Can one little rule change make that much of a difference?
Well, if you look at the NHL playoffs, one single rule change drives the level of postseason play to a much, much higher level than that of the regular season. The rule is simple: Play 'til someone wins.
Throughout the regular season, games undecided after five minutes of overtime simply go to a shootout, a quick-paced result that feels in some way immensely unsatisfying. It's better than ties, but still the equivalent of soccer's awful penalty kick system or ending a basketball game with a short game of one-on-one.
Instead, the Stanley Cup playoffs feature full 20-minute overtime periods without commercials. This means no extended rest for the skaters or goalies. Both teams drag themselves onto the ice, shift after shift, players knowing that a small slip up or slight misplay might send them home worn down, minds full of disappointment.
Every sport experiences little tweaks when they shift into postseason play. In basketball, the games get slower and players can get away with more contact, which often leads to some very ugly games (see: San Antonio Spurs). Football suffers from a similar issue as defensive backs are allowed to manhandle receivers and high-powered, entertaining passing offenses like the 2007 Patriots are cut down from the playoff field.
The theory in baseball is that the playoffs are ruled by pitching (though the 2006 Cardinals and 2008 Phillies definitely work against that) and teams that can scratch out runs.
But the change in hockey is even bigger.
Hockey is such a lithe, moving game that comes down to such tiny moments and interactions. Series change on a puck hitting a pipe or a player tipping a shot just so it has unpredictable trajectory but not so it goes wide of the net.
See, unlike in football or baseball, hockey's sudden death is so much more sudden. In baseball the game-winning run is set up by having runners on base, and often by bunts to move runners over.
Football pretends to have sudden death, but unless a player absolutely breaks through from the opponent's defense, the tension dissipates as a kicker is sent out, warms up and finally attempts the kick.
On the ice that tension is ever present, since one quick play and one nice pass can send a whole team into shock, pondering how to rebound from a five-hour marathon defeat.
The aura of limitless overtime also builds the legend of impregnable goaltenders who can carry title teams on their backs. Local fans have seen two Badgers do this, as Brian Elliott blanked Cornell for three overtimes on the way to a national title in 2006 and Jessie Vetter did the same to Harvard a year later.
Sixteen NHL playoff games went to overtime last season, accounting for nearly 20 percent of postseason contests. Think about that. One in five games will end with the sudden snap of a stick, a rebound the goalie can't quite tip away or some other play that came oh so tantalizingly close to never happening.
All of a sudden, after hours of skating, checking and trying to get that little puck into the net, someone gets a stick on it, makes a move, the horn howls and, like that, it's done.
Any one else excited for the hockey playoffs? Talk to Ben about it at breiner@wisc.edu
