Rex’s Soapbox

When I was invited to write for Oilers Rig I was excited, but concerned about coming up with enough Oilers-centric content that wasn’t going to be covered by the legion of dedicated and talented writers in the Oilogosphere. I’m not talking about the notable luminaries like Lowetide or Jonathan Willis, but the host of others who regularly bring their unique and intriguing perspectives to the table like Matt Henderson, Oilers Nerd Alert, Darcy at Because Oilers, and so many others. These people do good work and are worth your attention, and that goes for anyone interested in hockey, not just the Oilers.

So I have anticipated struggling to find things to write on.

Then the other day I was out in my garage and found my old soapbox. I dusted it off, gave it a test and found that it could still support the weight of my massive ego – undoubtedly aided by the vacuous nature of my arguments. And that’s when I had an idea.

So here’s the first in what could become an ongoing series I may decide to christen My Soapbox Statements. I’d call them Angry Old Man Rants, but out of deference to Mr. Lowetide I’ll refrain from claiming that title.

*ahem*

I’m angry.

Not Donald Trump kind of angry, because that is ugly, hate-filled and unhinged, so let’s not go there.

What angers me is the state of the Oilers and how we got here and most importantly what that means about our past.

Here’s the thing, the Oilers have been poorly run, exceptionally so, for nearly ten years now.

Kevin Lowe made some really bad decisions, although some of that was due to the involvement of the ownership group at the time. All credit to the EIG for keeping a team in town. If not for them…I don’t even want to think about that kind of heartache.

But mistakes were made.

Then they hired Steve Tambellini.

Now Tambellini did some good things for the virtually defunct AHL system the team had in place at the time, but that and some very good contracts for Eberle, Hall and Nugent-Hopkins was about the limit of his victories and the defeats were many and varied.

It ranged from errors both of action and inaction and the result was that problems were essentially just kicked down the road for later.

And through all of it Kevin Lowe was seen by many to be standing overtop of the whole flaming mess pulling the odd string here or there.

So eventually Tambellini was unceremoniously shown the door and in walks Craig MacTavish with a press conference that is as cringe-worthy today as it was the day it was delivered. Maybe even more so.

Some of the arrogant verbal that was delivered that day spawned a host of memes and jokes.

We should have expected bad things would happen if Day One was any indication, but many of us didn’t, because we wanted to believe.

And here’s where I begin to get a little angry.

See, Craig MacTavish was a good coach who made a lot out of a roster of little on more nights than most. He very nearly brought a Stanley Cup to this town. He was roundly described as a smart man who has his heart in the right place, that is, working for the betterment of the Edmonton Oilers.

But the actions quickly spoke louder than his resume and press conferences and he was eventually buried under the weight of his own decisions.

I would argue that we reached Peak MacTavish in the dystopian absurdity of his proclaiming Justin Schultz as a future Norris trophy caliber player while similarly deriding Jeff Petry as somehow not being enough. Enough of what was never really explained, but whatever it was, Petry apparently was lacking. And so according to the management group of the day the Oilers’ paper thin defense corps could afford to send away a solid, 2nd pairing right handed defenseman.

It has been said elsewhere, and I honestly do believe, that this team was saved from making a really, really terrible mistake, the kind of mistake that can set back a team for a decade or longer (and we’re already at the decade mark, so just imagine that kind of hell) by Bob Nicholson stepping in and convincing Daryl Katz to replace MacTavish with Chiarelli and move Lowe to a position removed from Hockey Operations.

Now let me stop the story here for a moment to address something.

I don’t believe that Kevin Lowe, Daryl Katz, Craig MacTavish, Scott Howson or any of the people who have been involved in making roster decisions the past ten years had any malicious intent towards the team. Were they arrogant at times? Of course. Show me a manager who climbs to the upper echelon of any organization who doesn’t have a ribbon of arrogance running through them. It isn’t attractive, but it is, to some degree, a requirement for the job. But I do believe these men thought they were making the right call to bring a Stanley Cup to the city.

Were they incompetent? I’ve thrown around that word in heated moments, so perhaps I am as guilty as any of hyperbole, but truth is if we were going to eliminate NHL GMs based on a track record of incompetence there wouldn’t be enough bodies left to play a hand of bridge.

In Lowe and MacTavish’s cases specifically I honestly think that the struggles of the team have been very hard on them and the reasons why bring me to the point of this rant.

Kevin Lowe and Craig MacTavish literally bled for this team as players. They were two of my favourites during the dynasty years so you can imagine how much it hurts to see them make egregious decisions for the team you love.

Some of you may be too young to have watched the dynasty teams but let me tell you, those two were the kinds of players you would cheer like hell for and teams always wanted, even today. MacTavish was the ideal 3rd line center who could bury chances, fight the right fight, forecheck like a mule-brained dog on a bone and win more faceoffs than he lost by a fair margin.

Kevin Lowe was a great defender who deserves to have his name hanging from the rafters at Rexall, but it won’t ever happen because the fans only think of him as the GM and President. He was big and strong and talented and meaner than any other sonofabitch on the ice. I remember watching a game in the immediate post-Gretzky days where there was a scrum in front of the Oilers net. Some little punk was beaking off and trying to stick Ranford and facewashing one of the Oilers’ young forwards. He was grabbed around the shoulders from behind by an Oiler and he immediately turned to give the new guy some choice remarks when he saw it was Lowe.

He stopped. Immediately.

He shut the hell up and skated to his bench. He may have been half an idiot, but what brains he had left told him that was a fight he wasn’t going to win.

Lowe would outcompete almost anyone on the ice, and when the refs weren’t looking (although, let’s be honest, sometimes I think they were but they were as intimidated by old #4 as some of the players) he could eviscerate you with his stick and still get back in time to cover his man.

Those two were among the players who helped this team to dominate an entire decade of hockey. They belong in the constellation of Oiler greats every bit as much as the Ryan Smyths and Todd Marchants, and truth be told, I’d say even more so than either of them.

But they’ll never make it there. Because everybody hates them too much for their failed attempts to help – catastrophic failures, I’ll grant.

So now we are here, the final season of NHL hockey in Rexall place, Northlands Coliseum for many of us because corporate sponsors can’t buy the naming rights in my heart. And instead of sending the Grand Old Lady out with a bang, she’s going out with a goddamned whimper, amid frustration from fans, derision from the rest of the league and uncertainty over the summer.

So yeah, I’m angry. Angry because two good men who had their hearts in the right place screwed up royally and have, in all likelihood, irrevocably tarnished their reputations.

Angry because a great old barn is going to be sent out to pasture in ignominy.

Angry because today the rest of the league is casting aspersions about Oilers fans who are the most damned loyal group in the whole bloody league and cynical or snide people in other markets who circle like vultures when misfortune strikes someone else are going to confuse that loyalty with acceptance when it couldn’t be further from the truth. This fan base has been seething over the incompetence of ownership and past management but is smart enough and mature enough to separate their animosity towards management with the players on the ice.

So we cheer like hell for most of the roster, with equal love for Taylor Hall and Jordan Eberle and Matt Hendricks and Brandon Davidson. Because it isn’t their fault. Nor is it our fault. We love the game, love our team, and love our players (we do, really, because I doubt anyone boos Nikitin if he scores a goal).

I expect this summer we’ll see the back of Craig MacTavish, or at least a very clear partition of his role in the organization relative to hockey decisions.

Kevin Lowe has already been moved into a position that all but removes him from any on-ice product.

Northlands will never see an Oilers game beneath either of those men’s names and that is a shame.

All this saddens me and maybe it is because I’m of an age where I imagine I can see the fading light in the distance or I’m just the melancholy sort (I am). But remember what happens here to any of you who are younger. Remember that the old horses weren’t given a final parade down mainstreet in moth-eaten but still impressive dress uniforms.

And tomorrow, when the sun rises and new names bring a cheer from the crowd in a new building, the names of those old men should not be remembered solely for their failings, because like anyone who lives long enough, their story is complicated and maybe a person is lucky if they ever had mistakes that were as glorious as their triumphs.