Okay, so where am I?

It was time to go north of the border to help out with some family things, but also to continue to doing research and interviews for my Kontinental Hockey League book. This time my travels took me once again to Montreal, Canada.

Maybe you don’t know Montreal. Maybe you think it’s that crazy city in that crazy provence that wanted to cede from Canada. Maybe you don’t care at all. I do, because Montreal is the Mecca of all hockey. The home of the greatest concentration of championships in the National Hockey League. Anywhere there’s hockey finds me an invites me metaphorically to explore the city and take in a game. But there’s more to Montreal than just hockey.

Montreal is a city with considerable French colonial history dating back to the 16th century. It began as a missionary settlement but soon became a fur-trading center. The city’s St. Lawrence River location proved to be a major advantage in its development as a manufacturing, financial, and transportation center. Montreal was the largest metropolitan center in the country from 1867, at the time of the Confederation of Canada until Toronto overtook it in the 1970s. It stands as the second largest French-speaking city in the world (after Paris).

The city has been a immigrant destination and is widely considered to be a cosmopolitan celebration of Québécois style. Montreal remains a city of great charm, vivacity, and gaiety, as well as one of unquestioned modernity. In short, Montreal is c’est si bon.

Fans enter the Bell Centre for the Montreal Canadiens game.

Bonsecours Market in Old Montreal.

The iconic hearts sculpture outside the Musee des Beaux Arts.

Rinkside at the Montreal vs. Carolina NHL game.

Love is in the air.

The Monument à George-Étienna Cartier

Outside of Parts, Montreal has the world’s finest French food.

Unique single-wind walk up stairs line the city.

The Basilique Notre-Dame is a confection of stained glass.

The post The 43 Postcards Project: Montreal appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Okay, so where am I?

I am doing a little happy dance because I’ve been GREENLIT!

Yes indeed, my little pitch about writing a book on the wacky, wild, and sometimes great Kontinental Hockey League has been accepted for a 2021 publish date by Penguin Random House Canada.

I mean, who would have thought that a 2018 side trip to CKSA Ice Arena in Moscow and a chance meeting with Igor would have produced a 2021-word article in my regular Jewels From The Crown (an LA Kings blog) spot and led to one of its most read columns in recent years. That success gave me the courage to pitch my book and low and behold, my author’s acceptance arrived nearly a year later.

Now the hard work begins, finishing the actual book. Mark Twain famously said, “Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words.” A comic he was…

The difficult part of writing a book isn’t getting published, it’s the actual writing and the self analysis that comes with it. As an author of multiple books, I can tell you without hesitation that the hardest part of a writer’s job is hunkering down to do the work. Books don’t just write themselves, you know. Sweat equity is the key. You must invest your entire being into creating your important piece of work.

For years, I dreamed of being a writer. Mostly for television and then for newspapers. I knew in my soul I had vital things to say that the world wanted to hear. But as I look back on what it actually takes to become an author, I realize that the process doesn’t always mesh with expectations.

To start with, you don’t just sit down to write a book like Paul Sheldon does in a cabin in Misery. That’s not how writing works. It begins with writing a sentence, then a paragraph, then maybe if you’re in a groove, an entire chapter. Writing happens in fits and starts, in bits and pieces. It’s a process. It’s the art of sculpting fog.

The way you get the work done is not complicated. You take one step at a time, then another and another. As I look back on the books I’ve written, I can see how the way they were made was not as glamorous as I once thought.

I did discover that writing in the same place every time spurred great words, incredible sentences, and better paragraphs. It doesn’t matter if it’s your patio or a a sauna or the backseat of your car, it really just needs to be a different space from where you do your other activities. Make your writing spot a special space, so that when you enter it, you’re ready to find that inner inspiration. It should reaffirm you of your commitment to finish.

Another important thing to keep in mind is the total word count. You should already see the light at the end of the tunnel. Here is a quick guide to what word ranges mean in terms of what you will get at the end of your writing:

• 10,000 words = a pamphlet or business white paper. Read time = 30-60 minutes.
• 20,000 words = short eBook or manifesto. The Communist Manifesto is an example of this, at about 18,000 words. Read time = 1-2 hours.
• 40,000-60,000 words = standard nonfiction book / novella. The Great Gatsby is an example of this. Read time = three to four hours.
• 60,000-80,000 words = long nonfiction book / standard-length novel. Most Malcolm Gladwell books fit in this range. Read time = four to six hours.
• 80,000-100,000 words = very long nonfiction book / long novel. The Four-Hour Work Week falls in this range.
• 100,000+ words = epic-length novel / academic book / biography. Read time = six to eight hours. The Steve Jobs biography would fit this category.

In the end, the hardest part is really getting the book deal but the real work is turning a 2000-word column into a 100,000 word novel. Wish me luck

The post GREENLIT! A New Media Guy Book appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

I believe hockey cards have supernatural powers.

This is why, in the winter of 1975, I starting arranging my Los Angeles Kings cards like players on a hockey rink on the top of my mammoth hand-me-down stereo console. And then challenged the NHL All Stars—or at least the cards I was able to collect—to a game of pickup hockey on top of the console. My “rink” was oblong and the perfect length for a fantasy game. There were even miniature nets I cobbled together from old metal tubing and bakery string from the pink boxes from the store around the corner.

This was my pre-game ritual before road games and it made the post-homework, pre-parent evening arrivals go faster. Just before the games would face-off usually on the radio (there were few televised road games back in the mid-70s), I would set the the cards out. Starters on the hardwood ice and reserves side-by-side in a makeshift bench constructed out of old quart-sized milk cartons. Then I would walk behind the bench and shift out the players as Bob Miller and Rich Marotta let me know who was on the ice and on the bench.

The cards were voodoo to me, every bit as powerful as the Six Million Dollar Man and on par with the Millennium Falcon’s holographic chess players. I knew, laid out on the stereo, with their energy unbridled, and with my calm benchside manner utilizing my Carrie-like telekinetic powers, that all of this would make a difference, make all the difference, in the outcome of the game.

I used to put hexes on Bobby Orr. I (wrongfully) took credit for his bad knees when I read about them in The Hockey News (sorry Bob). I tore up my extra Gerry Cheevers card and tossed it in the freezer before the game six of the 1976 quarter finals went into overtime. Sure enough, Butch Goring solved Cheevers late in overtime forcing a game seven. Maybe if I had a second Cheevers card for game seven things might have turned out different that year.

These days, hockey cards aren’t distributed like they used to be. You could get them at any convenience store or supermarket. You could even buy them at the Fabulous Forum souvenir stands. The full-sized hockey sticks were $7, pucks were $1, and a wax pack of Topps hockey cards were $1.25. Now, the only place I can find them are on eBay or enclosed in authenticated plastic and up for auction.*

When I was first collecting, hockey cards were about memories. You held Gil Perraeult’s card in your hand and you pictured his smooth, effortless skating and the flight of his laser-infused puck spinning towards the back of the net. You saw in the close-up shot of Bobby Clarke the steely eyes you’d gotten a glimpse of on TV weeks before, peeking out from under his shaggy locs as he racked up another 12 minutes in penalties and two more goals. The 1976-77 cards featured cartoons with fun facts. I mean how would I every know that Rogie Vachon was very superstitious and Guy LaFleur’s last name meant “flower.”

Many cards featured bad haircuts and goofy smiles. These players could be your favorite uncle who came to visit only at Thanksgiving. These guys might get you that slice of pie or extra piece of white meat. Those feelings never leave you. It’s about the way a card, for whatever reason, lingers with you, loiters in the imagination, as does some kind of magic.

I was an only child, and my parents were divorced. My dad was an old baseball guy, so the hockey fascination wasn’t something he understood too much. My hockey card addiction wasn’t inherited, nor was it influenced by dad or other family members. The great thing about dad is that he married well. His second wife worked in the Fabulous Forum’s ticket office, so we would get tickets to any Kings game that wasn’t a sellout (meaning lots of home games). When I was eight, I regularly went to games by myself (don’t worry, in 1976 this was good parenting). At the games, I knew every usher, every concessions person, and every ticket seller. I traded cards with some of them. I got a perspective of the adult world that served me well.

I’ll know former Kings winger Bob Nevin’s stats until I die. Nevin scored 64 goals, had 113 assists, and amassed 45 penalty minutes in 235 games in a Kings’ uniform. Why the obsession with a run-of-the-mill winger on his fourth NHL team? Seems he was dating a friend of dad’s second wife whom I had a crush on. It seemed like every pack of cards I opened after that discovery had his face in it. He was clean cut with a perfect jaw and wore the expression of an engineer launching spaceships into outer space. I analyzed those numbers to death wondering how Bob Nevin could land someone like her. Back then, though, all my eight-year-old self knew was that he was a somebody, and I seemed to have a shoe box stuffed to the gills with his nobody cards.

Over time, as we get older, the cards—the collecting, the sorting, the trading, the hours spent in their company and in the company of friends and family who let me think they felt their magic, too—became memories themselves.

So this year where my father passed away at 70, it wasn’t the stories at his funeral, the old photographs or the memories from his friends and colleagues that made it possible to wrap my mind around him being gone. It was a card. Back at dad’s place after the services, I stood in his spare bedroom and looked at the frames and the books on his shelves, and then I saw it, the Gerry Cheevers torn card, fused back together with that cheap, yellowed tape, perched on the shelf in front of his cigar boxes, sitting there like some sacred object on an altar. Like Dad, Cheevers looked like he was the cat who ate the canary, like he was having a last laugh, like he was giving me the business and up to something.

I took the card down off the shelf and carved up a milk carton and placed him on the bench this time. And then I paced around the bedroom listening to the Kings game in somewhat of a trance. Missing dad. Feeling good and bad at once. Knowing everything was different. Feeling somehow, just for a moment, as if it were all the same.

* – Here are some beauties up for auction this month. But please, don’t bid against me!

The post Cardboard Magic appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Repping the great Ilya Kolvachuk at a KHL game will earn you mad props. © Michael Lloyd

I took a wild trip to Moscow to get up close with Russian hockey. I wound up meeting Igor…read on!

While we wait for the boys to return from the combination All-Star break and mandatory five-day bye week to continue their #PlayoffPush / #LoseForHughes games, here’s a little excerpt from my KHL Moscow trip.

By now, most of the loyal Perspectives readers know a few things about me.

1. I don’t like the interim Kings coach (professionally, not personally).
2. I’m not a sportswriter (…okay let the jokes begin…at least I’m passionate about giving you 1,000 words of weekly contrarian opinion).
3. I made my living for the last 30+ years in the marketing and advertising worlds.

So why the buildup today? I felt it was important to let you know these things before briefly jumping into my intrepid journey in Russia covering the Kontinental Hockey League for an upcoming book I’m writing about sports marketing in Europe.

When the call came in October to travel to Moscow for a few days in and around Red Square to visit the periphery of the current CSKA Moscow team, I was a little hesitant. “Why” you ask?

Well…

Back in the nineties, Romania called. Literally, the country called. The economic development minister guided me over to CSP UM Timişoara, an also-ran in the Romanian Futbol League. I was signed to a nice six-figure contract to lay out the marketing plan and roll it out to the country. Long story short, after selling out the first (and last) game due in large part to my advertising campaign, the Romanian mafia who financed the club asked me to leave “Godfather-style” and promptly bankrupted the team.

At the time, the appeal of Europe for media and marketing was growing by leaps and bounds and it definitely makes sense. If you know your stuff and you can deliver smooth ideas and polished programs, you’re all set for a cushy life. It worked out for some. For me, that was my only attempt to “make it” in Europe.

So when my book editor arranged for a flight and a visa to Moscow, who was I to say no? I mean, who could refuse such an assignment? After all, this club was the home of all of those legendary Red Army players who dominated the world scene before the collapse of the Soviet Union: Slava Fetisov, Pavel Bure, Alexei Kasatonov, the KLM Line (Vladimir Krutov, Igor Larionov, and Sergei Makarov), Sergei Federov, Boris Mikhailov, Vladislav Tretiak…I could go on and on. They all played there.

Over the years, the KHL has earned a reputation as a wild and crazy place replete with heat-packing team owners, paper bag cash payments for players and staff, intense eight-week training camps, and a penchant for creating scandal you might expect only from a Netflix movie. This notwithstanding, since being founded in 2008 under the tutelage of Russian President Vladimir Putin, the KHL has solidified itself as the world’s second-best hockey league.

So, after securing a commitment to gain entry into Russia and very little else, I hunkered down into research mode. My research uncovered 25 teams spread across eight countries and two continents. I discovered a league that possesses a trove of talent most North Americans have never heard of and never will see. My goal quickly began to gain some sort of access to left winger Kirill Kaprizov and goalie Ilya Sorokin. In case you missed it, Kaprizov dominated at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics, notching nine points (5G, 4A) in six games played, while being the darling of KHL hockey. Sorokin was drafted by the Islanders as an 18-year-old. Through 34 games backstopping CSKA Moscow, he sports a 23-6-3 record with a 1.25 GAA and a .937 save percentage to go with eight shutouts.

I jumped on the international Stubhub site to grab a pair of CSKA Moscow tickets for the December 28th game versus defending Gagarin Cup* champs Ak Bars. I quickly charged the $78 for the tickets in first seven rows, including fees, and even though Citibank put a fraud alert on my card for 48 hours because of the Russia charges, I was feeling pretty, pretty good.

* – Speaking of the Gagarin Cup, much like the Stanley Cup we all love and revere, the KHL has its own sweet story for their championship trophy. The KHL hardware is named for cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin. He’s the first human to venture into space and was proclaimed as the “hero of the Soviet Union” by Nikita Khrushchev. Gagarin died in a plane crash nearly eight years after his space odyssey. He is entombed at the Kremlin.

I arrived to Moscow on Christmas Day (I know, I know; how Rocky IV of me) and after a VIP tour of the Kremlin, Red Square, and St. Basil’s Cathedral, along with a trip to Saint Petersburg, it was finally game day. Nothing could slow my enthusiasm. Not the snow or three-degree temperatures or even a snobby cab driver who lectured me about the “corrupt league where the banned doctors practice.” Misjudging the right time to get there, I was at the CSKA Ice Arena well ahead of the 7:30 match time, beating even the most of the security staff.

CKSA Ice Arena

Just to the west of the parking booth and gate was the one open door: the media entrance. There were cameramen and suited talking heads meandering through, so I decided to put my international press card into play. It came in handy here as I flashed it liberally to get through to the hallway leading to the locker rooms. This is where my plans to interview Kirill Kaprizov and/or Ilya Sorokin hit a brick wall. No, not a real brick wall, but rather Igor.

Who was Igor? He was simply a human that was thicker and stronger than any brick wall. Each bicep had a circumference that was easily more than my skull and his hands looked like could they crush my skull just like The Mountain did to the Viper in Game of Thrones. Nonetheless, I didn’t memorize five questions in Russian for my interview to be turned away by Igor.

At first, Igor laughed at me and scoffed at my international press card that dated my current salt and pepper style by at least ten years. Then he had me frisked by his colleague, who was easily the most terrifying man whomever guarded a hockey arena.

As soon as I tried to out-clever the duo, the conversation kicked in.

“Listen Mr. Michael,” he growled, “I don’t care how far you travel to meet our great players. No CSKA (pronounced “siska”) Moscow media card. No blonde hair. No cute smile. No enter my arena. Only Cowboy Reagan has chance to get here.”

To which I replied, “Reagan has been dead for years. Are you saying a dead man has a better chance than me to get in?”

That produced three giant belly laughs that lasted well over a minute. I earned some goodwill and bought myself some time but alas, no locker room entry and interviews were forthcoming. Seems that Igor was (purportedly) former KGB and didn’t catch on with the FSB (which succeeded the KGB). He knocked around the nightclub scene and even called in some favors to work security detail for some high-ranking dancers at the Bolshoi before landing on the hockey scene. Now he calls the KHL home and takes his work more seriously than anything he ever did at the KGB.

What I did win was a new friend in Igor and some ridiculous stories of the early KHL and Russia Superleague days.

During the 2004-05 NHL lockout, Ak Bars put together a squad that included 11 NHL players; among them were Ilya Kovalchuk, Dany Heatley, Alexei Kovalev, Vincent Lecavalier, and Brad Richards. “Here we try win championship for mighty Kazan’s 1000th anniversary,” Igor recalls. “We have giant payroll. But you know what they don’t have? There were no towels, locker room attendants, or drinks after games. Maybe that’s why lost in the first round of the playoffs.”

I learned about the practice of bazas. It’s a cultural thing where teams bunker down in desolate, rural buildings before important games and playoff series. Igor explained: “One club I was with put us in middle of nowhere. Mr. Michael, this is not a figure of speech. This baza is not on fancy Google Maps. As matter of fact, no map was ever created for this. It was an old, crumbling factory that have dormitories for workers. It was 35 kilometers from anything. Anything. Except forest. Forest was for training and there was tree for all of us. The coaching staff make everyone climb a tree before breakfast was served. Even staff.”

I dared to ask him why he’s been with so many clubs (this is his seventh in 15 years). “Many teams are very late in paying people,” Igor reports. “They would go months without paying us and then they would pay in plain box in cash. Of course there would be ‘taxes’ already taken from the cash. For players, this is fine because they don’t live payday to payday. But us ex-KGB guys need regular payments. You wonder if you ever get paid.”

As 7:30 approached, Igor reminded me that I wasn’t getting in. We had a good time trading NHL and KHL stories. We exchanged contact information and Twitter handles. He helped me bypass the giant staircase leading to the security entrances. I was safe after all having been patted down better than any TSA in the world. It was time to see what the KHL game was actually like.

Every aisle, in every section, has two cheerleaders with pom poms. During stoppages they all perform in sync with each other in perfect synergy.

I wound up sitting next to Anatoly who, as a former official at the United Nations, was a former season ticket holder of the New York Rangers. He was there in 1994 when the Rangers won their first Stanley Cup in 50 years and he was in Kazan in 2017 when Ak Bars won the Gagarin Cup. I was told that the principal dissimilarity between the NHL and KHL is the pressure of the season. At only 60 games, there are few nights, if any, where you can take the night off. Teams don’t have the luxury to give away wins (worth three points when earned in regulation). Ownership fires coaches left and right. “Everyone is George Steinbrenner here,” Anatoly brags.

The style of play grabs you from the start. The surface is Olympic-sized so the players can move around and you can feel the skill. There’s very little dump and chase. You can see the roots of Russian hockey on display at all times. The spirit of the legendary Anatoli Tarasov, “the father of Russian ice hockey”, lives. He taught his players what he learned observing the Bolshoi Ballet, transferred it to hockey, and gave rise to creativity so the improvisational could flourish.

Tonight, CSKA Moscow hardly let AK Bars touch the puck for two periods, outshooting them 30-8 and tripling their attack time. If they couldn’t carry the puck into the zone, they would regroup three, four, five times before entering the zone. Each pass was crisp, hitting the tape without error. It all about puck possession.

And the fan experience?

“It’s wildly entertaining,” says Anatoly. “The fans are fun to watch. Cheerleaders are fun to watch. The kids bring signs and hold them up through the game, all game. There’s booster clubs left and right with special cheers. People aren’t sitting on their hands, they’re really into it. Also CSKA has not one, but two mascots—a horse and a star.”

As the horn sounded to end the final period, CSKA Moscow cruised to a 4-2 win. Maybe I witnessed the future 2019 Gagarin Cup champion here tonight. And my would-be interview? I guess I was scooped:

Note: This column originally appeared on Jewels From the Crown, January 28, 2019

The post Behind the Curtain: A Peek at the KHL appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Note: Part I can be found here.

Part II.

I’m back from the holiday break and what did we learn (or were reminded of) between the trading freeze and today?

• Drew Doughty is an All Star.
• The Kings have fantastic goaltending and goalie coaches.
• Willie D. has no idea how to build team chemistry.
• The players have goal songs. 
• Jack Hughes is still in play!

While I was touring Kontinental Hockey League country (column coming next week), my inbox was filling up from those of you who had their own bad fan experiences. So before I get to the worst 10 fans of all time, here are the top email selections from you, the readers:

• Shirt off guy. Sometimes in the upper upper 300s.
• The visiting fan entourage who starts chanting their hometown chant.*
• The guy who gets ice cream all over himself and doesn’t realize it.
• Sharks Fans who call Kings Fans “bandwagoners.”
• The Creepy Dance Cam Guy.
• The guy who thinks he’s a hockey scout.
• The former college player.
• The guy sitting 600 feet from the ice who screams at the refs and actually thinks they can hear him over 100 db of Bon Jovi and crowd noise.

* – The only time this actually works is the Freeway Series where Kings fans invade the Honda Center. The “Go Kings Go” is two to three times louder than “Let’s Go Ducks.” Ducks fans may actually be the worst in all of sports. But that’s another column altogether.

And, now on with the countdown…

10. Too Many Beers Guy

Here are the warning signs:

A.) He’s typically a college freshman who hasn’t really figured out the whole drinking thing yet;
B.) He’s usually the shortest guy in his group;
C.) Every TV timeout, he hops up for another round;
D.) He almost always returns to his seat carrying two beers and spilling them all over the place;
E.) He enters a glazed stupor by the second intermission.

9. The Puck Father

You know this guy. He’s near the team benches — near the spot where the junior equipment folks throw out the pucks before the players emerge for warmups — practically pleading for pucks and holding his kid up in the air like a hostage.

8. Check-in Guy

Check-in Guy brings his kid to the game and feels the need to call home during every period to check in with his wife. The first call usually unfolds in a sequence like this:

”Hey honey, it’s me…” (Translation: I just wanted to thank you for letting me come to the game.) 

”I can barely hear you!” (Indeed, it’s tough to hear when you’re sitting in an arena with 17,000 other people.) 

”We’re at the game!” (Always said with an inflection, as if it’s an amazing feat to be able to call someone from a hockey game.) 

”It’s great!” (He wouldn’t know if the game’s good or not, because he just sat down and couldn’t allow a few minutes to pass without calling.) 

”Uh-huh, yeah he’s right here.” (It’s important for the wife to know that her husband didn’t lose their child.) 

”I’ll let you talk to him…” (To prove it.)

Every subsequent call pretty much sounds the same. On the bright side, this guy also leaves early because it’s a school night.

7. Stoned Aggressive Guy

He’s a distant cousin to the Too Many Beers Guy. These guys are prepared to offend everyone within earshot of their seats. They’ll catcall your girlfriend, daughter, or sister. They’ll drop random F-bombs. They’ll spill beer on you. They’ll use their middle finger until it hurts. Usually you can spot the SAGs right away, sometimes even before the game starts.

6. Instagram Mom

The first of two callouts to the ladies in my top ten goes to the Instagram Mom. She’s the mom who suddenly decides that she needs to get a picture of her family during the middle of a period so she can post it real time on Instagram. Bonus points are earned here if she’s oblivious enough to ask somebody else in the section to take the picture.

Photo by Jonathan Kozub/NHLI via Getty Images

5. The Obnoxious Guy Rooting for the Visitors

Look, most of us have cheered our home team in an enemy arena; however, there’s a huge disparity between supporting the visitors and provoking the home fans, amirite? The Obnoxious Guy usually wears some form of opposing paraphernalia (usually a sweater, sometimes a hat), shouts out unintelligent nicknames for his players, claps his hands repulsively, curses and flashes his middle finger towards the ice, and does everything imaginable to exasperate people in his section. He blossoms when he does it.

4. Flirty Fans

Hockey has a spectacle where some women make “Marry Me” or double-entendre signs directed at players and stand at the glass during warmups, garnering a lot of attention on social media these days. You see that a lot on the Eastern time zones, not so much in the West.

3. Work Buddies

Listen, going with work buddies is excellent team building and camaraderie. But pick your seatmates wisely because three out of five of your work buddies have no interest in the game and we all suffer. They’re sitting in the company seats. Sometimes wearing suits or a blazer over jeans. They’re nursing a single beer over two periods. They’re discussing work-related projects. They still think Canadians say “Eh?” every two seconds. They’re not afraid to tell a story from that other hockey game they went to eight years ago and they definitely plan on leaving before the end of the game to “beat the traffic.”

As an added punch in the stomach, they usually have great seats. The world just isn’t fair. Don’t confuse this guy with Game Date Guy. Game Date Guy brings his budding relationship to her first hockey game and tries to show her why hockey is the greatest game on earth. That guy is just plain awesome.

2. Cotton Candy Guy

This is the guy who orders something from a strolling vendor during a critical penalty kill. He doesn’t just order, he stands up to take his wallet out and decides if it’s going to be a twenty or a ten he is going to pay with. He remains standing, unaware, until someone gives him the “DOWN IN FRONT!” and forces him into the half-standing, half-crouch position. Goodness gracious, sakes alive, I hate this guy.

Odd Fact #1: This guy is always firmly planted in the middle of a row, which means everyone needs to pass both the cash and the purchased item back and forth. If you want everyone in your section to hate you with every fiber of their being, start here.

Odd Fact #2: Cotton Candy Guy usually pulls double duty as Check-in Guy. If you ever notice Check-in Guy at the start of a game, buckle up for the vendor/wallet fiasco at some point. Trust me here.

1. Cell Phone Guy

The guy sitting on the glass right behind the goal who talks excitedly on his cell phone and executes those “Hey, look at me!” waves during every scrum behind the net. Cell phones at the game is the worst phenomenon of the technology century, especially the dude who wants to showcase what he can do to disrupt the game experience from his $750 seat.

That wraps up the top ten. I am sure I missed some, so feel free to write in with your own. In the countdown world, I think I’m supposed to quote the immortal Casey Kasem and remind you to “Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars.”

The post The Worst Fans in Hockey—10 through 1 appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Number 14 – Big Hat Guy (c) Dan Hamilton-USA TODAY Sports

It’s time for a break from criticizing the Kings, so I turn my gaze on some fans instead.

I started this column a few weeks back by previewing and revealing the Number Five Worst Hockey Fan: Obnoxious Loud Guy. Today, I look at the worst fans, numbers 20 through 11. Full disclosure, I’ve probably morphed through being some of these guys in my 45 years watching puck all over North America. I’m on version 4.0 of myself. It’s a better place.

Now, on with the countdown…

Oh wait. Before I get to the worst 20, I’d be remiss not to cover the Honorable Mentions:

• The guy who gets his kid a souvenir stick before the game and lets them spend the entire game banging it against the back of your seat. (Bonus points when they whack you in the back of the head once or twice.)
• Foul-mouthed dude in the middle of a section filled with kids.
• Dude wearing a sweater with his own name on the back.
• Guy sitting in the first two rows who stands when there’s a fight so he can see better and instead blocks your view.
• Guy on the glass who bangs the glass during that same fight.
• Dude who challenges players in the penalty box.
• Without further ado, here’s the first installment of my worst fans in hockey countdown.

20. Restless Leg Couple

The couple ten seats into a row who leave and come back repeatedly, each period, every period, and then struggles with their footing as they inch by with drinks without lids.

19. Dude Who Sits in Your Seat / The Guy Who Is in the Right Seat and Row, But Wrong Section

You know the guy who sneaks down into your seat when he sees a patch of empties. He’s made himself comfortable — even brought his food with him and/or left his empty wrappers in your foot space. Arenas use assigned seating and have ushers for a reason. This guy should be ranked higher but the pain typically only lasts for a second.

18. Jealous Dude

This is the guy who thinks the entire stadium is looking at his girlfriend. Jealous Dude does not want you looking at her. And no matter what happens, even if you’re clearly not looking at her, he’s still glancing around with one of those Robert DeNiro Looks from Taxi Driver all over his face.

17. Back of Bench Dude

The guy sitting near the opposing team bench who yells insults, usually unfunny ones, at every player on the bench. This guy is polite in every aspect of his life but turns into a Vegas standup guy after knocking back a few. Unfortunately for all of us, he’s not remotely clever and stumbles out insults like, “Hey, Dumba, did you lose your magic feather?” He’s bombing out there and doesn’t care. Every time I sit near Back of Bench Dude, I’m always angry he didn’t bring his sitcom laugh track.

16. Phonetic Guy

This guy needs to pronounce every Russian or Slovak or Czech player’s name the way a native speaker would say it. You know, the know-it-all American who digs out his acting class Eastern European accent to pronounce “Artem Anisimov” or “Tomáš Plekanec” when shouting out the names of those respective players. Phonetic Guy is the same guy who turns around and corrects you when you unknowingly screw up a fact.

15. Big Shot in the Cheap Seats

We have a saying when we go to StubHub searching for the game: “Do you want good seats or in the building?” The wallet usually dictates “in the building.” I mean, just being there is a treat. Way in the upper upper 300s, there are some interesting characters. Like the fool sitting right in back of you telling his bros about the struggles of being in upper management but bragging about the “great seats that he got from work.” He’s in denial somewhere.

14. Big Hat Guy

Hey big hat guy! Give us a chance to see the game. Save the Babushka or your derby-shaped Kangol for your trip to the snow. Inside the arena, don’t act oblivious that you’re blocking my view. You definitely are and it isn’t the slightest bit cute. I hate that guy.

13. Guy with Glass Seats Who Brings His Young Kids and Doesn’t Take Away Their Electronics

I don’t know, it just bugs the living hell out of me. It’s worse on television when there’s a big play and the kid can barely lift their eyes up to see what just happened.

12. Bad Parents

Yeah, yeah, I know where you think I’m headed. Think again. Bad hockey parenting is where you’re a long-term Kings fan who let’s their kids make their favorite team choices. You’ve seen the beaten-down father wearing a Dustin Brown sweater while his kids sport their Ducks or Sharks sweaters. That’s bad parenting, plain and simple. As soon as they are born you have to drill the sports bias into them. You have to go all Manchurian Candidate Fan on them, brainwashing at will.

11. The Dude Who Wears a Sweater of Someone Who Isn’t on the Team

Okay, (most) retired players are exempt here. So are the warm-up jerseys you won in the Kings Care Foundation silent auction, or even a game-worn sweater.

This actually happened: Three weeks ago at Staples, I spotted someone wearing a purple Kings, number 28 Oleg Tverdovsky, sweater. I swear. Apparently his “other sweater” was in the wash.

Now, pay attention Kings fans, because Guy Number 11 will probably be pretty relevant come the 2019 trade deadline: Once a someone is traded away, don’t wear it to the stadium. Don’t burn it or throw it away either. Wear it at home when you are cleaning or watching a game on the NHL Network.

That’s it for this week … we’ll continue the countdown soon. What fans do you think will make the top 10?

This column is from my Perspectives From The Cheap Seats slot on Jewels From The Crown.

The post The Worst Fans in Hockey—20 through 11 appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Read the new column: click here.

Okay, so where am I?

It’s almost time to leave town…vacation style. Well, working vacation. Actually just working at my moonlighting gig. Shhhhh, it’s top secret…

Before I get to the business at hand in this column, I want to report on the homework assignment I spoke of in the last column. The good news (for me at least) is that I got the gig for the hockey website Jewels From The Crown, an SB Nation site dedicated to my beloved Los Angeles Kings. I’ll be writing a weekly opinion column called “Perspectives from the Cheap Seats.” The best part about all of this so far is the killer bio they put up:

Michael Lloyd used to sit in Jack Kent Cooke’s office at the Fabulous Forum stuffing season tickets into envelopes. Since then he’s grown up to be a modern-day mad man with a couple of Clio Awards and Emmys to his credit while penning multiple books. As a 45-year Kings fan, Lloyd brings a unique brand of angst and perspective to the cheap seats.

Yeah, that’s fairly awesome!

Speaking of killers…there are the seven deadly sins and the seven marketing career killers. Believing in bogus platitudes, falling into cognitive bias, clustering into cliques and four other things that could stop your marketing career in its tracks.

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” Italian philosopher George Santayana famously said. In the workplace, the saying may as well be, “Those who cannot learn from the errors of others are doomed to make the same mistakes.”

Author Becki Saltzman wrote about seven career killers in her recent book, “Living Curiously: How to Use Curiosity to Be Remarkable and Do Good Stuff”. Each is very common and likely noticeable by anyone who has worked in an office setting, and each can stop a high-potential career in its tracks.

To combat these career killers, Saltzman suggests bringing curiosity to work every day.

“Bringing a dose of curiosity to your expectations, you can remain curious prior to being judgmental, fearful, complacent or critical,” she says.

Here are Saltzman’s seven career killers and how marketers can reverse course on them.

1. Believing in bogus platitudes

Statements such as “Let’s not reinvent the wheel” and “The customer is always right”​ are clichés and beliefs that can end up being major roadblocks to career advancement.

“Platitudes can be a trap in marketing,” Saltzman says, adding that most of these platitudes, such as “Quitting is the easiest thing to do,” don’t ring true in many situations.

“Tell that to me with a pitcher of margaritas and a bowl of chips in front of me,” she says with a laugh.

Instead of believing in these cliché maxims, Saltzman suggests testing assumptions by looking at these sayings with curiosity and skepticism. Test and explore how they can relate to aspects of work, such as the review and promotion process, evaluation of leaders and hiring or firing of employees.

Saltzman gave an example of how dangerous it can be to adhere too strictly to platitudes. She was working as a sales manager at a retail shop when a customer tried to return a vial of perfume; the vial was filled with urine.

“My employee was like, ‘What do I do? The customer is always right.’ But that’s the time where you may have to elevate curiosity a little bit to see if that actually matches reality and if ‘The customer is always right’ is going to fit with the review process,” she says.

Illustration by Andrew Joyner

2. Clustering into cliques

Becoming cliquish at work can provide a sense of belonging and security, but it can also mean putting a cap on your potential at work by branding yourself as a group instead of an individual.

Instead of forming a friend group, a la high school, Saltzman suggests expanding work networks to be broader. Knowing more people will provide more opportunity to jump into leadership roles, she says.

3. Trying too hard to be interesting

Most people want their effort to be recognized, but perceived effort can be a dangerous thing. Often, those who try too hard can come off as self-centered or desperate to coworkers and executives.

Instead of trying too hard to be interesting, Saltzman says employees should become more curious at work and focus on being interested in what they’re doing. This, in turn, will make others more curious about who they are and what they do.

“My gig is curiosity,” she says. “I think most people get trapped into [these career killers] because they think they show up to work on time, they do a good job, they get their work done, they don’t make excuses, they don’t fall into the trap of these career killers. But they’re not curious enough to see beneath the curtain.”

Become curious about work by asking questions of coworkers about what they like about their job and what policies they would put into action. Figure out something unique about a coworker or uncommon commonalities between you.

4. Gravitating toward groupthink

​​​Getting caught up in groupthink may be one of the more difficult traps to avoid; it’s tough to be a single dissenting voice among a group of people saying, “Yes.”

Saltzman says that she often asks clients whether they’d rather be wrong in a crowd or right by themselves, and concedes that the answer isn’t always clear.

“Sometimes it’s a matter of picking your battles,” she says. “Sometimes you can’t be the contrarian that’s always poking. By the same token, sometimes you can’t be the silent one. But [you must] always be taking the pulse of the crowd [and figure out if it’s a battle worth fighting]. The stakes may be high, but you’re probably not ever going to differentiate yourself as a leader if that’s something you won’t do.”

Engaging in new ways of thinking and suggesting other coworkers do the same thing can go a long way toward eliminating groupthink in a work environment, Saltzman says.

“Just falling into anti- or pro-groupthink is dangerous. I’d suggest too much groupthink has a much greater downside than too little.”

Avoiding groupthink certainly does not mean avoiding working with others. Dana Glasgo, a career coach based in Cincinatti, says employees may want to find a good mentor internally to help them grow within the company.

“Networking is the key [to becoming a top employee],” she says.

5. Becoming too familiar with coworkers or bosses

Not knowing your coworkers and bosses well enough certainly isn’t good, but Saltzman says becoming too familiar can be even more of a career killer. Sharing too much or “knowing too much,” thereby becoming less curious, can lead to stagnation at work, she says.

Instead, she suggests finding the right balance between knowing and sharing. Be familiar with people, but not so familiar that things get dramatic or you become incurious about coworkers or work itself.

Becoming too familiar may also breed gossip, especially when in concert with cliques. Glasgo says employees need to have a positive attitude at work.

“You’re there to do a job, and that’s what they’re paying you to do,” she says. “Keeping that attitude right is important.”

6. Mental Sand Traps

“Mental sand traps,” or cognitive biases and mental shortcuts, are the most dangerous of the seven career killers, Saltzman says. Confirmation bias, for one, may cause someone to always believe they’re correct, even if they are not.

“That kind of belief system allows us to think that we’re doing the right thing and we miss cues in all of these career killers that might be illuminated if we weren’t caught in these mental sand traps,” she says. “From a practical, tactical standpoint, the first thing [to counteract this] is becoming really comfortable with being wrong. In the workplace, that’s hard. We’re not awarded for making mistakes and being wrong.”

Saltzman says people should practice being wrong outside of work when the stakes are not as high. This can be as simple as testing assumptions outside of work or taking up a new hobby.

“You realize [being wrong] doesn’t kill you,” she says. “Maybe you call it the beginner’s mindset​ or the mindset of not being an expert. You start seeing how that mindset is OK to bring to an area where you may need to be perceived as more of an expert, such as the workplace.”

7. Behavior bombs

No one likes being around someone who flies off the handle, easily gets angry or holds passive aggressive grudges. Saltzman says these are “behavior bombs,” something that may cause people to erupt when confronted with others’ selfish behavior, not being listened to or a perceived lack of fairness, among other issues.

To confront this issue, Saltzman says a simple solution is to figure out “what pisses you off,” your behavior bomb, so that you can recognize when it pops up among coworkers or bosses.

“Before you figure out your behavior bombs, figuring out what are the behavior bomb triggers and why [they happen], be really curious about it: Why do you think that’s an appropriate way to be?” she says. “Once you’ve identified that and you get really curious, you almost get so analytical that you don’t react to it thoughtlessly. You can chuckle at catching yourself before these trigger behavior bombs [take hold] because you can see nuance in things you thought were so absolute.”

Saltzman suggests elevating curiosity over criticism, judgment, fear and complacency as an ordering mechanism. This, she believes, can help stave off most of these career killers.

The post Career Killers and How to Avoid Them appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.