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A note from Will:
He Shoots, He Scores, He Respects the Ref
Will Ferguson
Two players go into the boards. It's a good clean check.
The glass rattles, the sound echoes through the arena. The
crowd is oddly silent. Then, as the two players separate,
the inconceivable happens: they bow.
Welcome to the world of Japanese ice hockey.
The semi-professional Japan Hockey League is about to
celebrate its 30th year, and with six full teams in competition,
Japan has more hockey teams than Canada has baseball teams.
In the 1994 World Hockey Championships, Japan came in fourth
in the second tier, and in 1998 Japan will host the Winter
Olympics.
After the Olympics, the Japan Hockey League is expected
to go professional, and Japanese scouts are already scanning
the Canadian junior ranks for potential foreign stars. Japan
has sent hockey delegations to Vancouver, Calgary, Edmonton
and Quebec City. They have imported Canadian coaches and
trainers as well, making hockey one of the few successful
Canadian imports to Japan not involving lumber or fish.
On the surface, Japanese hockey seems bent on mimicry.
Players' names are written in English, and several teams
have copied NHL uniforms right down to the colors and stripes.
The Oji Corporation Hockey Team wears an exact replica
of the familiar red-white-and-blue of the Montreal Canadiens:
all that is missing is the C in the centre. The Kokudo Company
Bunnies, reigning champions of the Japan Hockey League,
wear uniforms reminiscent of the old yellow-and-green uniforms
of the Los Angeles Kings (in their pre - Gretzky days).
But beyond these similarities to Canadian hockey, the
game is becoming something distinctly Japanese. Not only
do the players refrain from fighting, they also refuse to
go on strike. As in baseball, Japanese hockey teams are
named not for their cities, but for their corporate sponsors.
In Canada it would be like watching the Molson Canadiens
take on the Burns Hot Dog and Luncheon Meat Oilers.
In Japan, where large corporations are accorded the highest
respect, such blatant sponsorhip does not strike the fans
as distasteful, or even odd. The Nippon Paper Cranes, for
one, are run by the Nippon Paper Company. The name has nothing
to do with the art of paper folding.
For many years, the Japan Hockey League banned all foreign
players, but last year they opened the door to foreigners
"of Japanese descent only." Among the Canadian players who
arrived last year were a pair of brothers from Lethbridge,
Alberta: Joel and Michael Dyck.
The Brothers Dyck play defence for the Cranes. With a
family name like Dyck, they would appear to violate the
Japanese-only rule, but as Joel explains, their mother is
of Japanese descent. "Her maiden name is Oshiro."
Joel, 23, played hockey with the Mount Royal College Cougars
before getting a phone call from hockey coach Dave King
asking him if he was interested in playing overseas. It
was Joel's first time in Japan and he didn't speak the language.
The Cranes also have two Russian coaches on staff and they
have their own Russian-Japanese interpreter.
Communication can be difficult, says Joel, "but basically
it's still hockey. If you can show it on a chalkboard, you
can understand it." No French-speaking Canadians play in
Japan, so at least one linguistic tangle is avoided.
Michael, 26, arrived in Japan a few months after Joel.
Michael played hockey with the Regina Pats for three years
and then later, the Lethbridge Proghorns, but he retired
from the game in order to finish a degree in political science.
He was coaching amateur hockey and had recently married
when he heard from Joel that there was an opening with the
Cranes.
"It was a rapid transition," he says. Within a week, he
had left his old job, signed with the Cranes and was on
his way to Japan with his wife.
"In Canada, things are left more to the individual player's
initiative," says Michael. "In Japan, everybody trains together."
Practices are longer and harder than they are in Canada,
and the schedule can be gruelling. Players begin training
twice a day, months before the first game is played. The
Cranes are already hard at work preparing for the upcoming
season, which doesn't start until November.
Both Joel and Michael commend the Japanese players on
their conditioning and skating. But the Japanese players
are also more cautious than Canadians. Fewer risks are taken,
fewer hits and less clutch-and-grab, do-or-die hockey.
Fighting, a fine Canadian hockey tradition, is not tolerated
in Japanese hockey. Fair enough. But in Japan, even clean
checks are called if the referees consider them excessive
or too "enthusiastic." For players like Michael Dyck, this
can be a frustrating experience.
"Joel inherited the Japanese traits," jokes Michael. "Joel
is five foot nine and 180 pounds. I'm six foot four and
214 pounds. When I came over I was the biggest player in
the League."
A hard-hitting defenceman, Michael spent a lot of time
in the penalty box last season, often for plays that would
never have been called back in Canada.
To make matters worse, players are expected to show referees
respect. In Canada, linesmen and refs are much-abused figures
of authority, with everyone from the players to the fans
to the coaches openly questioning their calls.
Not so in Japan. "You have to control your temper when
you're over here," says Michael. "Even on a bad call, you
just nod and say nothing and go to the box. They won't hesitate
to call a 10-minute misconduct."
In amateur hockey, Japanese players will often reflexively
bow to referees or even to players they have just checked.
In the higher ranks of the JHL the game is faster and more
precise, but it is also a tighter, lower-scoring game. The
excitement level is definitely muted in Japan, which is
one of the reasons they added cheergirls to the roster.
Mini-skirts may not be the most sensible choice of clothing
in a hockey arena, but the cheergirls of the JHL -- complete
with pom - pons and choreographed moves -- are now an irreplaceable
part of Japanese hockey. Like the players, they are company
employees. "Go Oji Corporation Hockey Team! Go!"
The fans are more subdued as well. There are few of the
primal screams and cries of anguish that fill the Pacific
Coliseum on a Saturday night. Gone too is that other proud
Canadian tradition, the post-championship urban riot. In
short, the Japanese are attempting to tame ice hockey. The
beer-swilling, testosterone-driven anarchy that is Canadian
hockey has somehow been lost in translation.
"I think one of the things that Canadians can take pride
in is their intensity," says Michael.
"Canadians show up at game time ready to give 100 per
cent. Canadians rise to the game."
Or as a Japanese player noted, "the Canadians play to
win. We play not to lose."
And so, when all is said and done, do we as Canadians
have anything to fear? Will the Japanese ever conquer that
all-Canadian chaos we call ice hockey? Can they master a
sport that has been likened to playing chess at 200 miles
an hour? Can they learn to guzzle beer and get involved
in heated arguments concerning inane statistics?
Will Japan ever beat Canada at its own game?
"I think the Japanese may surprise a lot of people," says
Michael. "And in 10 years I think you are going to see some
very competitive hockey being played here in Japan."
Asked how would he feel if he were asked to compete against
Canada in the next Winter Olympics, Joel says: "I'm not
eligible to play for Japan. I would have to get Japanese
citizenship first. But if I had the opportunity to play
for Japan in the Olympics, I would."
Would he have mixed emotions, seeing the Canadian flag
go up across from him, in opposition? "I have ties to both,"
he says. "But I would do my best, whether I was playing
for Canada or Japan. I play to win."
Vancouver Sun
August 5, 1995
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