Page 29 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

“What’s your take on Richardson?” I wondered.

Killer shrugged. “I’ve never met the guy. There’s lots of rumours going ’round now, but I don’t spread gossip. What I do know is that he’s completely hands off. Lets Panner make all the hockey decisions. That’s the real problem, Coach doesn’t have anyone to veto his crap decisions, or enough time to do it all.”

“What happened to the Director of Hockey Operations?”

“He quit to take another job, and they decided not to replace him. Huge mistake.”

“I think they’re having financial issues and trying to save money.”

“Another mistake. If you’ve got no dough, having good people at the top is even more important. You can’t waste money on fuck-ups. A few guys they’ve signed here, I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.”

“What would you do, if you were in charge here?” I got my phone out and got ready to take a few notes of my own.

“Well, number one, I’d hook up with our team. Having the Millionaires onside would save money and get you resources.”

“But if you couldn’t do that, what would you do so they’d start winning?”

“I’d change up the way they play. Faster and more offensive. Then even if you lose, the fans have goals to cheer about. Shot blocking doesn’t get them out of their seats. But that’s why they need the Millionaires, the farm team’s gotta have the same style as the bigs.”

“But everyone wants more scorers. How can you get them?”

“Nah, not scorers. I’d concentrate on the back end. Get some faster defensemen who can get the puck up and out. You’ve already got Fairburn and Ramsey, who can finish. What they can’t do is lug the puck out of their own zone, go through the entire opposition, and then score. Nobody can do that.”

“Yeah, well everyone wants puck-moving D too. How do you find them?”

“It’s easy. Analytics.”

I laughed. That was the last thing I expected to hear from a throwback guy like him.

Killer laughed. “You think I’m old and not into the new hockey world? Well, if I could, I’d clone myself and go out to every single game right down to the colleges. Then I’d know the job was being done right. But that’s impossible. So we use the numbers to identify the players we do want to target on. We still use the old scouting systems too, but this is like insurance. If I’ve got a scout who’s green or I don’t have a handle on, I use the numbers to tell him who I want him to look at. They can still bring me their own picks, but this way I get a full evaluation of the guys I’m interested in.”

“So, I need to hire an analytics guy,” I said.

Killer laughed. “Hear what you said there? You said “I’ instead of “the Vice.” Sounds like you’re drinking the Kool-Aid. Don’t forget who’s paying your salary.”

“Shit. It’s tough not to get sucked into their problems. Greg and Amanda, the niece and nephew, they’re working hard, but they don’t know much about hockey.” And they both trusted me so much. Swanny had called to see how the trial period was going and apparently Greg sang my praises. Amanda was bossy, but she gave me legitimate tasks instead of make-work projects. “But anyway, how would you go about setting up an analytics department?”

“Again, they need to hook up with the Millionaires. We’ve already got people crunching numbers for us.” He shook his head. “But you wanna know something weird? A lot of guys are doing analysis for nothing—they’ve got a whole community online and they kind of show off for each other. And there’s a lot of them right here in Vancouver.”

I nodded. I’d have to search online and see what was out there.

After the game,Killer went off to chat to a few guys he knew. I decided to go by the coach’s office and introduce myself. Well, reintroduce myself, since I remembered meeting Robert Pankowski at a charity golf tournament a few years ago.

The team facilities were kind of old, but at least it looked like they spent more money here than in our offices. I could hear the noise of the guys in the room, and I felt a deep longing. Even after a loss, being in the room gave you that feeling that you were united and going to come out fighting next time. Of course, nothing beat being in the room after a win.

I knocked on the half-open door of his office.

“Yeah?” a low voice growled, and I walked in.

The coach was doing some paperwork. He looked sweaty and exhausted. If yelling was exercise, he had just worked out for two hours.

“Hey, Coach.”

“Lucky Luczak. You slumming it now?” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“I’m working as a consultant for the Vice,” I explained as I sat across from him.

He frowned. “Yeah, I heard something about that. What exactly are you doing?”

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