Alas, the poor hockey goal judge. We knew him well.
All right, maybe not that well, but enough to know he was a man of influence, someone who mattered. You could tell, because he wore a dark blazer and sat in a little glass box with a stern face and an itchy button finger.
His job was to spell the difference between winning and losing, joy and despair or playoffs or no playoffs. He did so by pushing a button that turned on a red light.
In the old days, that used to mean a goal was scored. Since 1991-92, it often meant a goal was scored whereby the referee would skate to the scorer's bench, ask for a telephone and communicate with the video replay judge, who would watch more reruns of the goal than the entire first season of Desperate Housewives. Then the video-replay judge would confirm it was a goal, which allowed the referee to signal a centre-ice faceoff so people could cheer (or boo) a second time, which is what they did in the first place when the goal judge pushed his button and turned on a red light.
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This was called progress. And as the NHL continues to evolve, the role of the goal judge continues to take a back seat or, as we'll see this coming season, an upper seat.
In case you missed it, the NHL has allowed clubs to move their goal judges to the press box or a similar spot, depending on the arena and its configuration. The idea is that the goal judges can still watch the game from afar and flick the light switch through wireless technology.
Besides, those stern-faced guys in dark blazers were taking up good seats. And they were getting paid for it, too. About $85 (all currency U.S.) a game, according to the NHL.
The Philadelphia Flyers have already turned their red-light district into a high-rent area. According to a report in the Philadelphia Inquirer, both goal sites at the Wachovia Center will feature two rows of three seats, which are lounge-like in size and covered in leather (could be Corinthian, could be Italian). Customers will get seatside service from waiters or waitresses and can also pretend to flick a switch if a goal is scored.
The problem, the Inquirer says, is the seats are packaged with the lease of a suite to both NHL and NBA games. The price for a mid-level suite and six goal-judge seats: $225,000.
That would almost pay Flyers forward Daniel Brière for two entire games.
Other teams are also going the goal-judge seat route. The Edmonton Oilers tried a version of it last season, while the Calgary Flames are going to offer their fans a unique experience this season by seating them behind the goal at the north end of the arena. (The south end is saved for the Zamboni.)
What those seats will cost in Calgary has yet to be determined. But you can be safe in assuming the payout will be equally unique.
Some clubs may want to keep the goal judges positioned where they've always been, but there won't be many, not with money to be made. This brings up the question of why even bother to have goal judges when it's obvious they've become as outdated as elevator operators.
Purists argue goal judges are a part of hockey history. They're a link to a time when the players wore tube skates and carried wooden sticks, and the ice and boards were clear without a hint of advertising.
But the advent of video replay devalued the goal judge, rendered him next to meaningless. He used to have a telephone in his little glass box, a hotline so his bosses could call and ask, "Are you sure that was in?" One NHL goal judge admitted last season he never gets calls any more.
"Not even a wrong number?" he was asked.
"It's like I'm not even there," he said.
It's to the point now where the referees don't even bother with the goal judge. They don't talk to him. He's simply another face in the crowd, only this season he'll be up in the press box or dispatched to some other forlorn spot far from the action he once took in with all the seriousness of an air-traffic controller.
Will it matter if he can't see the puck or makes a bad call? Not any more. His place in the game is fading away. The bigger question is the one you'll hear more and more outside NHL arenas this coming winter: "Who's got goal-judge seats for sale? Anybody got goal-judge seats?"
One tradition dies; another is born.
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