Game On
By Steve Sirk, Columnist

That first blast of arctic air as one enters the seating bowl at Nationwide Arena? I’ve missed that. The Future Jackets skating in a pint-sized glob, aimlessly sweeping at the puck during the first intermission? I’ve missed that too. The ocular delight of the Pepsi Power Patrol? Uh, most definitely.

In the 17 months since I last set foot in Nationwide Arena, thanks to the NHL’s labor strife and the Season That Wasn’t, I had forgotten about a lot of things that I suddenly missed. But oddly enough, I retroactively missed them after being reacquainted with the game day experience.

The Columbus Blue Jackets defeated the Pittsburgh Penguins 3-2 in the shootout, but game itself was secondary to the fact that there was a game. It didn’t matter that Rick Nash was injured, or that the new-look, star-studded Penguins brought a roster resembling the old-look, dud-studded Penguins. With Mario Lemieux, Zigmund Palffy, and Sidney Crosby resting comfortably in the Second-Hand Hubcap Resale Capital of the World, Pittsburgh came to town with a dearth of Who’s-Who and a wealth of Who’s-That.

But it didn’t matter, because hockey was back, and I missed it.

I missed the slushy whoosh of the skates when the ice gets choppy. I missed lunging keep-ins at the blue line, and belly-flop whacks at the puck to clear the zone. I missed the ubiquitous hockey organ.

I missed the odd physics of players on ice skates, where one small change of direction causes elegant ripples and weaves of player movement all over the ice.

I missed the unmistakable DING! of the goalpost, when a goaltender’s best friend comes to the rescue.

I missed the woodpecker clack-clack-clack-clack-clack of the point man calling for a drop pass on the power play. Granted, it didn’t take long for me to get my fill of that. With the emphasis on calling a tighter game to promote free-flowing hockey, the referees raised their arms more often than deodorant pitchmen. As a result, the Jackets and Penguins combined for 26 power plays.

“Almost all of that was the referees,” said Jackets captain Luke Richardson, when asked if pre-season rustiness had anything to do with the number of penalties. “It’s going to take an adjustment period. It was just case of getting into a different mindset, where you have to think ‘skate first,’ because if you’re not skating when you make a grab, those are getting called every time. The refs were good though, because they let us ask questions and they explained every call. It’s an adjustment period for them too.”

I missed the tense drama of the 5-on-3, when a player receives the puck and holds it a tantalizing five feet off to the side of the goal, waiting…waiting….waiting to take the shot or make the perfect pass, while the crowd screams at him to do something, anything, SHOOOOOT dammit!

Hmm, I saw a lot of that too. The Pens were a woeful 1-for-10 on the power play, while the Jackets were an even way more woeful-er 1-for-16. (It was so bad I had to make up a new comparative adjective.)

“We had a lot of pretty passing,” said stud defenseman Adam Foote, aka The Biggest Free Agent Signing In Jackets History. “Since we only scored one (power play) goal, we probably could have used a few less passes. We need to get the puck to the net more often. It’s something we’ll work on.”

I missed the speed and grace of the perfectly executed counterattack goal. So thank you Todd Marchant and Brandon Sugden.

I missed the rattling boom of the Plexiglas after a big hit in the corner. So thank you Luke Richardson, times three.

I missed the how-the-heck-did-he-do-that moments when a skill player does something that I can’t figure out how the heck he did. So thank you Nikolai Zherdev.

I missed the frog-tongue flash of a goaltender’s glove. So thank you Marc Denis, Pascal Leclaire and Marc-Andre Fleury. (And maybe the entire province of Quebec while I am at it.)

I miss the brutal, villainous cheap shots that fire up the fans and players alike. So thank you Michel Ouellet, for being such a cretin on that barbarous boarding penalty that got you tossed from the game.

I missed Kerry Fraser’s hair helmet, the second-most famous haircut in hockey behind Barry Melrose’s mullet. So thanks for reffing, Kerry.

But I think one thing I won’t miss is the “old” NHL. I won’t miss the fact that the same six teams kept gobbling up all of the free agent talent, even if it was funny that the Rangers still couldn’t make the playoffs. While the NHL playoffs are the best in sports because determination can defeat dollars, it’s nice to know that mid-market and small-market teams now possess the means to get there.

I love the new offside and icing rules. While the elimination of the red line and the addition of the tag-up offside rule may not have produced wide-open 1980s hockey on Monday, they eliminated countless whistles, thus improving the flow of the game. (Or would have improved the flow of the game if there weren’t penalty calls every 90 seconds.) And the new icing rule, which prohibits the offending team from changing lines, cut down on the all-too-frequent practice of dumping the puck down the ice just to get some fresh legs—the equivalent of the fake injury in soccer. (It was funny to see the linesmen going through the Penguins bench like a police lineup, pointing at players and pulling them back on the ice after one third-period icing call.)

The limitations on sub-goal line stickhandling for the goaltenders, which confines them to a trapezoidal area directly behind the net, not only allowed for the latter half of the dump-and-chase, but it also made for some interesting plays. Off the opening face-off, Jackets goalie Marc Denis was forced to tiptoe the goal line to play a puck before it entered forbidden territory. And in the third period, Pens goalie Marc-Andre Fleury camped at the edge of the trapezoid, waiting for the puck to trickle inside, while a Jackets player rushed onward. It was a game of chicken, and Fleury eventually relented and went back to the goal crease. It will be interesting to see how these little decisions play out over the course of the season.

The new penalty rules will certainly make for sweaty palms on each and every night of nerve-jangling power play hockey.

My one gripe is the shootout, which is a farcical way to determine a winner. It took Major League Soccer four seasons to eliminate the contrivance from their league, but the NHL is now adopting it with open arms.

But that’s an argument for another day. Right now, puppy love reigns supreme.

Because I missed the post-whistle face-washes, the cat-and-mouse of face-offs, the homerun crack of a solid slap shot, the Don Cherry hockey song and that moment in every game where they put an opposing fan on the Jumbotron while Jim Carrey tells him that he is one pathetic loser.

I missed hockey.

And now it’s back.

Game on.