Ordinary Least Square

Best Day Ever (Golf Category)

My best golf day ever did not start out well, at least not in theory. I was facing a three-hour round trip to my daughter Sophie's camp to see her perform in a one-act play. I was expecting her to have been unfairly cast in an insignificant role yet again, despite her undeniable acting talent. I was undecided and a little trepidatious about possibly stopping in to see my wife's cousins, who live near the camp.

And most of all, I was worried that I would be hit with stagefright on the golf course, as I usually am when I play with people I don't know and always am when I play with good golfers, even if I know them well.

The drive was the least of my worries, other than the prospect of wasting the time if everything else went south. French Woods, the famed performance arts camp where Sophie goes every summer, is not far from our summer house on Lake Naomi, not as the crow flies (or as the horse flies, as I often like to say, quoting the Marx Borthers).

But the second half of the trip is off-highway, a choice between the Syclla of congested two-lane highways like U.S. 6, where you're likely to get stuck behind a truck or a Sunday driver, and the Charybdis of remote country roads that are usually clear but can be slow going and difficult to navigate.

This particular summer, Sophie was attending two sessions, so I had already had to a) drop her off at the start, b) take her back after an off-campus trip in the middle of the first session, and c) go for visiting weekend after first session to see the final performances for that session (that was the first big disappointment, when Sophie got an almost invisible ensemble role in Candide while a couple of her friends got major parts, not to mention what a long, drawn-out bore the musical version of Candide is).

By this time, I had abandoned the obvious two-lane highway options and was traversing some back roads so obscure that parts of them were unpaved and their bridges were single-lane. One of my passions in life is finding the shortest, fastest routes to where I'm going, even routes that no sane driver would ever consider.

So once the main highway gave out, I went a few miles over the crest of the ridge on U.S. 6 to Wayfair and made a left onto the first of a itinerant string of country roads, past the windmills on top of the ridge I just crossed, through cow country. When the farms gave out and forest took over, I located a quick short cut on a dirt road to the next back road heading north through nowhere land.

Finally emerging back onto the main road, PA 191, but only for a second before turning right in Equinunk onto a barely paved road that barely allowed for two cars to pass each other, down to the Delaware River and a virtually unknown one-lane bridge across to Lordville, on the New York side. Over the railroad tracks, jog to the left and then to the right past the broken down old hotel, three miles up to NY 97 -- didn't have to deal with the dog this time.

The dog: Actually, I'm surprised this never happened before to me or to anyone else I know. But going up the Lordsville road through seriously remote backcountry, past a lone house, a dog -- part lab, part who knows what all -- comes running down to the road, barking at the car. But unlike the proverbial dog that chases cars, this one confronts the car head on, not letting it pass. It's amazing the dog hasn't been run over, but I guess everyone who drives by is like me, stopping rather than mowing it down. But how to get by? The dog wouldn't move. I tried backing up a bit, so the dog went back toward the house in triumph. But as soon as I started forward again, he came at me again.

So much for short cuts. Stopped dead by a dog. Hence the origin of the word dogged -- he would not give up. And no one in the house was coming out to call him off. Luckily, he got bored of the game after a couple of minutes, and I got to drive on.

A few more miles south on 97, and French Woods is on the right. But I wasn't going to drive three hours just to see a one-act play, no matter how much I love my daughter and how much I support her aspirations to perform. So I did something I always wanted to do but never got a chance to do before -- I turned left instead into the French Woods Golf Course, right across the street from the camp.

The play was at 7:30, but here I was at 1:00, ready to play golf. I normally golf at Timber Trails, the short cozy little nine-hole course at Lake Naomi, where I am a Gold Member. I and my buddies there have been going to full-size 18-hole courses more frequently as we improve and look for more of a challenge. Here was a chance for me to try out a new course and more more of a day of it, make the drive worthwhile.

The course looked good online. The owner and designer was a local businessman who had run afoul of my wife's cousins when they were the architects of a hotel he built in town and he screwed them in some way (the details are hazy). Despite that, if the course was of the same quality as the hotel, it should at worst be fairly decent.

No such luck. My first clue should have been when I called up to book a tee time and was told that they don't take them -- first come, first serve. My second clue was when I showed up at the course and got a free hot dog with my greens fee, which I ate in the rustic clubhouse with a bunch of guys who looked like lumberjacks. Alright, not the high class country club I expected.

My luck held out in one key area -- there was practically no one playing the course at that time, so I got to go out my myself. That's key for me because I just melt down completely when I have to play with other people I'm not comfortable with. Somewhere between lack of confidence in my lack of consistency and my attempts to show off, to show that I'm as good as they are, I just fall apart, at an ever worsening rate as the round goes on.

But in my own in the middle of August when my game was pretty much together? Piece of cake! I had been consistently shooting mid- to high-40s on the par 34 Timber Trails course, high-90s to low-100s on longer courses (with the occassional mulligan). My score was still high-90s (without a single mulligan). But that was only because, as is often the case the first time on a new course, I wasn't familiar with the greens.

On the first hole, for example, I approached the green with my second shot -- an unusual happenstance in and of itself, as I don't normally have the length to do that. I was just off the tiny postage stamp surface, which I typically can make up for with my deadeye chipping. But the green was slower than I expected -- slower even than the snail-paced Timber Trails greens. So I lost a stroke there for that reason alone, a recurring story on the front nine especially.

My biggest coup on the front nine was the course's signature hole, number 7. The rest of the layout is pretty flat. But on 7, you drive the cart up the side of a hill to the tee box. Great view -- I could even see the windmills on the ridge over Wayfair a good 30 miles away. I smashed my tee shot onto the fairway 75 feet below and got a good run thanks to the slope.

By the back nine, I started to experience something I had never felt before. My tee shots and my long fairway shots were taking off. Literally taking off. Seemingly accelerating as they flew farther down the fairway, driving up into the air rather than falling and dying. And hardly a hint of my killer slice. It was exhilirating, and it carried over into my play for the rest of the summer.

My run of pleasant surprises wasn't over yet. Because the club didn't take reservations, and because I was expecting it to be utilized at least to the point where I was in a twosome waiting on groups ahead of me, I went fairly early. Playing alone with no one ahead of me, the round went quickly, and I had a couple of hours to kill before going across the street to the camp for Sophie's one-act.

I hadn't planned on seeing my wife's cousins, but with all that time on my hands, I decided to drive into town and get dinner at the restaurant they owned. Susan and Lauren had taken a liking to me in recent years. We now stayed at their house during visiting days at French Woods, and always ate at the Bluestone Grill when we were in Hancock. They in turn stayed with us when they came to the City.

One such visit was to go to a wine show at the Park Avenue Armory to place an order for the restaurant. They invited me along, and I had an excellent time sampling the wares. They were able to get me wholesale prices on a couple of vintages that I really liked -- a Bordeaux and a Chianti, my favorite wines. On a more recent visit, we went to Spice Market, along with two other cousins, Michael and Bruce (who also live in Hancock, right across the lake from French Woods, in fact), and had a fabulous Asian tasting menu. It pays to eat with a fine chef.

I usually want to remain confined within my own solitary world during a solo trip like this. But I made the bold move of going to the Bluestone Grill this time around. I was rewarded when Michael and Bruce showed up for dinner, to celebrate Michael's birthday. So it turned into a party! I had to leave early to go to the one-act festival, but the unexpected birthday dinner was an excellent addition to a day that already included one of my best rounds of golf ever.

The one-act play did not disappoint either. It would have been nice for Sophie to get a bigger role, like the one given to Merce, her Tada! ensemble mate (she would kill me if characterized him as a friend). But as much talent as Sophie has, she is just not going to get any plum roles until she gets her weight down. In this case, she played a telephone operator.

That might not sound too good, except that this play was "Sorry, Wrong Number," best known as a classic film noir vehicle for Barbara Stanwyck. The original one-act play the movie was based on all takes place on the phone. So the operator gets into the act enough to make it a worthwhile supporting role.

Indeed, the whole experience beyond Sophie's performance was interesting. This was not a visiting day when the audience is mostly made up of parents. This was in the middle of a session. Parents are allowed to sign in to see their kids perform, but only a handful of others had shown up. Otherwise, the audience was made up of enthusiastic campers, hooting and cheering on their friends. Sophie had her share of supporters, which was heartwarming for a parent to see.

Afterwards, I spent some time talking with Sophie and one of her best friends Caitlin at the canteen. Again, I was one of only a few adults there, so it was for me an unexpected peek inside the camp when the kids were in total control -- and it was not a Heisenbergian experience where my very presence changed the way things went. As a matter of fact, at one point one girl passed out a few feet away from us and we helped her get back on her feet -- she was just overworked, or so she said.

Unexpected. That was the word of the day, my best golfing day ever. One of my best rounds ever -- certainly my best away from Timber Trails -- despite the final score of 97. Welcomed without hesitation into Michael's birthday celebration at the Bluestone. And a good showing by Sophie at the one-act festival that included a sneak peak into life at the camp when parents are not around.

If only the rest of my golfing experiences were that good.

Breaking 50

I broke 50 today at my nine-hole home course. Whoop-de-doo to you too, but for me it was huge. Never mind that I’d already broken 100 on two separate occasions playing two balls through for an 18-hole score -- I’d choked so often and so stunningly on the ninth hole over the past couple of weeks trying to best the half-century mark on our punitive little track that I was now on a mission from god to break 50.

Only over the past three or four weeks had I even started to come close to 50 on a regular basis at Timber Trails, our par 34, 2,600-yard course that is light years more challenging than those statistics would suggest. My good rounds were in the low 50s, my bad rounds no more than 55, so I had at long last achieved what beginning golfers strive so hard for -- namely, consistency (of a sort, since I’m still only starting to threaten the 50-100 level).

My big breakthrough came when I first played another course. I had played a couple of rounds on a nice public course in Vernon, New Jersey when I first started, when I still thought my slap shot automatically qualified me to hit golf balls and I hadn’t yet realized that not all swings were full swings. I played a tournament once in Foxwoods in Connecticut with a bunch of NHL players, a scramble in which I hardly ever took a shot that counted (Ken Morrow accounted for most of our shots, although I did come away with Bill Fairbairn calling me a good friend and Ed Van Impe inviting me to fish with him at his house on the coast of Vancouver Island). And I played three nine hole rounds at the 18-hole Rookery course near Marco Island when I went to Nick Faldo golf school last February and again in June to make up for the first session getting rained out halfway through.

But I never knew what I was doing any of those times. Otherwise, I’ve played a hundred rounds or so at Timber Trails at my country home in Lake Naomi in northeast Pennsylvania. What makes TTGC so vexing for players at all levels despite being such a short course is how small it is -- the fairways are so narrow that even marginally errant shots are in the woods, costing you at least a penalty stroke and often another stroke trying to recover, and the greens are so tiny that missing the pin by ten yards means a likely landing in the woods, the water, or a bunker, turning what would be a two-putt anywhere else into at least an up-and-down attempt, more often a chip or a wedge (maybe even after another penalty stroke to pull your ball out of the woods) and then your two-putt.

It was so bad that I started keeping track of the penalty strokes as I kept score so that I could better gauge how I might have done on a normal course, where many of those errant shots are hittable. And don’t get a TTGC member started on the sand, so packed down from all the rain that hitting out of a bunker is almost like hitting off the cart path.

Then we went to Jack Frost National. Jack Frost is a new course about ten miles away that boasts no parallel holes -- you can’t see any other hole from the hole you’re on. TTGC cut a deal with Jack Frost to give us an 18-hole alternative -- up to three rounds at $20 per round, including cart, the hope being that we would like it so much, we would sign up for a membership (fat chance of that -- gold members at TTGC already play Timber Trails for free for a modest add-on cost to our comprehensive Lake Naomi Club dues).

Unlike Timber Trails, Jack Frost is wide open -- the fairways at least twice the width, the greens around three to four times the square footage. Suddenly, tee shots that were in the swamp or the woods at TTGC were still playable, often still in the fairway, and approaches that were in the sand or the ferns or the leaves at TTGC were on the green -- 50-60 feet away perhaps, but still a two-putt on those lightning fast greens. And even though there are a ton of bunkers, the sand is soft and hittable -- on one par four, I hit three bunkers along the way and still shot a five because it was so easy to get out of them.

Sure, at 6,200 yards from the white tees (7,200 yards from the tips), Jack Frost was long, but even that was a boon to me, since I could drive every hole that wasn’t a par three and then hit fairway wood (my favorite club) to within a wedge of the green -- taking my troublesome long irons out of play. The severe uphill and downhill slopes, and the resultant side-hill lies, were something I wasn’t used to at the flat Timber Trails track, and it took me a few holes to adjust to the speed of the greens, but once I did, I shot 51 on the back nine, better by far than anything I had shot to date.

But none of that mattered as much as the psychological impact. I came back from my round at Jack Frost elated -- a feeling that was confirmed in two more trips there -- because now I knew that I was actually capable of hitting good tee shots and good approaches. The short game was never my problem -- of course, everyone can always improve in every area, so I always work on my short game, but that was not where I lost shots, it was where I always made up shots.

One of my golfing buddies here always brought up the shot allotment argument in favor of working on the short game -- 75% of your allotted shots are either getting onto the green or being on the green. Yes, I countered, except that it was always taking me three shots to get in that position rather than the allotted one, so I needed to concentrate on improving my ball striking.

Now all of a sudden it was made clear to me that my ball striking wasn’t really all that bad -- it was just that Timber Trails was unfairly punitive to people like me who couldn’t yet thread a needle on every single tee shot or fairway shot. The yoke was removed from my shoulders, the stress was relieved in an instant. And as is so often the case, that alone was enough to straighten out my shots back at Timber Trails. Not only do I rarely slice the ball out of bounds to the right or pull it into the woods on the left like I used to, I no longer beat myself up when a good shot ends up bad -- it's not my fault, I hit the ball well, it’s this damn postage stamp of a course that punishes me for a good shot.

Since that day, every score has been in the low- to mid-50s. The number of shots that end up out of play is down to a small handful. Likewise the number of lost balls and the number of penalty shots. And of course the length of my shots is up too now that I’m no longer bending them so badly.

But I still couldn’t break 50. I was getting better, so my opportunities to break 50 were getting better. Which meant that my meltdowns on nine were all the worse. The first time, I found myself on the ninth green needing a two-putt -- about ten to twelve feet uphill, with only a tiny break, to finish at 49. I don’t know what came over me -- I blasted it by the hole, I guess trying to power it straight in and take the break out. My eight foot downhill putt coming back caught the right lip, did a 180 onto the left lip, and hung nearly halfway over the cup -- where was Bill Murray when I needed him? 50.

The very next time out (this doesn’t count in the string of meltdowns), I was not having a good round, but one last good full swing from the fairway put me on the fringe at 48. I was about 25 feet away with a huge break, so I figured I didn’t have a chance. I missed the cup by about an inch -- 50 again. The groundskeepers tending to the greenside bunker behind me groaned at how close I came. One day later, on the same green needing two putts for 49, about twelve feet away, but downhill with a tricky break. Blasted it by again, missed the comebacker by three feet to blow my chance at breaking 50, and then pushed the three-footer wide in disgust to not even get 50.

But it wasn’t just what happened on the green. On the ninth tee, we had a bit of a wait. Dave, my usual playing partner, commented on how much we had both improved over the past year. He had started just last summer and has gotten even better than me, but he is a former Brooklyn homicide detective who is strapped, so once he got his full swing under control, he outdistanced me by a mile (and now that his putting is catching up to his ball striking, he’s scoring in the 40s regularly -- and when he learns how to chip and pitch properly he’s going to get even better).

Well, I made the mistake of responding by pointing out how much better we’d gotten at keeping the ball in play since we went to Jack Frost and stopped worrying about the dang woods at Timber Trails. For example, I said, I hadn’t hit a single ball out of play so far that entire round. And that left me in position to break 50 even if I doubled bogeyed. I also just jinxed myself, I pointed out. Sure enough, despite focusing as hard as I could -- perhaps because I focused as hard as I did -- I hit my tee shot into the woods. Penalty stroke, wasted shot recovering to where I should have been off the tee, and my approach shot left me needing a four-putt for 49, and I couldn’t even do that. Choke!

Can’t get any worse than that, right? Wrong! Next time out, I reached the ninth tee at twelve over -- exactly my target of an average of a bogey and a half per hole that would net me a 99 on a par 72 course. At par 34, all I needed was better than a snowman to break 50. I hadn’t been playing all that well, but I’d been scrambling like a maniac -- I skulled one shot that had to carry a creek that bounced on this side of the water, skipped off the surface, and ran right up to the fringe to put me that close to hitting the par five green in regulation. I hadn’t cost myself a single penalty stroke the entire round, and I was putting lights out.

This time I didn’t say anything to anyone to jinx myself. Instead, I just proceeded to put my tee shot into the woods. It was a good hit actually, the kind I no longer beat myself up about. It was a little left -- at Jack Frost, still in the fairway. But at TTGC, it took an extra skip to the left, hit the cart path, and went just a few feet into the ferns under the trees.

No problem, I thought -- I should be able to find it and still get the ball to the green with plenty of room to spare. Except that I couldn’t find it. Just a few feet off the fairway, and the ball was lost in the dense foliage -- penalty stroke. I was so upset I shanked my next shot right, which took me off line for the dogleg right, so I had to pitch up just to recover and was lying four with two hundred yards to go. No dice. I ended up with a 52 after blowing another shot.

And that’s still not the end of the story. Next time out, I was on fire. I was at just six over through five -- a par, two singles, and two doubles. An average of double bogey over the last four holes would get me 48, and the way I was hitting -- good tee shots, good approaches, good putts -- there was no way I was going to double every remaining hole, especially after striping my tee shot on the par five sixth. Even after a good lay-up hit a sprinkler head and bounced into the creek, even after I shanked my subsequent wedge, the penalty shot and the poor recovery pushing me to triple bogey, I felt that it was only one bad break and one bad shot, nothing that was going to stop me.

And sure enough, I played the next two holes well and reached the ninth tee at 11 over. This time, even a snowman would break 50. Well, the snowman choked again. I topped my tee shot and then shanked a four iron that cost me another stroke getting the ball back to the dogleg’s knee. Lying three with less than 175 yards -- still a piece of cake. This time, I caught the four iron pure and put the ball pin-high, 15 feet to the right of it. Problem is, this was Timber Trails, so 15 feet right, pin-high, meant I was in a bunker. And this bunker was like concrete. It took two swings to get out, and that still left me a chip and two putts. Do the math -- nine. 50. Again. This one really hurt because I had done so well on the first five holes, had had only one bad hole (due largely to bad luck) before I got to nine. Then I shot a nine on nine. Arggh!

Today didn’t seem like I’d ever get a chance. I was not hitting the ball well at all. Doubled the first, did OK with a four on the par three second, tripled three after hitting a tree with my tee shot and shanking the second into the woods for a penalty, doubled the par three fourth after a good tee shot went just ten yards off line into the ferns, and started off five with a slice into the swamp that I hadn’t done since I first went to Jack Frost and took that load off my mind.

But then things changed. I think a lot of it had to with one of my partners. Dave was playing great -- he ended up with a 43, which I believe was his best score ever (he claims to have shot a 40 once, but he didn’t know how to score penalty shots so I’d bet it was more like a 45 -- today, I kept score for him). But Kevin, a beginner who has only had a lesson or two, was struggling through the first four holes. He can hit the ball well when he hits it, so I told him to stop worrying about his swing and just concentrate on maintaining his posture -- if you hold your posture, I told him, the club will end up back where it was when you first addressed it, and you’ll get a good hit. He started doing it on four, even though his good tee shot ended up next to my good tee shot in the woods. He continued on five and throughout the rest of the round.

As he got into a decent rhythm, I was finally able to get into one. After taking a penalty for putting my tee shot into the swamp, I cranked a fairway wood over 200 yards to just off the front of the green. I ended up with a triple due to a bad wedge into the green, but on six -- the par five -- I hit back to back 200 yard shots to get me to the creek in two, something I’d never done before (I usually have to lay up my third shot in front of the creek or try to hit a long iron over it). I parred it, then got single bogeys on each of the next two holes even though my tee shots were both in the woods -- I was able to hit out without penalty on the par three seventh, and then I whacked another 200 yard fairway wood right onto the green after taking my penalty stroke on eight.

So there I was on the ninth tee again with a sub-50 round unexpectedly within my grasp. I needed a five to break 50, which is like par for me on a long par four like our ninth hole. I hit it over 200 yards off the tee right to the dogleg, lying one in the exact same spot I had lain three or four during my last two tries. I hit three iron the remaining 175 yards right onto the green -- in regulation. Suddenly, all I needed was a three-putt to reach my elusive goal. But I’d been there before, so I wasn’t counting any chickens this time. It was a long putt, but it was uphill with only a little bit of a break. I didn’t drain it, but I left myself a simple three-footer to not only break 50, but do it by more than just one stroke. I’d finished par-bogey-bogey-par on the last four holes to shoot 48.

Now if the psychology works like it did after my first round at Jack Frost, getting off this schneid should send me into the mid-40s in my upcoming rounds. Right?

Films Hitchcock Should've, Could've, and Shouldn't've Made

Ten Films Alfred Hitchcock Should Have Made
Maybe "could have made" would be more apropos for these ten films easily classified as Hitchcockian (only films made while Hitchcock was still active were considered, foreign films made in homage to Hitchcock were not considered).

Laura (1944)
Police detective Dana Andrews, investigating the murder of the title character, falls in love with her portrait. It’s not giving much away to say that Andrews has his world turned upside down when the murder victim (Gene Tierney) turns up alive. Vincent Price, Clifton Webb, and Judith Anderson, the prime suspects in her murder, are equally surprised. Otto Preminger's noirish murder mystery is a classic in its own right, but one cannot help but wonder what Hitchcock's devilish Cockney humor would have done for the finished product in place of what some characterize as Preminger's icy Teutonic detachment.

Gaslight (1944)
Rebecca meets Suspicion in George Cukor's classic about troubled heiress Ingrid Bergman marrying suave fortune hunter Charles Boyer. Returning to London to live in the old dark house of Bergman's youth in which a murder was committed, Boyer cold-bloodedly attempts to drive his fragile bride crazy. We get to see the effect from the point of view of the damsel in distress, one that remains in the popular lexicon, the “Gaslight Effect.” Joseph Cotten, a familiar face from Orson Welles’s ensemble and several Hitchcock films, eventually comes to the rescue.

The Spiral Staircase (1946)
Theater 80, a famous East Village revival house in the pre-video era, specialized in classic double features, cleverly pairing many of its shows thematically. Robert Siodmak's old dark house thriller The Spiral Staircase was always shown with Hitchcock's old dark house entry, Rebecca. Indeed, The Spiral Staircase was one of the projects David Selznick suggested to Hitchcock as a follow-up to Notorious. A serial killer is on the loose, with a thing for "afflicted" women. Dorothy Maguire, rendered mute by a past trauma, is the next target. And she's trapped in the old dark house in which she is employed as maid along with her bedridden employer Ethel Barrymore, two feuding brothers, and a pair of dimwitted servants. The title staircase ultimately enters into it, spiraling like the poster art for Hitchcock’s Vertigo.

The Stranger (1946)
Actually, Hitchcock did make this movie, or something uncannily similar, four years earlier under the title Shadow Of a Doubt. The hidden menace in this Orson Welles knock-off is an escaped Nazi war criminal (played by Welles himself) rather than Hitchcock’s psychopathic killer (Joseph Cotten), Loretta Young as Welles's wife matches the role of Cotten’s niece (Teresa Wright) in Shadow Of a Doubt, and Edward G. Robinson is the man who suspects and uncovers Welles's true identity, as Wright did to Cotten. Both films are set in small-town America, an innocent locale often used in post-war America to heighten the feeling of paranoia and suggest communist big-city subversion.

The Fallen Idol (1949)
Bobby Henrey plays the young son of the French ambassador in England, left home alone in the cavernous embassy for the weekend under the care of Baines (Ralph Richardson), the butler the boy idolizes, and Mrs. Baines (Michèle Morgan), the maid the boy fears and detests. When Mrs. Baines accidentally dies from a fall after an argument with her husband, the boy comes to believe that his hero murdered his evil wife. Director Carol Reed and writer Graham Greene concoct an entertaining film filled with enough humor, suspense, and weird camera angles to please any Hitchcock fan. And Mrs. Baines is right up there with Rebecca's Miss Danvers as the classic evil woman. The Third Man, another Reed-Greene collaboration starring Orson Welles, could also fit this category.

Night of the Hunter (1955)
Charles Laughton's only attempt at directing is an effectively creepy tale of two children left in the care of their evil stepfather (Robert Mitchum), an evangelical preacher who uses his position to deceive everyone the terrorized children turn to for help. He's after the money their mother hid before she died. The kids escape, but the relentlessly terrifying Mitchum stays on their trail. Though it doesn't resemble any specific Hitchcock film, this movie has an unmistakably Hitchcockian feel, from the black humor in Mitchum's sermons to the brooding after-dark rural landscapes the children must navigate. Laughton had a chance to learn from Hitchcock firsthand, having appeared in two of his films.

Cape Fear (1962)
Robert Mitchum again plays the relentless villain. Why didn't Hitchcock ever think of using him? Here, he plays an ex-con who comes back to get revenge against the prosecutor (Gregory Peck) who sent him up the river. Not content with simple violence, Mitchum insists on terrorizing Peck and his family first, anticipating a cinematic staple of later decades, the [fill in the blank] from hell. Peck's legal tricks and police connections cannot help him against the superbly devious psychopath. J. Lee Thompson, a frequent collaborator of Peck’s in the 1960s, was the unlikely director of this suspense classic, which was unfortunately remade poorly by Martin Scorsese in 1991.

Mirage (1965)
Most of Hitchcock's imitators adopted the genres of murder mystery and old dark house. Those who imitated his espionage thrillers did a better job of masking their, ahem, inspiration. Mirage is a little-known film of corporate and political espionage about a scientist (Gregory Peck again) who loses his memory during a Manhattan power blackout and then finds himself pursued by a variety of people he cannot remember who want something from him that he cannot remember. Director Edward Dmytryk clearly takes his cue from Hitchcock, starting with the Hitchcockian one-word title down through the double chase Hitchcock favored. More familiar Hitchcock-style espionage films from the 60's that could have fit this bill are Charade, in which Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn take on a shady gang of thugs on the trail of a rare postage stamp, and Paul Newman and Edward G. Robinson as nobel prize winners involved in political intrigue in Stockholm in The Prize (reminiscent of Hitchcock’s Torn Curtain).

Games (1967)
Simone Signoret, in a role that recalls her turn in the classic French suspense film Diabolique (itself a Hitchcockian exercise), plays a mysterious stranger who enters the lives of a rich New York couple (Katherine Ross and James Caan) who live in a house filled with strange and wonderful toys and games. The trio enter into a complex series of murderous games of deceptions in which the plot twists and turns so many times that it’s difficult to tell who is double-crossing whom. Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s and Anthony Shaffer's Sleuth takes the same concept a lot farther than this long-forgotten trifle, but that film was too stagy and came too late to fit in this category.

Wait Until Dark (1967)
It's hard to believe in retrospect that Alan Arkin could be such a menacing bad guy, but Audrey Hepburn is just perfect as the blind girl he menaces. Less subtle than Hitchcock, and with a MacGuffin that was not at all Hitchcockian (a heroin-filled doll), Wait Until Dark is still a classic exercise in Hitchcockian suspense, especially when the lights go out and Arkin is as blind as Hepburn. As frightening as this film is, imagine what Alfred could have done with that plot device.

Ten Films Alfred Hitchcock Should NOT Have Made
Some obvious mistakes (Hitchcock made so many films, they could not all be masterworks), but also some decent films that just don't fit into the overall Hitchcockian canon. Not considered are films from before 1934, the year The Man Who Knew Too Much established Hitchcock's international reputation.

The Secret Agent (1936)
A bland and dated espionage thriller about a trio of bickering English spies (John Gielgud, Peter Lorre, and Madeleine Carroll) who eliminate the wrong enemy, leaving the real spy (Robert Young) on the loose. Coming right after The Man Who Knew Too Much and The 39 Steps and just before Sabotage, Young and Innocent, and The Lady Vanishes, this was Hitchcock's one minor misstep during his most productive series of British films.

Jamaica Inn (1939)
Itching to come to Hollywood, Hitchcock half-heartedly completed his British contractual commitments by adapting a Daphne du Maurier novel (something he would do more successfully a year later in America with Rebecca). Though not as bad as some critics insist, Jamaica Inn would not be missed if dropped from a Hitchcock retrospective. A big part of the problem is that star and co-producer Charles Laughton insisted on playing the character of the villain, and since he was prominently featured, any suspense as to the identity of the bad guy was ceded almost from the start. The film was, however, a box-office success.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith (1941)
A screwball comedy in the style of the period, with Carole Lombard and Robert Montgomery playing an upscale couple still in love despite their divorce. Though not at all bad as far as screwball comedies go, Hitchcock made this as a favor to Lombard and because his preferred project was delayed by the war. What Hitchcock admitted was a directorial effort as a hired hand is as a result no more than an amusing aberration in his career.

The Paradine Case (1948)
Between the massive success of his wartime and post-war Hollywood films on the one hand (from Rebecca through Notorious) and his remarkable run in the 1950's from Strangers On a Train to Psycho, Hitchcock made four troublesome films. One of them, Rope, is a personal favorite, but some dismiss its experimental long takes as too gimmicky. There is little argument, however, about the other three. First came The Paradine Case, a stiff courtroom drama about an upstanding woman on trial for murdering her husband and the degradations that befall her during the trial. Mediocre by Hitchcock's standards, and mediocre in comparison to Billy Wilder's Witness For the Prosecution, a later film in which Charles Laughton virtually reprises his role as judge from The Paradine Case.

Under Capricorn (1949)
Hitchcock may have been a little to full of himself this time. Concentrating too much on technique (the long takes and color photography that he first used in Rope), relying too much on the reputation of star Ingrid Bergman, and reveling in his first return to England as a ballyhooed Hollywood director, he forgot to make a real movie. It is no surprise that some French critics say that this is Hitchcock's best film. Too bad Jerry Lewis wasn't in it, hein?

Stage Fright (1950)
Not a bad movie, certainly not on the order of The Paradine Case and Under Capricorn, this film nevertheless suffers from a failed experiment in narrative technique. The film starts with a flashback of star Richard Todd's involvement in a murder allegedly committed by co-star Marlene Dietrich. It turns out that this flashback is wholly untrue, and that Todd committed the murder and was trying to frame Dietrich. The idea of generating sympathy for a wrongly accused man who turns out to be guilty is satisfying, but tricking the audience by means of a false flashback is something even Hitchcock admittedly regretted doing.

The Wrong Man (1957)
A decent film, but it came at the wrong time, during Hitchcock's most productive period, following Rear Window, To Catch a Thief, The Trouble With Harry, and the remade The Man Who Knew Too Much, and followed by Vertigo, North By Northwest, Psycho, and The Birds. Henry Fonda's only appearance in a Hitchcock film is in the true story of a Brooklyn man wrongly accused of armed robbery but unable to prove himself innocent. What could Hitchcock have done at this point in his career with an actor like Fonda had he not been enamored of this real life subject matter that was more worthy of TV? We'll never know.

Psycho (1960)
Yikes! What is Psycho doing in this category? Hitchcock's best-known film, and to many his best film, a film he should NOT have made? Not really. But one can't help lamenting the unintended impact Psycho had on the horror genre. Too many filmmakers have been inspired by Psycho to make gratuitously gory horror films, mistakenly believing that it broke new ground for them in its graphic depiction of violence. Don’t they realize that Hitchcock never showed the knife touching Janet Leigh’s flesh? And don't they realize it's a comedy?

Marnie (1964)
Hitchcock loved working with Grace Kelly. He tried to lure her out of the retirement Prince Rainier imposed upon her to play the title character of Marnie. But when that fell through, he tried to force feed us his "new" Grace Kelly, Tippi Hedrin, the beleaguered star of The Birds. The resulting film is as static and stiff as Hedrin's acting. She was never really heard from again (unless you're a cult fan of The Harrad Experiment), and rightly so, and was surpassed by her daughter, Melanie Griffith.

Topaz (1969)
It's not clear why Hitchcock chose to make this film adaptation of Leon Uris's novel, nor why he stuck to it even though he was extremely unhappy with the project. Perhaps no one is too keen on finding out because it may mean having to watch the film again for clues. Undoubtedly one of Hitchcock's worst, if not the worst.

Ten Films Alfred Hitchcock Wanted to Make (But Didn't)
Almost all of Hitchcock's 53 feature films were adapted from existing sources (novels, plays, stories, etc.). Here are ten subjects he was known to have chosen as film projects, but which never made it to production.

Lawrence of Arabia (1935)
No, that's not a misprint. Nor is it really the same film that David Lean made nearly thirty years later. What Hitchcock actually had in mind was an adaptation of the novel Greenmantle by John Buchan, author of The 39 Steps, as a follow-up to the success of the latter. Greenmantle was a fictional story based on the character and exploits of T. E. Lawrence, the real-life title character of Lawrence of Arabia, with Richard Hannay, the main character in The 39 Steps, taking on the Lawrence role. Hitchcock wanted Cary Grant in the role of Lawrence/Hannay and Ingrid Bergman as Grant's co-star. But he couldn't afford to buy the rights to the novel.

A Night to Remember (1939)
Again, the film Hitchcock would have made would not have been an adaptation of the famous account of the sinking of the Titanic (filmed in the 50's). But when David O. Selznick first signed Hitchcock to a Hollywood contract, the film he wanted Hitchcock to make first was about the Titanic. Hitchcock, however, was still contractually bound to make Jamaica Inn for his English studio. By the time he arrived in Hollywood, Selznick changed his mind and wanted him to make Rebecca instead.

The Devil's Disciple (1941)
George Bernard Shaw's play was to have been Hitchcock's next project after Foreign Correspondent. But Shaw refused to release the film rights because it was a satire about America and England during the Revolutionary War, and he felt it inappropriate to have it filmed while America and England were allied in the fight against Nazi Germany. Hitchcock made Mr. and Mrs. Smith instead. The Devil's Disciple was eventually made in 1959 as a Burt Lancaster-Kirk Douglas collaboration.

Malice Aforethought (1945)
Suspicion was based on a novel by Francis Iles called Before the Fact. Hitchcock wanted to adapt another novel by the same author (a pseudonym for journalist and mystery writer Anthony Berkeley) titled Malice Aforethought, one of the first "inverted" mysteries, written in 1931, where the identity of the criminal is known from the start and we wonder if he'll get away with it rather than "whodunnit". But Hitchcock didn't think he could get a star actor (and he always preferred stars) to take on the central role of a doctor who murders his wife, so he never pursued the project. He had Alec Guinness lined up to pay the role, but Guinness did not begin to become famous until his first two major supporting roles a year later in David Lean's pair of Dickens adaptations, Great Expectations and Oliver Twist. Malice Aforethought was eventually made into a TV series by the BBC in 1979 and shown in the U.S. as an entry in PBS's Mystery series.

The Bramble Bush (1953)
One of Hitchcock's few attempts at writing his own screenplay was this adaptation of David Duncan's novel about a man who steals another man's passport without knowing that the passport owner is wanted for murder (the novel, originally titles The Bramble Bush, was released under the more lurid title Worse Than Murder when it was published as a pulp paperback). Being at a point of self-doubt in his creative powers, and unsatisfied with any of the pedestrian adaptations he commissioned from other writers, Hitchcock gave up the idea to instead film a proven Broadway hit that he got the rights to, Dial M For Murder.

The Wreck of the Mary Deare (1959)
Before making North By Northwest, Hitchcock started work on a film version of a 19th century sea legend about a ship, the Mary Celeste, that was discovered in full sail with nothing amiss -- except that there was no one aboard. Gary Cooper, who never appeared in a Hitchcock film, was slated to star (and did in the film version that was made by others). Hitchcock and collaborator Ernest Lehman gave up on the project because they saw too many obstacles to overcome in the story, not the least of which was a weak courtroom drama following a powerful beginning.

The Three Hostages (1965)
Another novel by John Buchan that Hitchcock considered adapting, featuring the same character that Robert Donat played in The 39 Steps on the trail of a group of Bolsheviks who have kidnapped three children of prominent English parents. Hitchcock dropped the idea because it involved hypnotism, which he didn't think would work on screen, even though he had already used hypnotism in Spellbound. One of three aborted projects Hitchcock worked on between the completion of Marnie and the start of Torn Curtain.

Mary Rose (1965)
Another of the three unsuccessful projects, a science fiction story right out of The Twilight Zone about time warps and ghosts and celestial visitations that was based on, of all things, a play by J.M. Barrie, best known for authoring Peter Pan. Hitchcock decided to postpone the project because he didn't like the idea of ghosts and never went back to it. The third project never got very far, never even being titled.

Frenzy (1967)
Of course, Hitchcock made a movie called Frenzy in 1972. That movie, based on the novel Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square, was released under the title of an original screenplay Hitchcock completed five years earlier. Like the actual Frenzy, that story was about a serial killer of women, but it follows the actual killer and police attempts to trap him rather than an unjustly accused innocent.

The Short Night (1980)
The project Hitchcock was pursuing at the time of his death in April 1980. Based on the memoirs of George Blake, the notorious English double agent who spied for the KGB, as well as on a fictional version of that same story. Hitchcock planned on altering the story, adding an American CIA agent (Walter Matthau), assigned to kill the fictional version of Blake. But he instead falls in love with the spy's wife (Catherine Deneuve). Shooting was all set to begin in Finland when Hitchcock fell ill.

Idle Rumors Are the Devil's Tools

There is someone on the web going by the pseudonym Eklund anonymously writing up rumors about the NHL lockout based on anonymous insider sources. He calls himself Eklund after Pelle Eklund, the Swedish player who played for his hometown team, the Flyers. He claims to be a freelance hockey writer who has written for NHL.com and THN, among other publications.

Judging by his defensiveness, he has come under some degree of criticism. Judging by his claims, he has achieved some degree of popularity. I ran across him quite accidentally while surfing for other lockout information.

I was curious, so I put him to the test. I went through all his posts, every last one of them, quite a bit since November. Though he qualifies it all as rumor, I was surprised to find that virtually nothing he has reported has come to pass. So little that in three months of posting, he has only written “as I said” or “as I predicted” a few times -- and he says it every time a prediction comes true.

Let’s take it day by day -- after these disclaimers:

All excerpts are condensed and telescoped to save space in a very very long article -- so much so the excerpts read like shorthand (sorry!). All are faithful to the original spirit -- compare to the original site. Don’t use these excerpts to test my take on what Eklund’s writing style suggests about his claim to be a journalist -- look at the original.

This is all way too long (and for once, I can say I really don’t have this much free time on my hands, but I did it anyway). Feel free at any point to skip to the bottom to read my conclusions (I jumped the gun on some conclusions -- after the entries for Jan 27, Jan 30, and Feb 3, near the bottom, if you’re interested.)

OK, here goes:

Nov 9: “There will be hockey this year. At the end of the month, a hard salary cap will be traded for slightly younger FA. The season will begin mid-January. ‘There is ZERO chance season will be cancelled,’ one player rep told me.”

No hockey this year, hard cap not accepted, season didn’t start in January, as of this moment (Feb 5) there is near zero chance of season not being canceled.

Nov 10: “Sources say Bettman will announce date a deal needs to be made by to salvage season. All agree date is around December 10.”

No drop dead date ever announced. Most observers agree NHL cannot announce drop dead date for fear of undermining potential impasse declaration. The rest believe drop dead date can only help PA pressure NHL, another reason to not declare one.

Nov 15: “Word out of Toronto is players will make a new proposal on Thursday or Friday that could include some sort of salary cap.”

Nov 18: “Agent Meeting -- two agents who attended said PA was preparing offer with cap included. ‘Players are demanding this of PA leadership, NHL is fully aware of this.’”

PA proposal came four weeks later, never included any sort of cap.

Nov 22: “a few teams considering mini tournament of their own this spring. Both sides said they wouldn't rule it out. Leak came out because Detroit had TV rights issues. Belief of players I talked to that all this will be moot, play will resume in January.”

Jury out on possible tournament. No report anywhere of TV issues in any context, despite being a likely lockout subject. Play did not resume in January.

Nov 28: “I talked to several players. A penguin said, ‘My agent put out word to get in shape by January 8th for start of camp. He said a deal is being brokered by high-ups including: Mario, Wayne, Bettman, and Neil (player rep). Deal will include cap.’”

No deal, certainly not one with cap. No camp. Denials by Gretzky and Lemieux about involvement. No clue who “Neil” is or what makes him “high-up” (only two Neils in the NHL -- Ottawa’s Chris Neil, not a player rep, and Neil Little, not the guy).

[Update: been pointed out to me "player rep" could mean "agent" and one, Neil Abbott, represents Jeremy Roenick et.al., could be considered high-powered, although no evidence agents involved in negotiations and difficult to imagine NHL allowing them to.]

Nov 30: “Players new proposal in hands of NHL today or tomorrow. One thing certain, as I've reported all along, will include cap disguised as luxury tax or two caps. PA prepared to accept cap of 40 million. Offering tax and roll-back of 7.5%. Goodenow will say, ‘NHL backed us into a corner on cap but we didn't have to give a rollback.’ Bettman will say, ‘We appreciate the PA understanding the need for a cap, decided they shouldn't pay for past mistakes by cutting salaries.’”

Proposal still ten days away. No cap, not disguised as tax, barely a luxury tax of any kind. Rollback threefold at 24%. PA yet to withdraw rollback, NHL yet to give it back (“accepted” it in recent proposal). PA rejected $42 million cap last week.

Further: “NHL is dangling concept of 4 on 4 full-time. Rule changes discussed directly with TV execs. Shoot-out is 99% here. Fighting, they hope to increase. Guaranteed contracts being discussed, likelihood they are gone doubtful, but look for more generous buy-outs and for them not to count against cap.”

Don’t know yet about new rules -- everyone expects shootouts, but four on four just wishful thinking. He got one right -- contract guarantees not killed, but are exactly as in the past, appear to be included under cap.

Dec 1: “Drop Dead Date. December 15 -- Bettman will announce, if he hasn't yet. I got word last night. Skeptics say he wants season cancelled, but those in the know say not.”

Still no drop dead date, still no reason for Bettman to commit to one.

Further: “Heavy negotiations in secret in Boston to work out ‘easy issues.’”

No confirmation, no reports anywhere in mainstream media of secret meeting -- other reporters would’ve gotten minor leak like this that reflects well on both sides.

Further: “Group of owners headed by Ed Snider skeptical of Bettman. Snider said he has contingency plan, even legal council [SIC] should Bettman cancel season.”

Larry Brooks reported Snider’s unhappiness around the same time despite Snider's later public show of support for Bettman. No mention of legal threats or other plans -- Brooks not shy of reporting these things, had part of this story, but not that part? No way.

Dec 3: “A guy in the know said [Linden and Lemieux] bridged a lot of gaps and figured out cap resolution. One person said, "Expect one side or the other [to] pull out at least once before it is done." One issue players are going to try and get is re-signing players and having cap stretched like NBA. NHL will probably give them that.”

Linden emerged as momentary hero in January by restarting talks. Lemieux yet to admit negotiating -- steadfastly maintains his position as owner and player excludes him. Not much newsworthy predicting pull-outs. NHL wants no players outside cap -- never any rumor beyond this on the subject.

Dec 6: “PA is going in with big salary reduction and luxury tax. Will settle for a cap with teams [re-]signing their own players, no salary reduction. Bettman will announce end to 45 day rule. All AHL rules will be part of this season.”

Right on big rollback and luxury tax, wrong on settling for cap with no rollback softened for re-signed players. No end to 45 day rule. AHL rules already widely expected to be adopted when NHL resumes.

Dec 10: “It was clear to players this was the proposal two days prior. On their website terms were stated Tuesday. Also stated they should act surprised and disappointed.”

Players should forget about NHL and go to Hollywood -- they’re good actors. Otherwise, no way to confirm -- no report in any other outlet despite reporters having access to players’ web site.

Further: “It isn't slightly surprising the [rollback] would be so high. NHL will come back saying, ‘We don't think it is right for players to take such a large cut. Such a system only hurts current players. We do however need cost certainty.’ Goodenow can tell his guys, ‘I had to accept cap, at least I cut pay cuts to 10%.’”

NHL never offered to rescind rollback -- accepted it in their last proposal. PA never traded back rollback for cap, are still negotiating off rollback proposal.

Dec 13: “I'm hearing owners are at war over this. One [faction] wants to accept offer with lower luxury tax, other [wants] solid cap. One clause will protect them [from] collusion suits [so] they can have a cap and not have it public.”

Reports of ownership split seen elsewhere. No mention of tacit no-collusion in any other outlet. Ever. Would be completely illegal, as Eklund believed. Whole point of negotiating cap instead of imposing one is to make it legal via consent. Simple points like this and drop dead date betray Eklund -- every reporter and most fans know it.

Further: “I talked to a lot of folks. Players will reject offer but ask for closed door meeting. A player from Flames spoke to me, vocal guy, he'll be quoted in next few days, thinks a cap is inevitable, that players will accept it in the end. He heard about cap of 50 million this year, 45 next, finally 40 million. No pay cut. He thinks guaranteed contracts will be thing of the past.”

Ference and Commodore spoke out in October -- no Flame since. No graded cap ever rumored anywhere. Pay cut still on table. Guaranteed contracts too.

Dec 14: “Word today NHL may have something up there [sic] sleeves. Don't be surprised if there isn't a hard cap in today's proposal. If it is a hard luxury tax. Don't be surprised if PA rejects offer and calls meeting to decide where to go.”

A most resounding “NOT!” No hard cap in NHL proposal? Luxury tax PA will turn down? All prior predictions of trading rollback for cap out the window with NHL proposing a cap plus rollback.

Further: A cap is about hope, so Calgary doesn't become like Stockholm where players like Jarome Iginla eventually leave to play for Rangers.”

Not a prediction, but impossible to pass: Under current system, Iginlas of the world stay put through their prime, go to Rangers only after going over the hill. Flames let Fleury go at right time, got Regehr. Good move. Let St. Louis and Giguere go. Bad moves. Rangers nowhere with Fleury and his ilk. Ducks reached finals with Jiggy, Tampa won Cup over Calgary with St. Louis.

Dec 18: “Spent late night out with three NHLers [et.al.]. Players angry about counter proposal. Agreed they would come back with proposal next week or so that would get it done. Said they hear proposal will accept cap but not roll-backs.”

No PA proposal since Dec 9, never an inkling of trading back rollback for cap -- PA still opposed to cap today, NHL still asking for rollback on top of cap.

Dec 23: “I spoke to a team rep. Going to counter around December 28, framed around NHL's last counter. Taking all pay reductions off table, instituting a cap at 50 million for two years, then 40 million for two years. Free agency at 27, a bigger cut of merchandising.”

No counter Dec 28, or any time, certainly not with cap. Rollback still on table. UFA still 30. Merchandising issue curious -- small revenue item, they already get a cut off the top, then at least 53-55% of the rest under cap. Not much left to gain. Media is next big thing -- that’s what they’d ask for, not merchandise.

Jan 4: “NHL is releasing threats of scabs next year. I talked to someone in the know who doubts they actually would do this. They want players to think they will. Tomorrow players meeting in Toronto. Asked reporters not to mention [it]. I am mentioning it since many of you don't believe me anyway! I will report on the meeting tomorrow afternoon.”

Scab threat plausible -- many believe NHL would not risk going to impasse and losing, but nothing to lose by threatening. More on PA meeting later.

Jan 5: “From Rob Simpson: Players will offer salaries take up 56% of revenues and will not call this a cap. League would argue to 54%. They need to agree on party to conduct audits. Season will start January 24; some teams already have minicamp in the works. Players buckling because they've lost $800 million already. If this drags into summer PA would likely be dissolved, keeping union together a motivating factor for players. Quoted Leafs exec who said, ‘It will get done.’”

Simpson sounds a lot like Eklund. Hmm. As full of it too. Players hate concept of league-wide cap more than team caps -- NHL’s 53-55% offer rejected. Audits agreed -- no brainer. Real battle will be what to audit (what is revenue?). Season didn’t start Jan 24, no mini-camps. Players haven’t buckled. Eklund betrays an ignorance of PA dissolution potential that professional journalists already know -- PA will dissolve (decertify) only as tactical move, a move not to be eschewed just to keep union together.

Jan 6: “ [Board of Governors] meeting cancelled to fuel emerging player revolt. NHL planned to cancel meeting when scheduled. Meeting was ploy all along.”

Ploy was widely speculated elsewhere, everywhere. Brooks reported from his sources that meeting was canceled to pre-empt owners’ revolt.

Further: “[On] PA forum on secret website, Goodenow getting destroyed by players saying they need to go back to work. Why [are] players publicly saying season is lost? Wouldn't a few players to say, ‘The numbers are close, I hope they can figure this out?’ They are coached to tell media season is a goner.”

Right, except wrong conclusion -- if that many players were opposed, more than a handful would’ve complained publicly.

Further: “The one telling sign owners are sure deal will be done is lack of drop-dead date. Odd there hasn't been one yet.”

Have to wonder about Eklund. Reason not odd -- widely reported that impasse case weakened if NHL sets drop-dead date and doesn’t negotiate in good faith. This is like a hockey expert wondering why ice the puck only to get a draw back in own zone.

Further: “PA absolutely working on new plan, everyone knows it. NFL model is one they are basing it on.”

Repeatedly and consistently wrong on both counts -- no new plan, never adopted NFL model.

Further: “I got in trouble for reporting on meeting in Toronto, so I can't discuss. I just got IM from people at meeting, thinks PA plan will save season.”

No PA plan, season not saved -- was there really a meeting?

Further: “Plans have begun to launch season immediately following Super Bowl. NHL may even buy Super Bowl advertising.”

Not happening. But that would be one funny ad, eh?

Jan 7: “I just received following e-mail. ‘Announcement stating the following about to occur: NHL is facing a dire moment. We are forced to cancel an entire season if the PA does not comply with our plan. We are giving the PA 72 hours to respond and return to the table for serious, round-the-clock talks.’”

Jan 9: “Ultimatum from NHL coming Monday. Three sources on this. We'll see."

Jan 10: “Ultimatum not yet released. Best I can tell PA cut it off at the pass by telling NHL they are going to invite NHL back to table in next day or so.”

No ultimatum ever released. Linden meeting wasn’t for another nine days.

Jan 11: “Owners of a dozen teams considering a court order that would allow them to welcome players back while arbitrator comes up with solution.”

Completely unsubstantiated, even more implausible. Brooks has numerous sources and reports on owner dissatisfaction -- gotta believe he’d have this and freely written about it if true.

Jan 12: “Ownership group threatening Bettman may be getting to him. He could ask for arbitration in next week or so to ‘save the game.’”

Bettman, arbitration? Never happened, never will.

Jan 14: “Daly officially invited PA back to table, PA said ‘they won't rule anything out.’”

Not reported anywhere. Wasn’t PA supposed to invite NHL to meeting? Linden did a few days later.

Jan 17: “Myriad of sources [say] lock-out is nearing end. According to one, ‘By end of this week.’ I've been told by someone high up in PA they expect basic outline by Thursday, announcement Sunday that players report back to camp in 7-10 days.”

None of this ever happened, never even rumored to be happening except here. If so many sources, why only Eklund hearing from them?

Further: “Terms of deal point to cap that increases each year, free agency at 27-28, franchise and transitional players, maybe a minor luxury tax system, players sign away rights to sue for collusion.”

None of this ever in any proposal from then on. Collusion clause still gives Eklund away -- why bother with a cap? Why doesn’t he understand this?

Jan 18: “I received several e-mails, following seems accurate. ‘Players held secret vote, majority in favor of cap. Player rep asked Goodenow why [no] vote on proposal. Goodenow [said] be a team player, they’d never allow vote [on] cap.”

Plausible, but no substantiation anywhere else. Gotta believe at some point some player or rep would take it public, even off the record.

Further: “Linden getting pressure to negotiate good deal before losing whole season and half of next year too. That's why he asked for meeting without Goodenow and Bettman. Players know if they don't get cap at $40 million now, owners in ‘06 will drop offer to $31 million and hard-line other issues. This deal done by Sunday.”

Plausible at the time, now discredited by PA rejecting $40 million cap last week.

Further: “As I reported December 3, Trevor and Mario refusing to let season die. Credit [Linden] is receiving a concerted effort to give fans a hero. ‘That hero needs to be a player,’ a friend told me.”

Implausible. Fans would welcome anyone as hero, no one would give that up in this dispute, least of all Bettman. Anyway, no hero yet.

Jan 20: “Three years for players, three years for owners. Both sides leaking same thing. I don't think Bettman is going to go for it. Bettman, one source said, ‘wants players to sleep on fact that cap is a possibility.’ Process has begun, settlement next week for certain.”

Both sides denied hybrid plan ever proffered. Certainly Bettman would not go for it. Why pretend just to put idea in players’ heads if NHL knew weeks ago, as Eklund leaked, they were ready to settle for cap if they had to. Settlement never came, that much is certain.

Further: “Sources saying, big money teams steering ship. Threatened legal action, possibly even split from NHL, form their own league. Since revenue sharing is big part of Bettman moving forward, big teams have a lot of power. That is reason for softening stance.’”

What softening stance? Brooks reported big money teams already whipped back in line by Bettman after earlier revolt. With his renegade owner sources, this would’ve found way into print. Revenue sharing comment odd -- Bettman and owners long opposed to it, wouldn’t be so adamant about cap if willing to share. Everyone knows this, why not Eklund?

Jan 21: “As I predicted, Bettman made it known split deal didn't work, unless there was anti-collusion clause [to] allow owners to put in cap through side agreement.”

As I predicted, sun made it known it was rising today. Eklund still doesn’t get anti-collusion clause. Why would players agree if they want split deal to delay cap for three years? Why would Bettman ask for it, instead of insist on cap, which he indeed has steadfastly done? This is credibility buster.

Further: “They worked out all the small things. Free agency at 27-28, lift salary restrictions on rookies if overall cap is agreed upon.”

Neither made it into NHL’s final proposal. Compromise on non-cap issues essential to get players to agree, so why rescind later in the process if you’re actually trying to get deal done?

Further: “One major chip is what makes up revenue. Source close to meetings: ‘Linden said, “OK, if I'm saying yes to cap, what are we going to say to players? We need something big back.” NHL came back with merchandising.’”

Defining revenues definitely on PA radar screen so this is highly plausible -- but Saskin said NHL won’t address it. Already discussed implausibility of making up revenue via merchandise.

Further: “Last thing said at meeting: Linden going to talk to player reps today, they'd all talk Saturday with goal of getting this done this week-end. Next time they get together they'll sign deal.”

Didn’t happen.

Further: “Source: ‘Players primed to accept cap. Overwhelming majority already have. Linden wants vote, Goodenow doesn't. Players trust Trevor no doubt. When meeting broke Trevor called Mario, talked long. Mario a key player.’”

Still no deal. Still no vote. Still no confirmation Lemieux involved -- rumored to be in Toronto, but reiterated conflict of interest as owner-player precluded participation. Lamoriello went instead.

Later that day: “From source: ‘PA made last ditch effort to get owners to crumble. Expect owners to do same, giving players long-awaited ultimatum. I’d be stunned if owners cancel season without telling players publicly it is up to them.’”

Still awaiting ultimatum. Still awaiting drop-dead date or cancellation.

Jan 22: “According to several sources PA holding poll on their website. 1. I am prepared to accept cap. 2. I am not prepared to accept cap. Word is ultimatum will come today or tomorrow giving final date, placing responsibility for season on players.”

Poll never discussed elsewhere despite reporters being privy to PA web site. Ultimatum never made public. Drop dead date -- beaten that dead horse.

Jan 24: “From a source. ‘NHL's new offer will include concessions. About loopholes. There will be a cap, but definition widened to include percentage of NHL properties, especially when player's name used. 1. One franchise player [would] not count against cap. 2. Next five highest paid can't make more than a combined number dependent on revenues. 3. After that no cap at all.”

Completely groundless except possible negotiations over NHL Properties. NHL made no new offer, was killed by loopholes in the last CBA, has never given any indication of a tiered cap, especially one that caps only five players, allowing others -- including highest paid -- to go uncapped. Only NHL deviation from team cap is individual cap on highest paid.

Further: “Poll results. Vote in favor of cap. But only slightly.”

Rare instance of recognizing bad information (“Overwhelming majority already have” accepted cap) on his own.

Jan 25: “One source said, ‘Goodenow put desperate message on web site, ‘I’m convinced owners are about to cave. It may take us canceling season, but rewards are there for the taking.’ That started furious groundswell among players demanding Goodenow step down. He’s said to be considering it.”

Other than handful of statements quickly retracted, absolutely no news or rumors elsewhere that vast majority anything other than solidly behind PA. Eklund has created illusion of chaos and turmoil at PA. Expensive gag rule can’t stop owners saying big markets unhappy with Bettman -- stands to reason more players would’ve leaked unhappiness more stridently, more persistently than trickle we’ve seen. Eklund’s rumor mongering appears baseless compared to mainstream news, some of which is anti-PA. If he emboldened NHL to take hard stance, he's done NHL, players, fans huge disservice, even if intent is as pure as he claims.

Jan 26: “coach told me emergency coaches meeting called to determine what [to] implement THIS season. One reason they are meeting may have to do with NBC saying they want more scoring.”

Highly plausible, but just as obvious. Can’t confirm until play resumes.

Later that day: “Report I just received. ‘Two sides will likely announce “Deal in Principle.”’”

Didn’t happen. Opposite happened -- “philosophical differences.”

Later that day: “Moving Along. That’s what source just told me. Some saying little progress being made. NHL fine tuning their cap that isn't being called a cap. The tiered system as it is known.”

Those saying “little progress” were right -- source wrong. No tiered system ever proposed.

Further: “From my source, ‘PA and NHL way too close for this to fall apart. They’ll meet again tomorrow or Friday. Word is they’re going to NY to bring specialist into talks. Lawyer to help come up with solutions to bridge small gap that remains. Goal to get Deal in Principle announced ASAP.’”

Fell apart. Parties met again next day -- everyone knew that, highly publicized. No word about specialists or attorneys. No deal in principle.

Jan 27: “just got word about new proposal from NHL. My source says, ‘This will absolutely be over by Saturday. Posturing is over. These talks are final talks. Immense pressure coming from big teams. Players are going to have hard time turning down offer. Word is they already know what it is, are holding vote on website as we speak. It won't go past weekend. Not a chance.’ Source said [same or different source?], ‘This is where we'll see what those inside have said all along. PA will accept cap and get on with this.’”

Never happened, not one bit. Over a week later, PA still adamant against cap. NHL proposal, when made public, showed no influence of big-team pressure, was exactly what cap hawks have demanded.

Further: “I don't buy leaks that NHL proposed no revenue sharing. Goes against everything they've said they wanted. Individual salary caps, I don't get it. If leaks are true then owners solely interested in destroying league.”

Eklund deluded himself with own rumors on individual caps (opposite of his last report) and own misconception that NHL wants revenue sharing (almost totally opposes it). Only at this late date does it dawn on him what everyone already knows of NHL’s true intent. Even here he overreacts -- NHL wants to destroy this season and PA, not league. Apparent ignorance of owners’ well-known distaste for revenue sharing betrays credibility of his claim to be reporter and credibility of sources.

Jan 28: “a very reliable source: ‘Playoff revenue sharing is what owners would like, [to] further reduce incentive to spend to win. [But] for cap to work - to be fair for both sides - meaningful revenue sharing is essential.’”

Glad his "very reliable source" finally helped him get it into his head what kind of revenue sharing owners really want, already well known to everyone else in mainstream. Source’s opinion on meaningful revenue sharing correct too, reflecting PA position.

Further: “I also received this. ‘PA ready to call sides back to table. Could happen as early as tonight. Players to ask for higher ceiling and no single player cap. But are resigned to cap. NHL made it clear there was room. NHL made great strides taking rollback off table last night. Going to be hard for PA to turn this down."

Ceiling did increase, but became floating ceiling tied to league cap that could also decrease team cap -- Eklund had nothing on league cap. Individual cap in NHL proposal still, rollback too -- no strides there. PA easily turned down offer.

Jan 29: “From my source. "PA called, discussions heated, but when all said and done, NHL people laughing and high five-ing.’”

Eklund claims NHL chastised him for publicizing random point in time taken out of context in organic process. That NHL still has no reason to high-five proves them right, him wrong.

Further: “I'm also getting word pressure on Bettman from big teams led by Philly, Detroit, Colorado, and Toronto more and more intense. If it goes past weekend expect to hear rumblings from big markets.”

Went past weekend -- no rumblings. On the contrary, Brooks, with pipeline to big market owners, criticized them harshly for acquiescing to cap hawks.

Jan 30: “I’ve been posting rumors for years over at Flyersphans.com. I’m preparing story about how this lock-out has affected you. I’ve received word from several papers that they will run it. In all likelihood trigger the end of Eklund Blog.”

Even re: himself, Eklund’s prognostications fail. Story never appeared, Eklund Blog continues to churn out rumors that never come to pass. Admission of being from fan web site explains a lot to me:

As editor, I personally handle dozens of stories from a dozen professional reporters plus half dozen “fan reporters.” No offense to the latter (I’m one of them -- I too write stories about fans), but pros are just that, pros, and have learned to write flawless prose (pardon the pun). Read Eklund’s blog -- far from flawless. Reads like someone from Flyersphans.com not from mainstream journalistic endeavors like THN or NHL.com.

Further: “a friend in PA says every time point is agreed NHL changes it. ‘They agreed to free agency at 27 weeks ago. NHL said, accept cap and no salary reduction. PA says OK, NHL says we need FA at 28. Players fuming. We question their intentions.’”

Plausible in theory. In reality, UFA age never publicly below 30, neither side rescinded rollback from 24%. This is why it's dangerous to post rumors out of context -- info may not be real, may be negotiating ploy, but is mistaken as real if not reported properly.

Further: “Plans are to start season on February 14 if possible. ‘PA is going back to talk to reps about something big.’”

What happened to right after Super Bowl? Eklund missed every single date he reported. PA took back same proposal they got ensuing week, both rejected. Nothing big, nothing new.

Jan 31: “I have it on a very reliable source that meetings will resume in New York. Bottom line ask yourself, why hasn't season been cancelled?”

Continued meetings already known, wholly expected. Still doesn’t get why NHL cannot cancel season, but has to let clock run out on it.

Further: “two agents said, ‘We haven't gotten calls in months, today ten calls regarding players. I asked GMs why now? They said they are told to prepare for quick start in conference call this afternoon."

If true, hard to believe it’s based on optimism rather than realism -- if NHL wasn’t going to sweeten proposal rejected days earlier, why believe PA would suddenly accept it?

Later that day: “From a source in NHL Office. ‘Owners, realizing players aren't getting info from their leadership, sent Brian Burke detailed e-mail explaining new deal. Told him indications are players will accept, asked him to go on air, be as “optimistic as you ever have been”. Getting close to announcing deal in principle.’”

Mistakes in naming show and radio station are small signs of sloppiness. Bigger indicator of weakness in Eklund’s info: big thing Burke leaked profit-sharing element -- info came from NHL, said the source, but he didn’t give Eklund main piece of info they leaked? Clearly, Eklund got this ex-post secondhand via FAN, not beforehand from any source.

Further: “Season slated to start March 1, 30 game sprint mostly against your division, several home and homes. AHL rules implemented on trial basis for regular season.”

Two week slippage in start date from day before? AHL rules widely expected. Intra-conference play a certainty -- intra-divisional? Has to be that way, no?

Also that day: “My story: editor going through it, awaiting approval, may be delayed a day.”

Or a week?

Feb 1: “Public denials, NHL not putting new deal on table. As I understand it they aren't lying.”

Formal proposal was on table within 24 hours.

Further: “They are denying leaks to Burke. I was sent e-mail, ‘Burke not aware of inside negotiations.’”

Eklund didn’t believe them, neither do I -- Burke knew about profit sharing.

Further: “painfully obvious players don't have any idea what’s going on. One Av player vented to me... He called PA, asked whether he should take job in Europe, they said, ‘We aren't at liberty to give advice at this time.’”

Plausible, given fluidity of ongoing negotiations, impossible to verify, possibly misinterpreting PA response (in mid-meeting, might not have known what to say).

Later that day: “Sides are meeting tomorrow, though they’ve been at it for last four days. Goodenow heading to NY. I was told only to sign deal.”

Sides well versed in 21st century technology, know how to use phones, E-mail, don’t have to meet in person at all times. No subterfuge -- they get together when necessary, use other modes in between. Goodenow did go to New York, but to negotiate, not rubber stamp.

Further: “I'm doing re-write [of my story] before it’s sent out. I'm personally not happy with it. I'm not hitting the point I want strongly enough.”

Wait, wasn’t it supposed to published already?

Feb 2: “NHL's new deal might be better than rumored. From source: ‘They leak specific deal, come to table with something more attractive. Saskin will take proposal back for vote to make NHL sweat. They already held vote. Tomorrow the day to look for something to happen.”

What happened? Deal rejected.

Further: “GMs telling players this is last deal, if they don't take it 1/3 will not have job next year. GMs quiet until this week, gag order on them lifted.”

Possible, but hard to verify -- rejecting offer, players willing to risk GM threat, despite otherwise unsubstantiated rumors of player insurrection.

Later that day: “PA's first reaction was absolute no, NHL made alterations involving Luxury Tax and Free Agency age. Team reps contacted, meeting again, very intensely. My source said, "If we are still meeting by 2 pm chances increase deal will be struck. If still meeting by 5 pm, it will get done.’”

What could NHL do with luxury tax? Unless they re-opened soft cap-hard cap hybrid, tax within 53-55% range laughable, hardly “major alteration”. UFA age evidently not enough to sway PA. Meeting ended by 5 PM (E-mail from PA re: Saskin con-call at 5:03) -- no deal.

Later that day: “This follows what I expected this morning. PA walks away, makes NHL sweat. Tomorrow will be the day as expected. Goodenow coming is huge. He’s a deadline guy, his job is to get this done.”

Stating the obvious -- nevertheless, NHL never broke a sweat and Goodenow didn’t get deal done.

Feb 3: “Rumor perhaps Goodenow will use cap to his advantage. A lawyer says NHL is going to lose. 'NHL has made huge mistake by putting a big stake in cap. Goodenow could accept cap if they agree to other terms. He could get serious perks from this.'”

I wrote same thing on BlueshirtBulletin.com same day in context of NHL’s impasse strategy, not in extracting perks. I was clear Goodenow would never use this tactic, and he didn’t.

Further: “I am finishing my rewrite, will submit for publication.”

Wasn’t it already accepted? We wait with bated breath.

Later that day: “Letter from team employee: ‘They finally used C word, told teams to prepare STH's (season ticket holders) about season being canceled. My bet 6-32 hours this is all over one way or the other. Time has run out.’ My guess in 6 hours it’s over. The longer they meet the better indication players accept cap. Puck is in players’ end.”

Met late into night and next day -- players still reject cap. Still not over -- both sides left door open for more talks.

This is why journalists have sourcing and substantiation requirements. Eklund is presented with clearly contradictory messages -- the front office (GMs) gearing up for signings, the back office preparing STH’s for cancellation. Real reporters investigate which story is true, what explains this apparent paradox. Publishing both without explanation is irresponsible lazy journalism. Hiding behind a cloak of anonymity and blind items is no excuse, it is even worse.

Eklund defends his blog by accusing the mainstream media of a huge conspiracy to present only negative news, even though media are clearly split pro-NHL vs. pro-PA and want to out-scoop each other, not compare notes to tell the same story. What he fails to see is mainstream media only go with information they can journalistically verify. That includes Brooks and Strachan.

There is good reason for persistent mainstream negativity -- reality. Not one rumor Eklund published in his self-proclaimed noble pursuit of optimism and open information has come true. Not one!

Later that day: “Bob explained to players he was going to New York to ‘make a deal. Saskin left me confident there is a deal to be made. I intend to not leave New York until we have agreement. I can reach this without a cap.’ Person I talked to said mood as ‘positive as I’ve seen it.’ Bob left saying, ‘Let's end this’.”

Sounds reasonable, though BG’s enduring belief he can end it without cap contradicts Eklund’s months-old reports players are resigned to one.

Further: “Despite Bettman's resolve, some question whether he will have guts to cancel season. Big market teams pushing hard, some middle level franchises starting to get edgy. Bettman has a lot of pressure.”

Still hasn’t budged, with owners reportedly back in line for weeks. If he didn’t have guts to cancel season, would’ve caved weeks ago under pressure from big markets. Cancellation remains non-issue.

Later that day: “I am told ‘major concessions made, neither side wants to release until all has played out.’ I have reports about concessions, but been told to keep it off blog. They don't want anything in the way of progress. I respect this in hopes they get season going.”

A sudden bout of conscience? No concessions in mainstream news as it the past, no progress made.

Feb 4: “I’m being asked by sources to not reveal much. Let's just say, they’re each giving a lot away, actually dealing. Only thing I can say is cap may be worked out. Pretty vague I know.”

Later that day: “From source in NHL, ‘We’re at halfway point of end game. Goodenow moved as far as he can, pretty far. Bettman said he needs approval from owners to move. Goodenow accused Bettman of staging that he couldn't deal without owners. Owners meeting tonight. Talks with PA could start tomorrow. Serious doubts whether Bettman prepared to pull trigger on season. Speculation was season would be cancelled prior to Super Bowl -- no indication [it] will be cancelled, signs point to deal being made.’”

Feb 5: “I spent last night talking to both sides, two are FINALLY in the dance. Deadline set. Feb 14. 30 game season March 1 being scripted. Concessions made, Goodenow saying ‘no progress’ is media play. A staged storming out.

"Here’s what I’ve heard. Players would accept 50 Million Cap, owners at 42. Way around this goes back to rumor posted here a while back. Franchise player exception. Difference between 42 and 50 could easily be 1 player. This will distribute superstars through the league. Big markets get big guys (NHL secretly doesn't mind).

"PA loves this because you don't swallow up 20% of cap to single player. NHL gets cost certainty, players know there will be money for third and fourth liners. Lower teams will compete. Balance will never get out of control again.

"This will get done. It was almost done, Bettman got nervous. He talked to owners last night. Call was only 25 minutes. I was told by someone in Flyers organization he feels ‘very confidant and relieved’ this morning."

Feb 6: “My sources say sides were in constant communication yesterday, plan to talk more today. Still not certain whether talks Monday in person. I can't release details, but I'm still in good mood. Enough said?"

Too much said, that’s the problem (a long unsourced opinion piece followed). In this case, too much is truly not enough, less would truly mean more -- if it was vetted properly.

The last three entries were posted over the last three days, too soon to say how they reflect the reality of a situation that remains under close wraps. Still little reason to believe that Eklund’s rumors can come true.

It doesn’t stand to reason that the NHL would agree to a de facto $50 million cap. Regardless of any euphemisms that might be used to pretend the cap was $42 million, truth is the hockey world is savvy enough to see the unconditional capitulation on Bettman’s part this would be -- no cost certainty, no ceiling on franchise player salaries, no linkage to percentage of league gross that is more the cornerstone of his philosophy than a hard cap and is more the source of PA intransigency than a hard cap. He’d have gone for three years-three years or a $35 million soft cap up to a $50 million hard cap before this -- this is worse.

Sherry Ross of the New York Daily News wrote on Feb 5 that “Sources said the talks included many alternatives and economic models by both sides, including a few not previously proposed, but with the NHL unwilling to budge much on its central point of a ceiling for a salary cap ($42 million).” One of those alternatives is all Eklund seems to have gotten (I won’t say made up -- let’s give him the benefit of the doubt, since there is not much benefit to it anyway). What about the others? What about the NHL “unwilling to budge” from a show-stopping ceiling with respect to the franchise player cap?

Even if we take Eklund at his word that he wants to counterbalance an overly negative mainstream media with positive news no one else wants to share with players or fans, he is still guilty of playing “Nearer My God to Thee” on the Titanic -- it is counterproductive to give passengers false hope about the fate of the sinking ship if it keeps them from getting to the life boats.

As a Ranger fan, I know all too well about that. It took seven years for the body of Ranger fandom to get past eternal optimism and realize the dire straits the franchise was in. It’s hard to criticize optimists, but realists were frantic with the lack of support for change. Only last year did the call ring out universally through Madison Square Garden -- too late to effect complete change, generating only a partial promise of a new direction.

Eklund, you are doing a disservice to the fans you think you are advocating for. You have not gotten one single major point right, and have gotten only a small handful of minor or obvious points right. In the process, you have created false hope among fans who should be clamoring for resolution, and worse, it appears possible you have emboldened one side to take a harder line by portraying the other side in an unflattering light that no other source has validated.

You call yourself a journalist, but you write and report more like a journalist wannabe, which opens you up to accusations of self-promotion. Behave like a real journalist and try to find some level of integrity in your sourcing and your substantiation if you want to start getting things right and doing a true service to your readership, not to mention your own ambitions.

[Financial contributions welcome -- all receipts guaranteed to be donated to that well known charity, The Human Fund]

One Year Later...

One year later, we're back at Lake Naomi for winter break. Some strange things have happened in the world at large, but this place has been a constant.

When I first wrote last New Year's, I really had no idea what winter had in store for us here. The two weeks leading up to the new year were unseasonably warm, so even though we walked onto the ice once or twice early on before it softened, and even though there was a smattering of snow that quickly disappeared, the real show took place on long weekends in January and February, after the northeast went into a deep freeze that felt to me like the coldest winter since my childhood. The lake froze twenty inches thick, according to the ice fishermen. "You could drive a truck across here," one said. The kids just loved the concept of being able to walk freely over the surface, after learning over the summers how hard it was to row or swim across.

We got some sleds and at first pulled them over the ice, but though they liked it, it was too hard for the adults. Then we discovered the tube run over by the clubhouse. Not much a run, not compared to snow tubing at ski resorts, but the club had lined it with bales of hay, strategically placed a couple of bumps in the middle of it, and the frozen lake allowed additional slide at the end of the run. Stella was a hoot, age three, bundled up in parka and polka dot hat with pom poms matting down her endless ringlets, her scarf gift-wrapping the whole ensemble, brazenly skimming down the slope, over the bumps, onto the ice, while kids twice her age quaked in their boots.

I got some excellent skating in when I could, no small task with snow covering the lake. One day, after the first snowfall, the wind blew most of the powder off the ice, leaving swirls that forced me to snake my way around them and through them. With a stick and a puck, it proved to be the best stickhandling practice I could imagine, by necessity watching out for snow patches rather than looking at the puck, and having to weave back and forth through them at the same time. Another time, after a larger snowfall, I shoveled out a small rink -- too small as it turned out, and retrieving the puck when I shot it out onto the snow was a pain, but again it proved to be great practice, having to control the puck in such a tight space while making tight turns.

Indoors was cozy with the fires I built. Sitting on the weird circular orange chair, vintage 1960s, by the picture window in the dining room was a great way to spend time -- looking through the bare trees out toward the lake, reading, curling up with Stella, watching the birds frequent the feeder that hung four inches from the other side of the pane (chickadees, junkos, cardinals, jays, finches, tufted titmouses, even a woodpecker).

For Ellen, this place is more about interiors than the outdoors, the deck being her favorite perch for observing the outside world. That and the car -- unlike New York, one has to drive everywhere, even to pick up a bottle of milk or a fat free French vanilla cappuccino at Wawa. And with movie theaters thirty to forty-five minutes away, video rentals must suffice. But we've found the perfect outlet for that -- we obsessively rent each season of 24 and Alias as they are released, watching as many consecutive episodes as we can from the edge of our seats, where they force us to sit with their relentless suspense.

This winter break has been more of the same, the deep freeze kicking in earlier than last year. The lake was frozen when we got here, the mercury having topped out at 12 that day and dropped well below zero that night. It softened up dramatically when the atmosphere warmed up and wrung an inch and a half of rain on us. But then it went right back down below freezing and has stayed there, so within days we were back out onto the ice (six inches, said the ice fishermen). Full moon at night out on the lake -- awesome!

Snow has dogged my skating, though. I tested the ice 36 hours after the rains -- it was black and glassy, but still too thin. At 48 hours, after dark, we were able to go out on it safely, and I knew it would be great skating the next morning. But two inches fell overnight. I still had a good time out there with the kids, but I couldn't skate. Then a brisk wind kicked in and like last year blew much of the snow away, leaving black ice feathered by white patches, perfect for stickhandling alone.

I had the kids out that morning, then they went off to the movies with Mom. Before skating, I chopped some wood and took it in, so that it would have time to reach room temperature before I fired it up. By the time I was done, it had started to snow again! Not much fell, but it was enough to lay a white sheen over the open areas of the ice. I managed to get an hour of skating and stickhandling in all the same, but it was tough pushing that thin layer of snow around with a stick and a puck, then the snow was too thick to continue.

One finds it hard to imagine summer during the middle of this kind of cold snap. Though I manage to spend a ton of time outdoors in the winter -- on the lake, chopping wood, taking out the dog we're taking care of for three weeks -- summertime is such a care-free time for going in and out, whether for boating or swimming, or just hanging out on the deck grilling or reading.

Last summer was a big summer for boating. First I got a pair of kayaks, a solo and a tandem (with a jump seat for young children). I figured I'd have to take Sophie out in the tandem (with Stella in the jump seat) while someone else used the solo. But Sophie decided during her first ride to instantly master the kayak. The pleasure of seeing a kid -- once afraid to try anything new or anything at all that required physical activity -- take so quickly to a new activity requiring physical acumen and stamina was enormous.

The day she mastered the kayak, I took her out at dusk, me alone in the tandem, her in the solo. I had discovered that sunset was the best time -- the water was still as glass, mirroring the trees and rhododendrons that line the shore, the sunsets were gorgeous, and the wildlife emerged. I discovered a beaver and tracked it across the lake to its feeding spot, so when I took Sophie out that evening we went right there and spotted it again. The dang critter took down three beautiful young birches that were growing at the end of one of our points, but still it was fun tracking it across the lake and around the islands.

Then I got me a sailboat -- a Hobie Bravo, the smallest catamaran they make, its double hull moulded out of a single piece of whatever synthetic material they use. I only tipped it over twice, and the second time wasn't even my fault (not totally). I can't say that I exactly mastered it, but I went out every chance I could and got the hang of it. The boats were a great way to entertain the parade of visitors we had. Sophie loved to show off her solo kayaking skills when her friends came up -- they had to ride with me while she paddled on her own. I was able to show off the sail boat -- and then had to hide my embarrassment when the wind died down and I couldn't figure out how to get it back in!

I made the mistake of trying to take up golf at the same time -- two new obsessive activities on top of all the old ones (I still went back to New York once or twice a week to play hockey all summer!). While the boat was always accessible, depending on wind conditions (not too much, not too little), golf was a problem -- as a beginner, I didn't want to just go out on the course, get thrown into a random foursome, and then force them to deal with me when they had innocently thought they would have themselves a nice golf outing. So I went to the driving range all summer to try to harness my slap shot into a golf shot, and was able to do it fairly well.

The time finally came when my sister and brother-in-law, golfers both, came to visit. I arranged a tee time at a time I knew there would be no fourth, and shot my first round of nine holes. Well, with all that practice I was able to drive the ball a fair distance, but what I hadn't taken into account was how many finesse shots would be required -- I swung through many shots and shot over the green by a mile. On the other hand, sand traps were a piece of cake, having to hit the sand two inches behind the ball -- exactly what you do when taking a slap shot in hockey.

I thought I was embarrassing myself out there, but they reminded me how badly they felt about the way they played, which for them was not the first time. One area I did not embarrass myself in was grilling. My salmon was already legendary, if I do say so myself (and I don't like salmon, so I don't even eat it myself!), and the prior summer I had (with the help of a book) finally perfected tuna and baked potatoes. This summer, I expanded my repertoire by learning at long last how to properly grill shrimp, grill veggies, and grill corn, plus I found a simple recipe for an awesome marmalade-mustard marinade that everyone went ga-ga over and which made soft white fish work on the grill for the first time (coincidentally, I first tried it on orange roughy).

Meanwhile, through all this, Stella, in the months leading up to her fourth birthday, continued her assault on the 2020 Olympic swim team, unbeknownst to her as of yet. She had already caused a stir at the Y all winter and spring by breaking the mold they adhere to in matching age and skill level. Now she was vexing the lifeguards at the Lake Naomi and Timber Trails pools by swimming up a storm for someone so small (she can swim all the way across the pool at the deep end, can jump off the diving board and swim in, and can sort of dive).

The in-between seasons proved to be an unexpected contrast. Spring, the season we all love so much in the city, is just mud season up here. It's still too cold to be outdoors all the time, outdoors is too wet and muddy anyway, and without the outdoors there isn't enough to do to keep the kids busy. Spring break, we found out, is the ideal time to go somewhere else on vacation.

Fall on the other hand, despite the shorter days and brisker weather, is a joy. The colors are amazing, being in an area that is really still a vast deciduous forest, despite all the development that has taken place. And it's dry, so as long as you keep yourself busy you can stay outside. My wife couldn't understand why I spent hours and hours one afternoon picking up dead wood in the back yard, loading it up in a wheelbarrow, and wheeling it into the garage. Sure, I needed kindling for the fire for the winter (I got caught short last winter), but mostly it was a way to keep busy and keep warm while staying outside on a gorgeous but just a bit too cool of a day. I've maitained that tactic even in the coldest of winter days by chopping wood.

Autumn also brought our second (now annual) Thanksgiving weekend, with the same group of twenty-four (twelve adults and their twelve kids -- it was actually twenty-five this year, one kid having brought a friend). Some people stay with us, some stay at a nearby hotel that has a pool, and between the two locales we party up a storm all weekend long. Among a group of friends that have often been contentious, the house and lake, whether it be over Thanksgiving or during the summer when many of the same people visit, have brought people closer together with their magical karma.

This year's winter break is almost over. As I write, we have one full day left. A visiting family has just left after a morning of horseback riding and an afternoon tubing at Camelback (there was not enough snow here at the clubhouse -- a shame, because tubing at Camelback was a rip-off and not worth the trouble). We will be going back to the city for New Year's this year, for a small party on the eve and a larger one the day after, rather than staying here.

Winter break at Lake Naomi has provided pleasant book-ends to an otherwise frustrating year -- an unconscionable election year in which homophobia won out over a devastating war, unabated terrorist threats, economic malaise, and possibly nascent fascism, andf in a small microcosmic way in the sport that I love, ice hockey, where greedy billionaire and near-billionaire owners have shut down the National Hockey League in a blatant money grab while making fans believe the players were stealing bread out of their starving babies' mouths.

Hopefully next year the time spent here will be more than a silver lining while waiting for the other shoe to drop, though at the moment there is no justification for that hope. Oh well -- if we correct the drainage problems in the basement, then along with the new furnace and new water filtration system we put in and the new dock going in next spring, at least our house will be in good working order, even if others aren't.