So we have this little wager with Five For Smiting. We're supposed to unload all of our snark on the Sens this week. And we tried, we really did. We declared "Sens Hate Week" on the FHF campus, held a big bonfire, had Youppi hang Spartacat in effigy in front of FHF headquarters. Nothing. We looked for dirt on Spezza and Alfredsson and Redden to no avail. We thought long and hard about things we hate about Kanata, but none of us have actually been anywhere in Kanata other than the Palladium - er, Corel Centre - er, ScotiaBank Place. We tried to work ourselves into a frenzy over losing to Neil Freakin' Brady and the expansion Sens in their first ever game ... but we actually won the Cup that year so we really don't care. We had a good laugh over Alexander Daigle and his nurse's uniform, Alexei Yashin's holdouts, Ray Emery's driving record, Mel Bridgeman's pornostache and the Benny Hill-esque goaltending of Steve Weekes and Peter Sidorkiewicz, but ... nothing.
You see, we like the Senators ... the team referred to as "the tiny, perfect franchise" by NHL brass during the expansion process. The Sens and their fans are such cute little darlings ... from the "Dah dah dah-dah dah! Let's Go Senators!" theme song, to their pleasantly plump anthem singer Constable Slewidge, to their milquetoast manager, coach, captain and fanbase. They're everyone in Ontario and Quebec's second favourite team.
Sens fans travel well; they pour into Montreal and speak their civil servant French, go to Nickels or Baton Rouge, probably tip decently, and politely cheer their team. Bruins fans are boors and Leaf fans are morons, but Sens fans don't raise too much trouble in Montreal because the majority of them still have a "Roy 33" Habs jersey in the closet at home. Oh, the Sens fans boo and hiss the Leafs, and they make themselves loud, but Scotiabank is quite a civil place to watch a game, nowhere near the looneybin the Bell Centre can become.
You see, the Sens suffer from the malaise all expansion teams suffer from. They're building a franchise; that means new history, new heroes, new rivalries. The problem is that every single Ottawa fan over the age of 15 already had a favourite NHL team when the Sens came along. More often than not, that team would have been the Canadiens (give it up, Leaf fans ... it's a geography thing.)
Now don't get me wrong, the Sens have built quite a little rivalry with Toronto over the past few seasons, at times as bitter and nasty as any in the league. Part of that is attributable to constant playoff meetings, some of it a result of the NHL schedule makers (home and home to start the season again? Really?), some is the natural "Canada's Capital" vs "Ontario's Capital" rivalry played out on ice, maybe some is even due to the fact that so many Sens fans grew up cheering on the Habs and love one more reason to boo Toronto. Somehow, though, Montreal/Ottawa never took off. Maybe the demise of the RoughRiders/Renegades/Fighting Gleibermans took some of the sting out of the Montreal/Ottawa rivalry. Maybe it was when they closed the Dunn's in the Byward Market to put in that Nickels. Maybe the Sens and Ottawa are just too lovable, too cute, too vanilla to be angry with. To wit:
The arena is in Kanata, Ottawa's duller, quieter suburb. It's a nice rink, good sightlines, decent size, average amenities. It's a nice pinkish hue on the outside. The fans are loyal, knowledgeable, not too rowdy. The team is lead by a stoic Swedish guy, a pair of polite Western-born defencemen, and a couple of offensive whizzes from Southern Ontario. They have some sort of assembly line producing good natured, swift-skating 18 to 25 goal scorers named Fisher/Kelly/Schaefer/Eaves They all ride bikes while they give post-game interviews. Their goalie wears flashy suits and has trouble with basic traffic laws, and their "enforcer" is a gap-toothed little imp with strawberry blond hair. He looks like he should be carrying a slingshot in the back pocket of his overalls, not throwing bombs with Derek Boogaard.
The Sens are talented, draft well, make smart personnel decisions and win games. They contend. They play hard and fair. In short, they're BORING. Can I hate the Sens for being an efficient, don't-rock-the-boat model for how to do things right? I might as well hate beige, or the Swiss, or the production line of a Toyota plant. I'll start hating seeing-eye dogs, or automated banking, maybe Girl Guide cookies.
Maybe I'll save my anger for the Bruins. And the Leafs. And the Panthers, apparently. I can't seem to develop any rage against the beige. Sorry Sens. It's not your fault.
You see, we like the Senators ... the team referred to as "the tiny, perfect franchise" by NHL brass during the expansion process. The Sens and their fans are such cute little darlings ... from the "Dah dah dah-dah dah! Let's Go Senators!" theme song, to their pleasantly plump anthem singer Constable Slewidge, to their milquetoast manager, coach, captain and fanbase. They're everyone in Ontario and Quebec's second favourite team.
Sens fans travel well; they pour into Montreal and speak their civil servant French, go to Nickels or Baton Rouge, probably tip decently, and politely cheer their team. Bruins fans are boors and Leaf fans are morons, but Sens fans don't raise too much trouble in Montreal because the majority of them still have a "Roy 33" Habs jersey in the closet at home. Oh, the Sens fans boo and hiss the Leafs, and they make themselves loud, but Scotiabank is quite a civil place to watch a game, nowhere near the looneybin the Bell Centre can become.
You see, the Sens suffer from the malaise all expansion teams suffer from. They're building a franchise; that means new history, new heroes, new rivalries. The problem is that every single Ottawa fan over the age of 15 already had a favourite NHL team when the Sens came along. More often than not, that team would have been the Canadiens (give it up, Leaf fans ... it's a geography thing.)
Now don't get me wrong, the Sens have built quite a little rivalry with Toronto over the past few seasons, at times as bitter and nasty as any in the league. Part of that is attributable to constant playoff meetings, some of it a result of the NHL schedule makers (home and home to start the season again? Really?), some is the natural "Canada's Capital" vs "Ontario's Capital" rivalry played out on ice, maybe some is even due to the fact that so many Sens fans grew up cheering on the Habs and love one more reason to boo Toronto. Somehow, though, Montreal/Ottawa never took off. Maybe the demise of the RoughRiders/Renegades/Fighting Gleibermans took some of the sting out of the Montreal/Ottawa rivalry. Maybe it was when they closed the Dunn's in the Byward Market to put in that Nickels. Maybe the Sens and Ottawa are just too lovable, too cute, too vanilla to be angry with. To wit:
The arena is in Kanata, Ottawa's duller, quieter suburb. It's a nice rink, good sightlines, decent size, average amenities. It's a nice pinkish hue on the outside. The fans are loyal, knowledgeable, not too rowdy. The team is lead by a stoic Swedish guy, a pair of polite Western-born defencemen, and a couple of offensive whizzes from Southern Ontario. They have some sort of assembly line producing good natured, swift-skating 18 to 25 goal scorers named Fisher/Kelly/Schaefer/Eaves They all ride bikes while they give post-game interviews. Their goalie wears flashy suits and has trouble with basic traffic laws, and their "enforcer" is a gap-toothed little imp with strawberry blond hair. He looks like he should be carrying a slingshot in the back pocket of his overalls, not throwing bombs with Derek Boogaard.
The Sens are talented, draft well, make smart personnel decisions and win games. They contend. They play hard and fair. In short, they're BORING. Can I hate the Sens for being an efficient, don't-rock-the-boat model for how to do things right? I might as well hate beige, or the Swiss, or the production line of a Toyota plant. I'll start hating seeing-eye dogs, or automated banking, maybe Girl Guide cookies.
Maybe I'll save my anger for the Bruins. And the Leafs. And the Panthers, apparently. I can't seem to develop any rage against the beige. Sorry Sens. It's not your fault.
