THE NUMBERS DON'T LIE

In the world of high stakes athletics nothing seems more important than statistics.

The numbers an athlete posts can provide a quantifiable answer to the pertinent question,

“What have you done for me lately?

It may seem cruel and a bit callous, but spots on teams are often earned and lost primarily based on the stats an athlete produces. Countless hours on sports talk radio and cable tv are dedicated to endlessly rehashing the statistics athletes put up. The obsession with the sports stars and the numbers they produce can be mind boggling to the point that I rarely, if ever, even follow those radio and tv shows anymore. There’s just too much over-analyzing and rampant speculation to hold my interest.

What is the point?

A mock draft?

Who cares?

Trade speculation?

Why not wait until an actual trade is made?

Second guessing the manager of your favorite baseball team?

Sure, that’s pretty easy Jethro, from the comfort of your Barcalounger, armed with very little of the experience and information the manager had at hand.

I guess maybe I just believe that different numbers should be looked at to make more valid analysis of athletes.

I’m not referring to the new analytics that are taking over baseball with sabermetrics, and PECOTA, as described in the book, MONEYBALL, by Michael Lewis, and depicted in the movie of the same name, starring Brad Pitt.

Many proponents swear by those methods.

I prefer looking at the figures in a different way of my own.

Perhaps mine might be a better way of taking the measure of the man.

As a kid growing up in Minnesota in the 60’s and 70’s I skated on our backyard rink and rooted for Gopher hockey, the NHL’s North Stars, and the Fighting Saints in the WHA.

The guys who played on those teams were my heroes, and what I aspired to become.

Unfortunately I never made it there.

Far from it.

But some of those guys still remain heroes to me.

One of those heroes is a fellow named Ted Hampson.

Late in his career Hampson played two seasons for the North Stars and then 4 with the Fighting Saints. As a fan I really liked Ted because, like me he is a smaller guy, standing 5 foot 8 inches tall (just a little bit taller than me).

Ted could score goals, provide assists, and do whatever the team needed.

In 1969, as a North Star, he won the Masterton Trophy, which is awarded to the National Hockey League player who best exemplifies the qualities of perseverance, sportsmanship, and dedication to hockey. In 1973, while playing for the Fighting Saints, he won the Paul Deneau Trophy as the WHA’s most gentlemanly player.

Winning those awards was quite an accomplishment for Ted. More impressive though may be the fact that at the end of Ted’s career the United States Hockey League (a midwestern junior hockey league) named their award for perseverance and sportsmanship the Ted Hampson Award.

A good friend of mine named Tom won that award the year he played juniors.

If memory serves me correctly the award came with a plaque and a small scholarship check since junior hockey players primarily play to catch the attention of college hockey scouts and coaches in hopes of earning scholarships and a spot on a college hockey roster. Tom earned a college scholarship, had a successful college hockey career, graduated, and went into coaching for many years, at a lot of different levels and locations.

A big part of coaching in juniors and college is scouting and recruiting players.

At any high school game there is invariable a cadre of scouts and coaches in the upper rows of the stands evaluating the talents and potential of the kids giving it their all on the ice down below. The coaches could rely solely on the players’ statistics to evaluate talent, but there’s really no substitute for watching an athlete do their thing in person.

Spending so much time in rinks evaluating the same pools of kids means that many of these scouts and coaches get to know each other fairly well. Conversations are struck up, old tales are retold, and friendships are formed.

A couple of years ago, attending a high school hockey game with Tom, my friend who had won the Ted Hampson Award, we ran into the actual Ted Hampson, who now scouts for the Vancouver Canucks. Tom and Ted had become friends over years of scouting in a myriad of rinks across North America.

There is a school of thought that says you shouldn’t meet your heroes.

You’ll only be disappointed.

I've never believed that.

I was honored to meet Ted. He was a pretty nice guy but we only had the opportunity to chat for a short while. You see Hampson was at the game with his wife and he was going to get something to eat and needed to get back to his seat beside her before the next period began.

We saw Ted’s son Gordie sitting in the stands with his mom, so Tom pointed out Gail Hampson, Ted’s wife, to me. He then explained to me that Gail suffered from dementia so Ted pretty much cares for her full time except when he has a game to attend. Occasionally Ted could bring her along, but increasingly more often he now needs to arrange to have a nurse come care for her while he is busy evaluating hockey players.

Tom also told me that early on in his friendship with Ted Hampson, decades after Tom won the Ted Hampson Award, he told Ted about how honored he had been to win the award, and that the fact that Hampson’s name, one of the hockey players Tom admired the most, was attached to it, made it so much more meaningful.

Tom Hanks, as manager Jimmy Dugan, in the movie A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN, famously said,

“THERE’S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!”

Well there’s none in hockey either, except on occasion the combination of Zamboni fumes and fluorescent lighting can cloud up your contact lenses and make the eyes of some in the stands to water a bit.

I’m told that that night, when Tom shared that story with Ted, it was one of those eye-watering occasions.

Even though neither of them wear contact lenses.

That’s their story though, and they’re stickin’ to it.

Sadly, on January 14th of this year, Ted’s wife, Gail Hampson passed away.

I heard about it a few days later through social media.

The next Saturday Tom and I went to watch a high school game.

I asked if he had heard that Mrs. Hampson had passed.

He hadn’t, but he knew that another friend, Frank, who scouts with Ted, and meets him for coffee every Wednesday, would probably have first-hand information.

After that period we sought Frank out.

He filled us in on the details and shared a touching story with us.

Gail died peacefully on a Tuesday.

The final arrangements were made and the funeral was planned for a Monday two weeks later.

Ted had done all he could do for Gail, for the time being, so when Frank offered to take Ted to watch a high school game the Saturday after Gail passed, Ted agreed to go.

As Frank told the story he was glad to get Ted back in an arena and doing something he really enjoyed. After a time though Ted developed a bit of a preoccupied expression, a thousand mile stare. Finally Ted told Frank that he had been wracking his brain, he had a nagging feeling he had forgotten to do something. It finally occurred to Ted, he had forgotten to arrange a nurse to stay with Gail.

But then he remembered that Gail was gone.

There’d be no more nurses for Ted to arrange.

After 61 years of marriage Gail is now gone.

61 years of marriage.

61 years as a devoted husband.

In my view THAT is the most important stat, and the greatest accomplishment, that Ted has yet achieved.

It’s also why he remains one of my heroes and I’m glad I was fortunate enough to meet him. .

The numbers don’t lie.