The Players Who Commit Headshots Are Not Evil

You had to know that it wouldn't be too long before Raffi Torres found himself in hot water over a headshot. Having watched him play all season, it's been clear to me that, while he tends to hit cleanly (and beautifully, at times), he also hits often (134 this season). This style of play is not without its risks. By this, I mean head hits like the one Torres laid on Jordan Eberle.

I'm not excusing it or arguing against the suspension handed down this afternoon. Torres deserved to be suspended for this hit because of what it was. This was a headshot. He did not, however, deserve to be demonized for it. Unfortunately, he was, and it wasn't fair. This was an accident. Most headshots are.

As long as there's hitting, headshots are unavoidable in the NHL. Make the punishment as stiff as you want--they'll still happen. They're a part of this game, not unlike hooking, tripping, high sticking and all the other infractions that are against the rules and still find ways to occur, usually by accident. And yet, we've somehow reduced this complicated issue down to an issue of bad people doing bad things. So often, we argue about the player's intent, as though he intended to concuss the victim when he took his first stride. Most of the time, intent has nothing to do with it. The player intended to make a hit. It just didn't go well.

Other NHL accidents are understood for what they are. Players get four-minute minors for cutting a guy's face with a high stick. There's no good time or strategic reason to take this penalty, and yet, somehow, we see double minors on the regular. That's because, no matter how disciplined these guys are with their sticks and no matter how stiff the consequences for getting them up, it still just happens sometimes. It's a fast game, and when a guy turns suddenly, your perfect position can become a dangerous one in a hurry. People understand this, except when it comes to headshots. Every one of those seems a clear-cut case of black-and-white villainy. We react to each ugly hit like the perpetrator was secretly the devil all along.

People act like every headshot is fully avoidable, like a shoulder making contact with the head is some sort of preplanned act of violence. We vilify these guys immediately, then turn our noses up at their brutality. You half expect a random search of the perpetrator's locker to turn up diagrams of the victim's skull with a bright red X exactly where the hit took place. We suddenly imagine the perpetrator twirling a moustache, making off with a princess, or petting an evil sidecat with a robotic arm.

Never, except for this sudden age of headshot hysteria, have these guys been so thoroughly psychoanalyzed: Did he mean to do it? Was his elbow tucked? In this freeze-frame, he's in the air. Did he leave his feet, or did the contact lift him off the ground? Are those horns I see under his helmet? Does reflection in the ice appear eerily goatlike to you?

The problem is that these are workplace accidents in a workplace we don't want to admit is flawed. If most headshots are mostly accidental, that would indicate the problem is with the game, not the players playing it. Nobody wants to admit that. The game is awesome right now. It's exciting. It's fast. So, rather than admit the game might have to undergo some unwanted changes to increase player safety, we demonize the players that continue to remind us of the inevitable. Effectively, we shoot the messenger. We've spent a year critizing NHLers for being unable to simply will headshots away. Maybe it's worth considering if the problem lies elswhere.

One comparison you often hear is the sweet and gentle NFL, where this same problem arose and was swiftly dealt with. People act like headshots can be legislated out of hockey the same way they've been somewhat mitigated in football, through tough disciplinary structures and, presumably, player buy-in.

This shows a full misunderstanding of the root of the NHL's headshot problem. It's not the same as the NFL's. Football is a completely different game. Most tackles aren't shoulder to shoulder. They're down lower, and adjusting to a ban on head hits is a much simpler proposition. There simply aren't as many reasons to be up that high on a guy in a game of football.

However, hockey hits are shoulder to shoulder and, in what's turned out to be a massive design flaw for hockey player anatomy, the shoulder is perilously close to the head. The sport is also twice as fast as football, and the players are usually extended, in full skating stride, and carrying enough momentum that an on-ice collision is like a small traffic accident. Going for a hit, even the slightest miscalculation or unwanted adjustment from either party--at breakneck speed, remember--means that an intended shoulder to shoulder contact becomes a gruesome accident.

It's a wonder there aren't more dangerous collisions.

So yes, let's suspend players for these hits. Let's make sure everyone is aware these hits are unwelcome in the NHL. But let's not psychoanalyze, and let's take some of the blame we're placing on the players, and place it on the game.

Factual Inaccuracies in "How The West Was One"

Local musician Kyprios has released a new song, "How The West Was One," a Canuck anthem just in time for the playoffs. It's a decent song, actually, with some slick production and decent flow. I like it. Though he drops fewer rhymes than the Bible's got psalms, Kyprios demonstrates a legit knowledge of the Canucks and proves himself a true fan. There are, however, some factual inaccuracies in the lyrics, which, as a super-famous Canuck blog co-writer, I feel obliged to correct, so as to avoid spreading fallacies amongst the Canuck fanbase.

40 years, 40 years
Won't be another one the champs are here

So far, so okay. With an appropriate amount of swagger, Kyprios asserts that after 40 years of no Stanley Cups, there won't be another one. This seems, perhaps, a bit brash: it implies, after all, that the Canucks will win the Stanley Cup every single season from now on. This is a bit too optimistic, though I understand the impetus behind such bravado. An alternate explanation might be that Kyprios expects either the world or the NHL to end after this season, which would be exceedingly pessimistic. Either interpretation paints Kyprios as a man prone to dangerous extremes in his beliefs.

Hank and Dank are in the building
They going in first like Barry Wilkins

Barry Wilkins is, of course, the defenseman who scored the first NHL goal in Vancouver Canucks history. He managed to score only four other goals that season, so here's hoping that the simile comparing the Sedins to Wilkins is grossly inaccurate. Quite frankly, it already is: the Sedins don't normally play the first shift of the game, so they are rarely "going in first." If he's referring to the offensive zone, it's generally Burrows' job to get in on the forecheck first. If Kyprios is referring to the powerplay, where the Sedins generally are first over the boards, he should have been more clear.

Hit first ask questions second
My man Tiger Williams taught me them lessons

While Tiger Williams certainly "hit first," asking questions was much further down his list of priorities, somewhere between "water the begonias" and "pick up drycleaning." Honestly, I'm not sure what kind of questions he might ask after laying out an opponent with a bodycheck: How's the weather down there? Have you read my cookbook? Orange you glad I didn't say banana? Recipients of his hits were not in the best frame of mind to answer questions in any case.

And we're destined, flyin' in the Western
We can beat you both ways like Ryan Kesler

Wait, is Kyprios admitting that he has physically assaulted Ryan Kesler? We can beat you both ways, just like we beat Ryan Kesler? Is he also saying that there are only two ways to beat someone? Judge Dredd would likely disagree with that. Of course, Kyprios is actually saying that the Canucks can win either by scoring goals or by preventing goals. That is factually inaccurate: the Canucks win by doing both at the same time.

Yessir, ya not even competitors
Listen up to Alex, and respect your Edlers

That's not inaccurate; that's just a terrible pun.

We got heroes, who beat you with pure play
We got Burrows, lookin' like Bure

The only way that Burrows looks like Bure is in regards to the first three letters of his name. At no point when they are on the ice do they look at all similar. They don't score goals in the same way, they don't skate the same way, and their facial features are entirely dissimilar. It is factually inaccurate to say that Burrows looks like Bure.

Fan my whole life, not a team quite this sick
Opposition goalies are the red light district

While I could quibble that it is extremely unlikely that Kyprios was a Canucks fan during his infancy, I won't. In fact, the rhyme of "quite this sick" with "light district" is solid, although Harrison feels Kyprios missed an attempt to sneak in a reference to "Bisquick".

Vancouver is a family
So we'll do it for Bourdon and we'll do it for Manny

Yeah, I can't argue with this one. Only one word appropriate for this couplet: werd.

Happy Anniversary
It's not the name on the back, rep the front of the jersey

Factual inaccuracy: the 40th Anniversary Jersey, which Kyprios is clearly referencing in this couplet, does not even have a name on the back. Thus, it would be impossible to play for the name on the back as it simply does not exist. QED.

Coach Vinny knows the Hammer gonna getcha,

This seems like something Mikael "Awkward Dad" Samuelsson might say to his kids while rough-housing: The Hammer's gonna getcha! It's gonna getcha! The part that is factually inaccurate, however, is that Alain Vigneault is not called "Coach Vinny." It makes him sound like an Italian-American mobster rather than a French-Canadian hockey coach. Vigneault is actually known as Monsieur Rondelle.

could be Keith Ballard or boom boom Bieksa

Kevin Bieksa's nickname is "Juice" not "Boom Boom." The only "Boom Boom" in hockey is Bernie "Boom Boom" Geoffrion, the supposed inventor of the slapshot. If Kyprios wanted to avoid the "Juice" appellation and go with a repetitious nickname of his own invention, I would suggest "Pinch Pinch" or "Slide Slide."

This is Kyprios, not Nick or Kiprusoff
Got me throwin' punches like pissin Rick Rypien off

Kyprios kindly clarifies that he is not Nick Kypreos, something @RealKyper_ never had the courtesy to do. Apparently confusing Kyprios with Nick Kypreos or, worse, Miikka Kiprusoff enrages Kyprios to the point of physical violence. Someone needs to notify him, however, that pissing Rick Rypien off leads to mild shirt tugs rather than punch-throwing.

Shootin' like Sammy, with Torres beside him

Kyprios shoots logos all over Vancouver. Any time you see a bullet hole in a logo, Kyprios put it there. Also, when Raffi Torres is next to him, Samuelsson hits logos with greater efficiency. There's nothing factually inaccurate about this, it just needed to be pointed out.

If they Called Raffi Cli, the boys couldn't find him

See, if you put "Cli" in front of Raffi's last name, it makes 12-year-old boys laugh. It doesn't, however, make Raffi more difficult to find, as the small campfire on his lower lip makes him stand out in a crowd no matter what prefix is added to his name. Factual inaccuracy.

Jokes, Laugh when I'm servin' ya
You know I love the Nucks like Pratt loves Ursula

In this, the darkest, most soul-searching part of the song, Kyprios admits to stalking the Vancouver Canucks, calling them at all hours of the night, and growling at them while wearing leather pants. It takes a lot of guts to admit you have a problem, Kyprios. I'm proud of you.

Great Dane, May Ray is the trickiest kid
Lap Dog, and Chris is getting Higgy with it

Jannik Hansen is from Denmark and he is pretty great. Placing his nickname so close to Mason Raymond's, however, only makes it seem like they are the same person. This is factually inaccurate. Also, no one calls Maxim Lapierre "Lap Dog" anymore, not since Steve Downie made that mistake. And while "Chris is getting Higgy with it" was one of the lamest things Dave Tomlinson has every said, I'm all for embracing it in true ironic hipster fashion. As long as it is said with full self-awareness that it is a lame thing to say, then it's awesome. That's how irony works, right?

Wild west, where you know how the song go
The Nucks are the number underneath of Luongo

No they are not. The Canucks are a hockey team composed of human beings with emotions, feeling, and stories. They are not numbers, they are free men! Reducing them to a number is just plain wrong. They're human beings, dammit! Treat them with some dignity!

I Watched This Game: Canucks at Oilers, April 5, 2011

Canucks 0 - 2 Oilers

After watching the awful game on Saturday between these two teams, I was initially pleased that Harrison was on IWTG duty for that game and I was responsible for this game. Surely the Canucks would put together a better effort. Surely they wouldn't lose to the Oilers two games in a row. Surely they would buckle down, straighten up, put their hand to the plow and nose to the grindstone, swing into action and and take the bull by the horns. Instead, like Buffy Summers (seen above), the Canucks were just going through the motions all game long. However, as our Twitter followers pointed out, when Buffy was going through the motions, she still won. The Canucks did not. And while I wish I had instead watched "Once More, With Feeling" again, I watched this game.

• Through 10 minutes, the Canucks had 1 shot on goal, putting them on pace for 6. It was an ugly, ugly opening to this game. The rest of the game wasn't much better, as they never sustained any significant offensive and pressure and never truly challenged Dubnyk. Actually, I'm not quite sure who was out there in the Canucks uniforms, but they certainly bore very little resemblance to the Canucks that I have watched all season long. I suspect Mike Gillis sought out 20 fanatical Canuck fans amongst the various adult rec leagues in BC, had them undergo radical plastic surgery to turn them into Canuck doppelgangers, and had them replace the real Canucks as soon as they wrapped up the Presidents' Trophy. The real Canucks are busy training underwater like Team Evil from Shaolin Soccer.

• Seriously, though, there's no reason to be concerned. The Canucks are, unsurprisingly, playing like a team with nothing to play for. While it would certainly be nice to see them continue to dominate the opposition in these final games before the playoffs, it's not surprising to see them play with such little urgency. The only thing they're concerned about at this point is avoiding injuries. Despite playing shorthanded for over 11 minutes, only one forward--Ryan Kesler--blocked a shot on the penalty kill.
  

• Alain Vigneault kept his promise of getting Schneider into enough games to qualify for the Jennings Trophy, if the Canucks can hang onto it. With the game essentially over, we got 28 Seconds of Schneider, which, coincidentally, is also the name of my Electro-Pop side project.

• On a positive note this picture of Linus Omark with the Sedins is absolutely incredible. The company that made the Sedins' tracksuits is still in business; Bruce Boudreau is their biggest customer.

• Despite the Canucks best efforts to phone this game in, it was abundantly clear that they were indeed the better, more skilled team. They just weren't the hardest working team. The Oilers' first period goal with just seconds remaining was pure luck, deflecting off Ryan Jones' skate on the powerplay. They needed a 4 minute 5-on-3 to beat Luongo again. They seemed to be pretty excited about barely defeating a barely-there Canucks team, but considering they have very little to be excited about in Edmonton right now, I'll guess we'll let them savor this for a bit.

• Noticing how the Canucks were phoning in this game, the refs decided to do the same. It was a poorly managed game from start to finish, as they waited too long to call coincidental minors on one of the many post-whistle scrums, one of the many reasons the game got out of hand and ugly. The other reason was that the Oilers somehow didn't end up shorthanded until the start of the third period. Meanwhile, the Sedins got tripped, hooked, and mugged. Daniel and Henrik discovered after the game that their loonies and toonies were stolen.

• The worst non-call, however, came while the Canucks were killing off the 5-on-3 powerplay: Mason Raymond used his speed to get the puck deep and was attempting to kill time along the boards. His effort was cut short when he was slammed face first into the boards directly from behind. Nothing. No call. Gutless. I couldn't find video of it anywhere: instead, enjoy this blatant tackle of Ryan Kesler by Theo Peckham favorably labeled in the NHL video highlights as a "hit." Anyone notice how the arm and hand that Peckham wrapped around Kesler was nowhere near his own stick? The referees didn't.

• Vancouver's normal course of action when a team is taking liberties physically is to punish them with goals on the powerplay. With the referees so reticent to put the Canucks on the powerplay, they eventually took matters into their own hands, taking some unnecessary and flagrant penalties. The double crosscheck that, in combination with the Torres major, destroyed any hope of a comeback by the comatose Canucks, was almost as blatant as Derek Smalls' foil-wrapped cucumber.

• I admit: my frustration with the reffing initially clouded my vision on the Raffi Torres hit on Jordan Eberle. After some time to unwind and watch the replays, it's a clear blindside hit to the head. While Torres definitely had his elbow tucked in and wasn't aiming for the head (in fact making contact with his elbow on Eberle's shoulder first), the principle point of contact was the head. Torres will likely face a suspension, though I don't expect anything more than two games considering his clean history with the league and that Eberle immediately popped to his feet, played on the following powerplay, and is evidently completely uninjured.

• The ice at Rexall is shamefully bad. The puck bounced all over the place, a severe handicap for a smooth-passing team like the Canucks. Ryan Kesler seemed to struggle the most, frequently losing the handle while carrying the puck, resulting in 3 recorded giveaways, a game high. Considering he now has only 19 recorded giveaways over the entire season, that's significant. He also whiffed actively prevented the puck going in on a wide open net during the Canucks first powerplay. Let's just say that it wasn't his best game, but he did lead the Canucks in shorthanded time on ice, won 11-of-18 faceoffs, and broke the glass behind Devan Dubnyk in the first period...with his wristshot. I've said it before, I'll say it again: the NHL should introduce a hardest wristshot competition at the All Star Game.

• Aaron Rome appears to be incapable of passing the puck. It has become infuriating: he is very capable of making the simple play - the bank off the glass out of the zone, the dump-in from the blue line, the soft wrist shot from the point into the goalies pads - but seems unable to make higher-level plays than that. While there is certainly a place for a player like Aaron Rome, it's not in the top-four of a Stanley Cup favorite. Fortunately, with Alex Edler and Andrew Alberts practicing with the team and Dan Hamhuis skating again on his own, Rome might not even be on the ice to start the playoffs.

• I'm honestly trying to think of some positive things to say: I suppose Ehrhoff and Bieksa were okay. Luongo made some nice saves. Unless Raymond received a stealth concussion from bashing his face on the boards, they escaped the game without injuries. Higgins still appears capable of playing hockey in a competent manner. Ugh. I'm praising competence. This was a bad game. Let's just all forget it happened, bite our lips through the final two games of the regular season, and try to survive until the start of the playoffs.

From the What If Files: Aaron Rome's Empty-Net Goal

On March 29, in the dying seconds of a road game versus the Nashville Predators, Canucks' defenseman Aaron Rome scored his first goal as a Canuck. It was a 200-foot empty-netter, but that didn't make it any less special for Vancouver, who celebrated the rare occurrence (it was Rome's 100th game with the team) by mobbing him like he'd scored an overtime winner.

This touching moment almost didn't happen. As the puck drifted towards the goal line, Henrik Sedin quit skating and stuck his arms out, so as to prevent anybody from spoiling the moment. In that instant, any number of shocking things could have gone awry. Below, PITB has imagined three very plausible scenarios, with adorable artist's renderings by the fabulously talented Chloe Ezra.

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SCENARIO 1

Henrik skates like wildfire, catching up to the puck eight inches from the goal line. He changes its trajectory by one degree, earning credit for the goal. Then, before a stunned arena, he tears the C off his jersey, flashes the double guns Shane O'Brien style, and skates off, chanting "Henrik! Henrik!"

Artist's Rendering

SCENARIO 2

Shea Weber gains ground in a hurry. Determined to preserve Rome's special moment and paranoid that Weber is about to thwart it, Henrik tackles the Nashville defender, rugby-style.

Artist's Rendering

SCENARIO 3

No one touches the puck, but it catches a little mound of snow and misses the net. As it slides into the corner, Henrik retrieves it, then makes a no-look backhand saucer pass to Daniel, who pots the insurance goal. The visiting Vancouver fans chant "MVP! MVP!" Forgotten, Aaron Rome skates to the bench unnoticed. After the game, he finds a quiet place and journals.

Artist's Rendering

Quotes Taken Out of Context: Staios Edition

"If Ethan’s mom was coming back from injury, I think he’d take a run at her."

- Steve Staios, April 2, 2011

Cory Schneider Needs to Play Two More Games

The William M. Jennings Trophy is awarded annually to the goalies for the team that allows the fewest goals against. The Vancouver Canucks have allowed 181 goals this season, three fewer than the Boston Bruins, who have four games remaining to the Canucks three. If the Canucks can avoid ugly performances like Saturday's flop, there's a good chance that the Canucks goalies will take home the prize.

Or rather, Roberto Luongo will take home the prize.

In order to be eligible for the Jennings Trophy, a goalie needs to have played a minimum of 25 games. While Vigneault has made good on the promise to rest Luongo and give Schneider at least 20 starts this season (with 21 so far), Schneider has still only played in 23 games. The problem is that Luongo is having too good a season: he's only been pulled twice this year. The first was the oddball game in Minnesota in which Rypien stole the show by attempting to steal a fan and the second was the Voldemort game: that which shall not be named. Other than that, Luongo has been too dang good to get pulled.

What this means is that, after starting on Saturday against the Oilers, Schneider needs to play two more games to qualify for the William M. Jennings Trophy. Which means he'll need to start 2 of the final 3 games because it's incredibly unlikely that Luongo will need to get pulled. Simultaneously, he and the rest of the Canucks need to be good enough to avoid allowing an abundance of goals against, or Tim Thomas and Tuukka Rask (who has played enough games to qualify) will win the award instead. And no one wants that.

Frankly, Schneider deserves to be honoured. He has been the ideal back-up goaltender, not just giving the Canucks a chance to win when he plays, but outright stealing games at times. He has faced 40 or more shots three times this season; he has won each of those games. His performance and dependability is one of the main reasons the Canucks have such a stellar goals against average. It would be a shame if the Canucks won the Jennings and only Luongo had his name on the trophy.

Unfortunately, it may not be in the cards. On Saturday, with Roberto Luongo and Alain Vigneault set to appear on After Hours, we submitted a question regarding this issue, and Elliotte Friedman put it to Alain Vigneault (at 6:16 of clip). AV was apparently unaware that Schneider needed two more games, stated that Luongo would start on Tuesday against Edmonton, and indicated that they have a plan. It seems doubtful that the plan was in place for Schneider to start the final two games of the season and unlikely that they will deviate from that plan. It's more likely that Luongo and Schneider will split the final two starts, leaving Schneider one measly game short.

Let's face it: now that the Canucks have sewn up the Presidents' Trophy, the only thing left to play for in the regular season is individual accolades. Last season, the entire team came together to help Henrik win the Art Ross Trophy. They should be able to the same for Luongo and Schneider. Alain Vigneault needs to play Cory Schneider in two more games this season, even if it means putting him in for the final five minutes of game 82 if the Jennings trophy is signed, sealed, and delivered. He's earned it.

Leave Cody Hodgson Alone

Cody Hodgson's not a bust! He's a human being!

The injury to Manny Malhotra has left the Canucks' third line in a state of disarray. It's a substantial hole, and the Canucks have struggled to fill it, promoting fourth-line centers such as Maxim Lapierre and Alex Bolduc, as well as converting wingers such as Jannik Hansen and Mason Raymond. All of these experiments have been met with mixed success. The answer, it seems, is evasive.

Tony Gallagher believes it's in the AHL. If the need is a natural center with some offensive talent, Gallagher (and many others) want to know why the Canucks haven't called up Cody Hodgson. Here's why: another Cody Hodgson recall won't help anybody. Not the Canucks, not Hodgson.

Right now, the best thing for everyone would be to leave Cody Hodgson alone.

The player who steps in for Manny Malhotra needs to do at least some of the things Malhotra did, and Hodgson can't really do any of them. Cody and Manny are all the wrong kinds of different. Malhotra is a shutdown specialist and a faceoff guru. Whoever replaces him has to be reliable defensively, at least, and Hodgson isn't.

Hodgson's a team-worst minus-12 for the Manitoba Moose, and it's no anomaly. He was a scary deployment in the bigs. Earlier this season, Tanner Glass, who spent some time on Hodgson's wing, admitted, "Sometimes I look around, and I'm like, 'Oh boy, what is he doing?'"

If Hodgson's defensive play alarms Tanner Glass, it terrifies Alain Vigneault, especially considering Cody's probably gonna be starting without the puck. Hodgson put up a 38.1 faceoff percentage in Vancouver. Of the 12 Canuck forwards that have taken 30 or more draws this season, only Raffi Torres is worse. Manny Malhotra started in the defensive zone more often than any other player in the NHL. Utilizing Cody Hodgson similarly would be downright foolish.

It would also be detrimental to his development. What Hodgson really needs these days is some drama-free consistency. He's hockey's Mary J. Blige. Since his first training camp with the Canucks in September of 2008, he's been through some dark times.

First, there was the offseason back injury, a slipped disc and a mysterious torn muscle that baffled doctors and specialists. This injury caused Hodgson to struggle in his second Canucks training camp, eventually being returned to junior before sitting out nearly the entire season. When he finally returned, he played all of eight games before breaking a toe, then nine more before somebody noticed. During this span of games, he also managed to further aggravate a back that hadn't fully healed.

Because of all this, Hodgson got a late start in this year's training camp. After failing to make the team for the third time, he was sent to the Manitoba Moose, where he finally got himself back into game shape. There, he was finally able to put together an uninterrupted string of healthy games, and--surprise, surprise--he took over the team lead in scoring.

Then he took a high stick in the face at practice, breaking his orbital bone. He would miss six more weeks of hockey, stalling his breakout season.

Once he recovered enough from this injury to return to the lineup, albeit in full face shield, he played four games before being called up to the NHL for five. Then, he was sent back down to the Moose for six. During this time, he finally returned to full health. Then, he was called back up to the Canucks for three games. Unsurprisingly, he didn't play well enough to stick with the big club. He was returned to the Moose, and he's yet to return to his impressive level of play from earlier in the season.

If you can't recognize the consistent pattern here, it's because there isn't one, except for constant inconsistency. Each time he begins to flourish, something derails his progress, and he winds up struggling to get his bearings. This has been the story for two years. And now, we want to call Cody Hodgson up for four more NHL games, then toss him into the playoff mix--where the hockey changes yet again--in a role for which he's woefully unsuited?

Forget it. Like most young men, what he really needs in his life is a little consistency. For a while, at least, can we please leave Cody Hodgson alone?