This is an extraordinary American summer weekend, insomuch as it delivers something rarer than an NHL goalie scoring a goal: the arrival in theaters of a great and compelling and culture-consuming domestic movie. I’m speaking of course of the new Batman movie, ‘The Dark Knight.’ It isn’t merely exceptionally well reviewed by critics, who are discussing it in terms of Oscars and “classic.” For its Uptown Theater debut Thursday night at midnight city youths arrived to stand in line some time near 2:00 that afternoon — in Washington July heat. It will be even hotter this weekend, and thousands more, already with tickets, will stand in line hours just to get the seats they want for the screening.
If you can imagine, the nationwide midnight screenings of the film Thursday grossed nearly $20 million. To put that number in terms we hockey fans can understand, that’s a Koules-Aid kind of July budget for free agency to assemble a lottery contender for next June.
Area theaters will have Batman screenings this weekend beginning at 9:00 a.m.! The notion of arriving at any area theater this weekend a few minutes before screening and securing just a single ticket is preposterous. By early yesterday afternoon Craigslist had pages of the movie’s tickets for sale priced solidly above regular box office rate.
Yesterday I found myself marveling at so novel a cultural moment, grateful for its very belated arrival but also melancholy when I considered that Hollywood needs more or less a full decade to render it. It’s true: approximately 99.7 percent of domestic cinematic fare is altogether ordinary or outright rotten. The true gotta-see-it — because of its greatness — cinema spectacle is in frequency of theater runs not dissimilar to the prevalence of Alexander Ovechkins in NHL entry drafts. Anyway, as Americans, we have a special place in our hearts for the buzz-generators on the big-screen that actually deliver the goods. So it’s a moment indeed to savor — history suggests that we won’t see it again for quite some time.
This special moment also led me to think of something special in hockey being crafted, right here in Washington. Like the great summer blockbuster, it’s exceptionally rare for hockey here. It could very well be the case that Verizon Center, beginning this October, will be akin to the great old moviehouse showing just a single feature, for months on end, with weekend tickets very much in demand.
I wouldn’t quite call the 2008-09 Capitals’ season a sequel, however. I think in its forecasted critical acclaim, in its culminating sense of a roster’s arriving very near the peak of elite contention, it will very much be a first run of its kind.
The differences from a summer ago are rather extraordinary. In July 2007 Washington hockey fans thought they had a gifted young star left wing in Alexander Ovechkin. But in his coming off a 46-goal campaign in his sophomore season, most here hoped he’d merely return to the 50-goal club in season three. Who then thought that he’d fairly obliterate competition for the Hart Trophy last season? Today he is regarded as a game-changing force, and the greatest player on the planet.
Additionally, last summer no one even in team management knew that a no. 1 stud of a defender was already in the organization, and poised to break out. But Mike Green will enter the 2008-09 season on a short list of Norris trophy candidates.
Count Brooks Laich as a key component to a glory run in 2008-09, and yet a summer ago he was in a fierce competition among a seeming glut of third and fourth-line center candidates just to make the club. Indeed, if any of the organization’s young centers was thought to have some unexpected offensive upside heading into last season, it was Boyd Gordon, who in ‘06-07 fell one point shy of 30 and flashed a penchant for fits and bursts of well-timed production. Now Laich’s regarded as one of the league’s bright young two-way pivots. And paid like it.
Last summer, who would have imagined that a hockey legend (Sergei Fedorov) would arrive here two-thirds of the way through the season and settle a green and nervous young roster and guide it to an against-all-odds Southeast division title? And then announce, mere weeks after his arrival here, that the atmosphere in Verizon Center ranked as the best he’d ever competed in, and that despite the formation of a very well funded super league in his home country of Russia, that he’d very much like a return engagement in Washington?
There are, indisputably, one or two important areas for Director Boudreau to address in final editing this summer, one of which (the acting in net) is largely out of his control. But given that all of the East’s well built teams for next season possess question marks of their own, it’s certain that the Caps will enter 2008-09 as consensus contenders in the East. They possess star quality principal actors, on-screen chemistry in abundance, and a director newly acknowledged by his peers to be among the best in the business.
Actually, insomuch as there looks to be high-achieving hockey rostered both in Washington and in Hershey this coming season, we appear slated for long run of a great double feature.

Likely Sergei Fedorov, in the initial hours and days after arriving in Washington late this past February, thinking ahead then to what was almost certainly his final game as a Capital on April 5, gave some thought to returning home to his native Russia and signing one last lucrative pro contract before hanging them up — or finishing the 2007-08 NHL as a rental Cap and retiring altogether. And who could have blamed him? He’s as decorated a star player as we’ve seen in the last quarter century: a six-time All-Star; a Hart Trophy winner; a Selke Trophy winner; thrice a Stanley Cup champion. What’s left to accomplish here?
The sentiment among virtually the entirety of HockeyWashington early this offseason is thus: get Feds resigned.
A bit more backfile before I lay my bombshell of a theory on you. I was able to arrive in the Verizon Center press lounge reasonably early in the 5:00 hour Tuesday. It was a zoo in there, as you might imagine. There were a lot of friendly faces and plenty of new arrivals as well. It being a game 7, I wanted to survey the pros — the men and women who get paid to work hockey as a beat, and especially the veteran ones who’ve worked these decisive games before — to try and gain a sense of how they thought this remarkable series would conclude.
The Capitals’ communications team Saturday morning passed along some eye-opening data for Brooks Laich, who didn’t have a two-goal game in his first 214 NHL games but has three in his last nine outings. Laich has 10 goals and 12 points in the Capitals’ last 12 games, and now ranks third on the team with 19 goals. He entered this season with just 15 goals in 151 career NHL games.
Was in the then MCI Center the night of March 13, 2001 — also deadline day — when earlier in the day GMGM dealt Zednik and Bulis and a pick to Montreal for Zubrus and Linden, and the mood in last night’s rink felt larger and more significant . . . that dealmaking carried a component of risk; this was pure aggression with minimal assets heading out . . . the better comparison may be with March 1997, carried out not in a single day but over the course of a couple of weeks, when McPhee, in his first season on the job, added Brian Belllows and Esa Tikkanen . . . Enjoyed most of all throughout the late Tuesday afternoon and evening messages from friends and strangers who were busy with business throughout the day and wholly unaware of the deadline day madness that enveloped the Caps, who arrived at the news late and lavished it (in my email inbox) with happy obscenities and exclamation points . . . Mike Vogel, looking terrifically telegenic, rinkside on Comcast in the 5:00 hour to help analyze the breaking big news, me comparing his polished appearance before TV DC with his pre-sunrise, blogging-through-the-Moscow-night, comrade shagginess with me during last year’s Worlds . . . big bonus: dinner with Ron Weber in the press room on such a big day . . . look at all the media big wigs who show up when hockey creates the day’s sports buzz: George Solomon of the Post, three Times’ reporters, the one-time
Thirty minutes before faceoff, the Isles’ blueline tonight apparently will consist of: Radek Martinek - Freddie Meyer; Marc-Andre Bergeron - Bryan Berard; and Aaron Johnson - Drew Fata (Rico relation, yes). Those very inexperienced final two may be partnered with more veteran blueliners, or Coach Ted Nolan may up to seriously limit their minutes and try and go with just two defense pairings as long as possible.
Using the Capitals’ generous season ticket exchange policy, I traded in five unused tickets for a block in my section (426) and then gave the tickets to five coworkers—two of whom had never attended a hockey game before.
We spent pregame at Bar Louie and discussed what they could expect on the ice. I warned them that not every game contained fights (much to their dismay) but that both teams are considered among the more exciting in the league.
Later, as we sat sipping Guinnesses (Guinni?) at the
It would be easy to pan the event on the basis of the inclimate conditions — visibility was generally poor for players, spectators, and home viewers; trainers and players dealt with a litany of equipment challenges; Zambonis were on the ice as frequently as fourth-liners; and league Ice Tech Dan Craig may as well have been in the game program as often as he was on the ice. But our sense is that the event’s overall atmosphere earned the game’s first star, and that the league scored an overtime game-winner with this idea and its general execution. The overall effect was one of a compelling Season’s Greeting showcasing sports’ most under appreciated athletes in their embrace of winter’s elements.
Speaking of MSM, WUSA’s Brett Haber has the title of Sports Director. He labors in Washington, D.C. It would be charitable to say that he is seldom seen in the press lounge of Verizon Center. It would be understandable by Washington MSM standards were he to have ignored hockey on his New Years Day evening sportscast and instead directed all his energy at the playoff-bound Redskins. That’s par for the course in these parts. Instead he man-loved Sir Sidney to no end, calling him the best player in hockey. We won’t call this an egregious offense but rather one of breathtaking tone deafness; in legitimate sports towns in which there is a lead athlete credibly creating dispute about such a point, the hometown athlete typically earns the decision.