The Bel-fast and the… Not So Furious
Despite my misgivings with regard to the potential quality of the hockey on offer at Friday night’s meeting of the Belfast Giants and the Hull Stingrays, my spirits couldn’t be dampened: nothing ever takes the edge, for me, from walking into an ice rink just as a hockey game is about to start.
And the Giants know how to do entrances: the lights, the music, the drama. Nothing beats it. With the exception of one thing: when it’s actually your team. The merry band of travelling Vipers once again took their seats in the neutral zone, between the home faithful and a group of travelling Stingrays fans who were in fine voice from the word go. Was I jealous? You bet I was.
The game started out briskly but little of consequence occurred until around three and a half minutes in, when the Giants opened the scoring, short-handed, a breakaway effort resulting in a neat pass from Paul Deniset in the centre to right of goal, Rob Dowd able to slot home with ease. Hull wanted to make it a game of it though and had a chance or two or their own in the first period, a good effort from a sprawling Jason SIlverthorn probably the best to speak of, along with a decent shot from Sam McCluskey following a rare moment of poor defending from the Giants, and a solo effort from Dominic Osman providing a further gasp of frustration from the travelling fans.
The first period was fairly lively all around without a great deal of end product, however, in any area of the ice. Shots on goal were few and far between, and the atmosphere in the Odyssey was decidedly flat despite a sizeable crowd, the Hull fans providing the lion’s share of the noise. They finally had something to cheer about with 1:50 left on the clock, a tidy pass from Derek Campbell connecting with the stick of Andrew McKinney who finished the chance to level the scores. The 1-1 scoreline reflected the lack of real fizz on display in the first period, and it stayed that way into the period break thanks to a solid glove save from Hull netminder Christian Boucher from a Belfast powerplay.
The second period had a different flavour to it, and that flavour was distinctly Giant-y. It was all Belfast. They sieged the Stingrays’ goal for almost the entire 20 minutes, but with frustratingly little impact. Hull defended resolutely and kept the score level for nearly three quarters of the period, a sterling effort although at the expense of any attacking pressure, having just one shot on goal themselves all period. It was only a matter of time until the home side pressed home their advantage, although it took a lot more time than expected. Jeff Mason finally broke through Boucher’s defences from Mike Hoffman, who had been key in the steadily mounting pressure during the build-up to the goal. It was my first time seeing Hoffman back in action for the Giants since his last-gasp end of transfer window return to the club. His presence is as formidable as ever, perhaps more so this season, his size conspicuous amongst a fairly diminutive team, and his impact working as a forward more daunting to an opposing team than he ever was in defence. He was one of the Giants’ main impact players on the night.
I’m sorry. I’m not making this exciting for you at all, am I. You know I don’t want to be one of ‘those’ reporters. You know, the ones who just tell you stuff that happened. I want to entertain you, regale you with tales of breathtaking excitement, but sadly this particular game was lacking in well, any of that at all. It seemed my curse had returned. To add insult to injury there was a lengthy gap to the beginning of the third period as the officials tried to make the ice game-worthy once again, the temporary distraction of clouds of CO2 floating artistically across the ice more entertaining than the 20 minutes of hockey that followed.
Let’s be fair to Hull for a minute. They were a couple of imports short, young Brits bolstering their numbers, and only 13 skaters in their ranks, their top goal scorer not among them. But the Giants were nothing special either. They did just enough; no more. Come back Darryl Lloyd, all is forgiven. They sorely miss him, and so do I. Lloyd’s balls-out feisty attitude and physical play was what was glaringly absent from the Giants on Friday. There wasn’t a player willing to finish a check, and there was no bite to the game whatsoever. Even the cheerleaders were lacklustre, failing to provide a coordinated routine throughout the entire third period. Oops, sorry, I appear to have made the inevitable but disappointing switch from hockey writer to Strictly Come Dancing judge. I do apologise.
No matter, the GIants continued to exert pressure throughout the third period and with only one goal in it, all Hull would need to tie things up would be a lucky breakaway goal. But it wasn’t to be. The defensive pairing of Tom Dignard and Nick Kuiper effortlessly mopped up the minimal chances Hull had, and the tired Rays were forced to resort to taking long shots, without the legs to muster any decent build-up play. Mike Hoffman and Jeff Mason were the men of the night, adding two goals each in the final period, Mason abandoning his defensive post to become a forward for the night. The goals came thick and fast and Hull had no response; they were nowhere to be seen.
And that was that. Day one, game one, result within one goal of my prediction and the excitement non-existent as feared. Saturday’s game against Fife promised more. It at least promised Danny Stewart, who alone possesses the ability to niggle and shake up the Giants, and hopefully rouse the crowd from their slumber. It couldn’t be much worse. Could it? Check back to find out shortly.
