Cory Schneider Has Played His Way Out of Vancouver

In February of 2008, on the eve of the NHL trade deadline, Canucks GM Dave Nonis was in serious talks with the Tampa Bay Lightning for Brad Richards. Though the deal fell through, Darren Dreger later reported that Tampa Bay's asking price included at least one of Alex Edler, Ryan Kesler, or Luc Bourdon, as well as Cory Schneider. Canuck fans hungry for a superstar center (ironic, now) were disappointed when Richards went to Dallas instead. Fan outcry centered around the Canucks' unwillingness to trade Schneider, the goaltending prospect thought to be peaking in trade value.

As we enter 2011, the Canucks still retain the young goaltender, now as solid an NHL backup as there is. Incredibly, his trade value has only continued to rise, but by now, this shouldn't be a surprise: Cory Schneider's been driving his asking price skyward for years. Now he's playing his way out of Vancouver.

Anyone with an ounce of wisdom has always known that Schneider won't be usurping the Canucks' starting job from Roberto Luongo. It became less likely when Luongo was named captain of the team, and even less likely when Luongo inked a twelve-year extension. Though Schneider may have the potential to be a number one goalie, circumstance has long dictated that the opportunity awaits him in another city.

Since Luongo arrived in the summer of '06, impatient, pessimistic fans have clamored for the Schneider trade to happen right away, before the 2004 26th overall draft pick inevitably joined the Canucks' long line of 1st-round failures. By the time Schneider joined the Moose in 2007, he was full of promise and value, having won titles with the US World Junior program as well as Boston College. But the fans, unconvinced that Schneider wouldn't simply be the next highly-touted prospect to hit the wall in the minors, only demanded a trade before he could bust.

Instead, the Canucks held onto him, and Schneider's great success in the AHL only made him more valuable. After some concerning initial struggles, Schneider excelled. In 2009, he was named a starter at the AHL All-Star game, and finished the year by winning the AHL equivalent of the Vezina and the Jennings. By the early 2010, many felt he was the best goalie not playing in the NHL.

And still, the Canucks neglected to trade Schneider. Said GM Mike Gillis, "There is no pressure to make a trade."

The Canucks have a long history of highly-touted prospects who shine in the AHL, then dim considerably in the big-leagues, however, and fans remained skeptical. So, in the summer of 2010, as Cory's entry-level contract expired, they clamored, again, for Frecklesnoot to get flipped. Trade him, they said, before he puts in shaky performances as Luongo's backup like the guys that preceded him, and thusly becomes no more valuable than they. But, when Schneider inked a two-year deal, one-way deal for $900,000 a season, little did anyone know he was merely plotting another value spike.

Schneider has performed remarkably at the NHL level. In 8 starts, he boasts a GAA of 2.38 and a save percentage of .923. Perhaps most impressive, however, is the Canucks' record in these starts: they're 7-0-2 with Cory between the pipes.

And, while the Canucks are a very good team, Schneider has still carried them to a few wins. Two starts ago, he led Vancouver to a 4-1 victory over the Dallas Stars, stopping 44 shots and being named the game's first star. He looked big, and despite a relentless Dallas attack, he looked calm. In fact, Schneider has looked calm in all his starts, responding to fan unease over his potential collapse with casual excellence.

Yet again, Cory Schneider has proved the doubters wrong. It took guts to sign that contract and accept the backup role, knowing a shaky season behind Luongo could really delay his opportunity to be a number one. But he believed in himself, and he's earned the belief of teammates and fans.

Schneider now has little else to prove; he is clearly ready for a starting gig. Having overcome all questions about his future in the NHL, the only one that remains is where he'll end up.

With his play and his agreeable deal, Schneider has given the Canucks maximum flexibility in making the eventual trade, as his affordable contract allows nearly any team to fit him, cap-wise, and its two-year length affords the Canucks plenty of time wait for the right deal.

That said, they don't have forever. Schneider's time in blue and green will likely come to an end sometime between now and when his contract is set to expire. But, thanks to his incredible play, the Canucks couldn't be in a better position to trade him. For the first time, after years of refusing to give in to demand, the fans aren't the ones trying to pry Schneider out of Vancouver.

Now it's other teams.

Weird Sports, Vol 4: Shin Kicking

Pictured above: dumb people exercising their dumbness. Shin kicking is dumb.

Weird Sports is a semiregular feature I write for the Rec Services blog at Trinity Western University as a favour to a good friend of mine. It will appear on PITB on Thursdays (ish). Let us take a break from our Canuckness and appreciate that Canadians are a hockey-loving people, and not the sort that love dumb sports like this one.

In case I haven’t been clear as to how these weird sports are undeniable evidence that humanity is riding a bullet train straight into a river of pure, liquid stupidity, consider the unique sport of shin kicking. Yes, shin kicking is a very real organized sport in which two opponents square off, grasp shoulders, and then violently kick, or “clog” each other’s shins. I’m not kidding you. That’s all this is.

How do you win a shin kicking match? It’s quite simple. You kick an opponent so hard in the shins that he becomes unable to stand. Then you push him over. Now I’m no pacifist, and I enjoy a good fight (preferably of the hockey variety) as much as the next bloodthirsty psycho, but shin kicking seems, to me, to be unpleasant for all involved parties. Have you ever so much as hit your shin on a coffee table? It is the worst thing in the world. There is no greater pain, save perhaps when a cat bites the flap of skin between the thumb and the forefinger. My innate protectiveness of the shins is a large part of why I don’t play soccer (also a weird sport). Apparently, you’re allowed to wear thick socks–even stuff them with straw–if you’re a tad apprehensive about the idea of having your shins bashed in by someone’s shoe. Not that this helps–contestants are jerks, so they wear heavy boots, though you’ll be pleased to know that steel-toed boots were banned in the 1950s (before which time broken legs were commonplace).

But here’s the incredible thing: shin kicking was invented in 1636, which means it took a very long time for somebody to suggest that steel-toed boots took the fun out of it. Since steel-toed boots were invented around 1899, that means half a century went by before somebody went, “People probably don’t like it when somebody kicks them in the shins with a steel-toed boot FOR SPORT.” I personally feel this realization was unnecessarily delayed.

Yes, shin-kicking, or “Hacking”, as it is often called by those in the know, was invented in the 1630s in England. For some reason, it was often done in the nude. Tales of “hobnailed” or “clogged” competitors gushing blood were commonplace, and the sport was popular among the working class. Unsurprisingly, it was not popular among Puritans, the lovable, America-founding stick-in-the-muds who, as we all know, were against all pointless frivolity (except for witch-hunting).

In this case, they probably had a point. I think we can all agree that the good lord did not design our shins to be “clogged.”

One thing I often wonder about is how somebody trains for a weird sport like this. When it comes to shin kicking, it’s actually quite simple: contestants harden their shins by hitting them with coal hammers. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? What possesses a man to sit down in his spare time and hit his shins with a coal hammer? Why, the love of sport, and unfortunately, a lot of people love shin kicking. How many? Too many. More than enough to host a World Shin Kicking Championships, a popular annual event in Gloucester, in the southwest region of England. I imagine that's a gathering of unfiltered stupidity not unlike the locker room of a certain Alberta-based hockey team. Just sayin'.

Has anybody ever been to a shin kicking competition? Is it even half as stupid as it sounds? Because, to me, it sounds twice as stupid as it sounds. Let me know in the comments.