Prospect Communications Inc. (est. 1999) is an industry-leading full-service provider of strategic communications, issues management and media services for all domains of the professional and amateur sports worlds. Michael Langlois is the founder of Prospect Communications. In the communications field since 1976. Michael has established an outstanding reputation as a top independent issues management and communication skills consultant and provider of high-level strategic counsel in both the sports world and corporate sphere. This blogspace is home to Michael’s ongoing commentary regarding the intricate relationship between communications, issues management, the media, and the world of professional and amateur sports.

Showing posts with label communications preparedness of young athletes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label communications preparedness of young athletes. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

The only reason Sean Avery will ever make you think of Bobby Orr

Sean Avery and Bobby Orr in the same breath?

Not really. It’s simply that Avery’s latest and rather tasteless public outburst brought to mind someone who was – and is – very much unlike the veteran Dallas Stars forward.

Bobby Orr comes to mind because, publicly, he has always been everything someone like Avery is not. Quiet, rather dull, humble, perhaps even shy. And certainly not someone to seek the limelight.

Orr’s number 2 was recently retired by the Oshawa Generals of the Ontario Hockey League. Orr played in Oshawa from the age of 14 to his graduation to the Bruins at the age of 18. By all accounts the Oshawa organization had offered this honor many times over the years, but Orr declined because he was uncomfortable with all the fuss that would be made. (Orr has been, in recent years, a successful and well-regarded player agent.) He finally relented and the night went well.

I remember a chance encounter I had back in the fall of 1966, Orr’s rookie season as an 18 year-old with the Boston Bruins.

I was raised in a small town in southwestern Ontario, about a 4 hour drive from Toronto in those days. My eldest brother was receiving his Masters degree at Convocation Hall at the University of Toronto on a Friday night. (I believe the late Carl Brewer, a wonderful player with the Leafs in the early 60’s who had retired from pro hockey for a time, was also receiving a degree that night.)

I was the youngest of the family and we drove up that day to attend the graduation ceremony. We had not announced our intentions early enough to obtain seats for everyone, so my Dad and I were the ones left to “stand”, while my Mom, sister and my brother’s fiancĂ©e found seating.

That night, I never got inside the auditorium. Instead we just stood in the hall, waiting for the lengthy event to end. (When you’re 13, hearing hundreds of names read out in sequence when you can’t even see the "action" was pretty dull stuff.)

With nothing to do but kill time, I roamed around the halls. My Dad was leaning up against a wall near the exit, reading a newspaper.

I happened to notice some men (they all seemed like fairly old guys to me) in a small group, sharing stories and having a few laughs. One of them, younger than the others, was taking part in the frivolity. What caught my eye was that the young guy seemed somehow familiar. To me, he looked like Bobby Orr.

Now to put things in context, back in 1966, we didn’t have the kind of media exposure that is common today for politicians, entertainers or athletes. I had seen Orr’s picture in the hometown newspaper’s sports pages, and maybe (maybe) had seen him interviewed on television on Hockey Night in Canada.

But this was Orr’s rookie season, and as ballyhooed as his arrival to the NHL was back then, I could not be sure of what I was seeing right in front of me.

I ran over to my Dad and told him that I thought I had just seen Bobby Orr. My Dad didn’t even look up from his newspaper. "Why would Bobby Orr be here?" he said. He wasn’t being sarcastic--simply, in his mind, realistic. Kids, after all, are prone to dramatize.

But I knew the Bruins were playing the Leafs in Toronto the next (Saturday) night, so I knew that Orr could be in Toronto, at least.

I went back to eavesdrop on the group’s conversation. Just at that moment, the young guy started to pull away from his friends, and I heard someone say, "See you, Bobby".

That was all I needed to hear. I hustled over to my father and announced what I heard, and pleaded with him to at least check this guy out. By now, even my Dad was sensing I may not be crazy. It so happened that the young fellow had to work his way through a crowded hall and walk by us to get to the exit.

It was a moment I no doubt sized up as a once-in-a-lifetime fluke that would not ever come my way again. With my hopeful eyes on the fast-developing situation, my Dad rose to the occasion and gently, but firmly, grabbed the young man by the arm as he hustled by.

"Excuse me", my Dad said to him. “This young man here thinks he knows you. Do you mind if I ask you your name?”

"Bob Orr", came the reply.

I’d hit the mother lode. My Dad said, "Shake hands with my son". I shook Orr’s hand, who was quiet, and gracious. He was only 5 years older than me, but honest to God, I might as well have been meeting Jesus. It was that big a deal to me.

When we had driven back to my older sister’s home (she lived in Mississauga, as I recall, though it wasn’t called that in those days, it was probably Port Credit) I thought not about my brother’s hard-earned academic achievement, which was the reason for our rare visit to the big city but about meeting the best young hockey player I had ever seen (and as it turns out, would ever see).

I joked about never washing my right hand again, and probably didn’t, for a time.

Certainly there are athletes today who are gracious and humble, and would be so in meeting a young admirer. But all too often you have to stand in line and then pay for the honor.

The world has changed in the last 40 years. Attitudes, media, technology, money.

Oh well.

It was nice to read about Orr’s comments on his special night in Oshawa. A man of 60 now, but still publicly humble and gracious.

Maybe Sean Avery will be that way 30 years from now. But if so, he’s got a long way to go.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Why young athletes need a little guidance…

That fans pay for autographs is no surprise. The custom of promoters bringing in sports celebrities to draw and crowd and earn money by charging an entry fee and/or charging an autograph fee has been in place for years.

I remember waiting with a friend in my Dad’s car back in the mid 1960’s in Windsor, Ontario, across from Detroit, for probably two hours on a mid-week winter evening, at a Canadian Tire, I think it was.

The attraction was Bobby Hull. He and his Chicago Black Hawks were scheduled to play the Red Wings in Detroit the next night.

He met with people for hours in a long line, and when we finally went through at the end of the line, he spoke with my Dad about farming, and signed my friend’s puck. No charge.

Of course, Hull was paid by the store for his appearance, but there was no “extra” charge to the fans.

Things are a little different today, of course.

A recent Canadian Press story out of Edmonton reported that some Edmonton Oiler fans were upset that the team’s two young star attractions, Sam Gagner and Andrew Cogliano, both 19, were signing autographs at a local “show”, but for a fee.

The fee was charged by those organizing the event.

The CP story reported that the players had little to say when asked about the fee. According the report:

Cogliano said the signing was part of his contract with AJ Sportsworld, but declined to comment further after being told not to talk to media.

Gagner, looking at the table in front of him and slumping his shoulders when asked why they're charging fans, declined to answer.


As someone who has been an advisor to coaches and athletes for many years, the thing that I found surprising about the story was not that there was a fee involved (people can certainly decline to attend these events if they don’t like the idea of paying for autographs), but that the young athletes, according to the story, seemed unprepared to answer questions about the issue.

Just as it’s fair game to charge for autographs, it’s fair game to be asked questions about it.

If you’re old enough to earn close to a million dollars a year (soon to be much more than that), as these players earn, and old enough to sign a contract with a promotion company that charges a steep price for your signature, you’re also old enough to be prepared to address any related questions thoughtfully and honestly.

If these young athletes were indeed “told” not to talk with the media, the question is why?

And if they weren’t prepared to answer questions candidly and openly about their role in the event, perhaps they should not have agreed to participate.

Or, better still, someone (an agent, the team’s public relations staff—someone) should have helped prepare them for the reaction of the media, and the fans.

Media reports indicate the players did try to explain what happened a day later, but the damage had already been done. Not irreparable, of course, but unnecessary damage none the less.

No preparation and “No comment” is rarely, if ever, a good approach to building trust with your audience.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

It's Better to go fishing

By now most NFL observers and fans are aware of the events of the recent NFL draft, and the brick-like fall of Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn.

Quinn is a tremendously gifted athlete from a big name school, coached by a well-regarded former NFL coach at a prestigious college.

Quinn conducted what amounts to a media and public relations campaign to project himself as the deserving number 1 overall choice in the draft.

When he was not selected first, a confluence of events conspired to see his stock fall, such that he was not actually chosen until 22nd overall, though at least still in the first round of the football draft.

Readers will know that, as with the NBA draft, many of the top college players are invited to attend the NFL draft, and sit in the so-called “green room” awaiting their name to be called before they step out onto the stage and meet with commissioner at the podium and smile for the TGV cameras.

Quinn was indeed on hand in person, looking more pained by the moment as 21 names were called before him.

Interestingly, one fellow prospective choice, Joe Thomas of Wisconsin, chose to not attend the draft, spending the day fishing with his Dad and a friend. He was selected third overall and evidently found out about his selection later, by phone.

While Quinn, by all accounts, handled his ‘fall’ with about as much grace as a young person can under the circumstances, it brings to mind something that hockey guru Don Cherry stresses to young players every spring: you may want to consider not attending the NHL draft, unless you are absolutely – absolutely—certain your name will be called when you anticipate it will be.

(I say much the same to my young hockey clients. While it can be a once-in-a-lifetime thrill to be at the draft and hear your name called, it can also be a major disappointment when agents, coaches, scouts and friends have been telling you you’ll be drafted, and then you sit there and watch name after name called, and you’re dying inside with every pick…)

There is no question Quinn worked most of his young life toward that moment when his name would be called early in the NFL draft.

His ‘late’ selection still surpassed all those who were selected after him, and in rounds 2,3,4,5,6, and 7-- and those who played hard and well throughout their collegiate careers but were not selected at all, or even offered a free agent contract after the draft.

And Quinn’s sporting achievement surpasses those who would love to be in his shoes, but had not the talent, tenacity or support system that he had over many years.

That all said, a young athlete is sometimes wise to shun the spotlight, lessen his expectations, and when in doubt .............go fishing.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

If only Crosby can make it last…

Bobby Hull was one of the great ambassadors for the game of hockey from the late 1950’s throughout his entire professional career, which ended in 1980.

While there were reports of various off-ice issues over the years, Hull was nonetheless one of those sporting “heroes” who made the time to speak with fans, who would stand and sign autographs for long periods of time after games and practices, when teammates were long gone.

In a nice piece printed recently in the Ottawa Sun, columnist Don Brennan tells how, when the Penguins were in Ottawa to play the Senators, a group of youngsters, hoping to see Sidney Crosby, waved and held up signs as he was leaving the rink after practice. When security wouldn’t allow the young fans near the team bus, Crosby ventured off to meet with the youngsters, pose for pictures and sign autographs.

Shades of Bobby Hull, indeed. And in an era when so many athletes simply have no interest in the fans, and certainly wouldn’t make the time to sign an autograph unless they were paid to do so, it is at the very least refreshing to see Crosby handle his early fame in this manner.

If he can maintain his approach for another twenty years, we can speak of him in the same breath as a Hull, or even a Jean Beliveau, who has shown respect for the game and the fans long after his playing career came to an end.

This is a wonderful lesson for young athletes on one of the many off-ice/ off-field qualities it takes to become a real professional in any sport.

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

"I can't do it all by myself!"

It’s remarkable how seldom professional athletes will really and truly take responsibility for their actions and/or performance.

Sometimes, on the rare occasions when they do, the response is rather peculiar. Case in point: recent comments by Ottawa Senators defenseman Joe Corvo. Corvo said publicly he has not played up to par this season, and a newspaper headline in the Ottawa Sun thereafter read, “Corvo too honest?”

Corvo’s coach went so far as to say, “you’re always a little surprised when a player admits to lacking confidence publicly”, essentially suggesting it would have been better for Corvo not to acknowledge his poor play.

Corvo responded by saying, “Guys (athletes) are kind of programmed to say robotic responses…I don’t think I’m the first one that’s been honest.”

Compare and contrast Corvo’s honest, if uncommon, self-assessment with the recent reaction of Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick, after the Falcons finished a disappointing 7-9 and missed the NFC playoffs.

Said Vick, "I don't see how people can point the finger at me," he said. "I think I had a great season. ... I can't do it all by myself. I call myself Superman, but I really don't have the cape on my back. I can't change the game in certain situations. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can't."

He’s not the first “star” athlete to decline accepting responsibility for the performance of the team he is paid handsomely to lead. Quarterbacks in particular accept widespread acclaim when their teams achieve success but some aren’t as keen to accept any criticism that comes their way when things go off the rails.

When an athlete says, “I can’t do it all by myself…” he is sending a terrible – and likely unappreciated— message to his teammates, especially when the words come from a so-called “team leader” such as Vick.

No athlete in a team sport – not Bobby Orr, Michael Jordan or Jim Brown—won games or championships on their own. Every player on their respective teams made contributions. Orr, Jordan and Brown may have shown their true greatness by helping make the players around them better, but those players nonetheless all made valuable contributions game by game and throughout the playoffs until the championship was won.

The moment an athlete starts thinking – and goes so far as to start saying publicly – he is “doing it all by himself”, chances are he is, emotionally, “losing” the very people he needs to achieve success, his teammates.

There is a wonderful life lesson here for young athletes – and for young people in general.

The real issue is not so much, perhaps, that Vick said what he said. Rather, the problem is that he felt that way in the first place.

How could anyone who has seen teammates work in the off-season, play through injuries and do their utmost to play at the highest level in their sport, has the support and guidance of top coaches to help him prepare to be successful every day, really feel as though he is “doing it alone”.

With this story as a backdrop, aspiring elite athletes would do well to look inside themselves, and do an attitude check.

If you think you’re doing it “by yourself”, think again.

And if you truly can’t convince yourself that you are not a one-man band, for goodness sake, don’t say so out loud.

You’ll lose the respect of teammates, coaches, scouts and fans—and anyone who had an interest in your career.

The Vick quote reminds me of a similar comment made by a young NHL draft prospect several years ago, when asked by the media why his “stats” had fallen off.

He said, “If I had better linemates and been given more playing time, I would have scored more…”

In one sentence, the player essentially trashed his teammates and his coach and publicly laid blame on others for his own shortcomings.

We all understand that teenage athletes may sometimes say things they shouldn’t. No one should be that programmed.

But that player likely lost something in the minds of his teammates, coaches – and the scouts who were assessing him—when he made that comment.

If you’re a parent, you may want to encourage your child not to follow the Michael Vick approach to leadership.

Saturday, May 1, 2004

Setting the Bar Way Too High Never Helps

Rumblings started more than a year ago about the arrival of a young man from Russia, a young man with ‘game’, in basketball terminology.

Of all places, he landed in Oakville, Ontario (Canada), lived with relatives and friends and attended a local Oakville high school.

Naturally, he played ball for the high school team in 2002-‘03, and word spread of his size and prowess. At 7 feet 1 inch, Ivan Chiriaev started the 2003-’04 season with a goal in mind, the seed of an ambition that had been planted some time ago.

There was talk that he had the skills to be an NBA draft choice right out of high school, something that had never previously happened to a player based in Canada.

College recruiters and pro scouts began to attend his high school team’s games and tournaments, and even their practices. The attention grew but, unfortunately, much of the media talk turned to what the young man was saying, as opposed to how we was playing.

It is far too easy, of course, to criticize a young man for any apparent slips of the tongue, especially a young man for whom English is not a first language.

Unfortunately, the comments from the young man himself throughout much of this past season seemed to suggest he was very self-impressed.

Last November, he was quoted as saying, “They (NBA scouts) say I’m like Kevin Garnett….They’re saying I’m Dirk Nowitzki, but more athletic and with better handles.”

He would say the words were not his, rather those of unnamed NBA scouts. But such utterances were seemingly put forth often enough that some observers developed the impression that he was not exactly disagreeing with the ‘comparisons’ to some of the NBA’s top performers.

This culminated in a media conference in March, 2004, apparently called by his ‘people’, at which the young athlete declared for the NBA draft and was accurately quoted as saying “The NBA wants and needs Ivan Chiriaev.” (Unfortunately, Chiriaev’s own school teammates were not allowed entry into his “press conference”, and by all accounts, the press gathering was only allowed to ask one question of him, though he did consent to some one-on-one interviews afterwards.)

This approach, clearly thought-out in advance, gave further testimony to the sense that he was not, perhaps, a team-oriented young man, and was pushing himself a little too much, and maybe a little too soon.

Clearly, there is nothing wrong with having positive self-esteem and a healthy dose of self-confidence. Perhaps his advisors encouraged him to talk himself up, in the hopes that his seeming confidence would create a desirable aura around him. Maybe he spoke on his own accord, regardless of what he was encouraged to do.

Yet we all know that words only take us so far, and at the end of the day, an athlete has to be able to back up his talk. This past year, the 19 year-old had played mostly against local competition, though he did compete against some top teams from across Toronto and Ontario, as well as some strong U.S. prep teams, in various tournaments.

But even in those situations, he did not dominate. He demonstrated some shooting ability, impressive for a big man, and some unusual ball-handling skills for someone his size. Yet he was not a dominant player, and not always a tough presence underneath the basket.

But he was a talent, clearly someone with skills who should only get better.

Earlier this May, Chiriaev played in an All-Canada high school All-Star game in Mississauga, Ontario. He led the game in scoring, and was named game MVP. But NBA scouts were evidently left under-whelmed by his efforts and conditioning.

Many were apparently saying that the young player will not be a first-round draft choice, and may not be drafted at all, though Chiriaev himself has been saying in the media for months that he has been told that he could be a lottery pick.

After the All-Star game, the Toronto Sun quoted a Chiriaev advisor as saying “Whether [Chiriaev] is a lottery pick or not, he has done more for basketball in Canada than anybody before him and maybe even ever will”.

Many who have quietly contributed lifetimes to developing young Canadian players, high school and college coaches, for example, among others – not to mention the likes of actual NBA stars such as Steve Nash – may be confused, or perhaps astounded, by that reference.

Of course it is entirely possible that, after some private workouts, an NBA will still select him as a first round draft, and provide him with the multi-million dollar contract he desires to bring his family over to North America and establish a solid future for himself and his family.

Unfortunately, now that he has hired an agent, the U.S. college option is no longer available to him should his NBA hopes not move forward just yet.

He – and his advisors – seem to have established an expectation in the marketplace such that it has become very difficult for him to meet the expectations of NBA scouts.

This begs the question: all the bravado, all the talk, was it really helpful in the end?

Where were his advisors to encourage him to perhaps take a softer stance in his public discussions about his abilities, and his future?

We often are frustrated when athletes seem to lack charisma, or have nothing to say of interest. But as important as it is to be yourself and be genuine in one’s interactions with the media, did it help this young man’s cause to be so “out there”?

History tells us over and over: If you set the bar at a modest level, and exceed that expectation, things often work out well.

If you set public expectations too high, if you promise too much and don’t deliver, you are perceived, often unfairly, as a failure of sorts.

Chiriaev is a young man who may well have an NBA career ahead of him, despite the apparent drop in his draft-appeal of late.

But you can’t help but wonder how scouts might have reacted if he had come in under the radar screen a little more, had not pronounced himself to the basketball world in such brash terms. Instead of being disappointed that he is not what he has been hyped to be by his own people, they may have appreciated, instead, a ‘diamond in the rough’ – a 19 year old with unusual size and skills for a big man. A youngster who is still struggling with a new language and a new culture. A young athlete with immense potential, someone who may be a real player down the road.

But it may be harder now to reclaim the high road than it would have been to handle things differently in the first place.

Monday, December 1, 2003

Comrie and Communication

It took many, many weeks, but former Edmonton Oiler center Mike Comrie was finally traded recently. However, he was not traded to the team (Anaheim) that thought it had made the deal with Edmonton.

Once the transaction with the Philadelphia Flyers was finally formally consummated, Comrie – who for reasons most people don’t fully understand had seen his relationship with the Oilers organization nosedive horribly – was quoted as saying something that sounded simple, but was likely quite revealing.

Said Comrie, “I guess one of the bigger issues that we had was our lack of communication.”

Clearly, something unraveled between Comrie’s “camp” (agent, advisors) and the management of the club that he had once dreamt of playing for.

None of us on the outside really knows what happened, but Comrie’s own words suggest a likely problem area.

People in that volatile mix (a team trying to build a competitive team within a tight budget, a young player trying to fully maximize his “worth”) likely stopped communicating in a way that was helpful and positive. And then they probably stopped communicating at all.

“Communication” can mean means lots of different things, of course.

There is the ability to communicate, for example, and more precisely the ability to communicate well, thoughtfully and articulately.

Then there is the willingness to communicate.

Once two parties – whether in a workplace relationship, or in a personal relationship, for example—are unwilling to communicate, getting to a level where people can actually communicate effectively is impossible.

You’ve got to be at least willing to talk, before you can talk thoughtfully and in a responsive manner—and in a manner which might lead to understanding and agreement, or at least compromise.

Of course, it’s usually the case that before people hit the stage where they are no longer willing to talk, they did indeed communicate. It’s just that their communication likely grew more frustrating, more distant and less productive.

Is there a perfect way to deal with such stalemates in the sports world? Likely not. But it is important, at a minimum, to keep the lines of communication open.

On occasion, a team owner throws out protocol and goes over the head of his own General Manager, and simultaneously slides past the player’s agent to phone a player directly to see if the relationship can be saved, beyond whatever financial considerations have to be hammered out.

This was apparently the case in Texas a few years ago, when catcher Ivan Rodriguez was about to opt for free agency, but was won back by the ball club because he was overcome by the gesture of the team owner. Money (as large as the amount was) was not as important to the player as the fact that the owner wanted him to stay.

But such interventions don’t always work.

Good communication can heal, but poor communication can also create harm to a relationship that can last a very long time.

On a related front, how does one assess what happened in talks between the Oilers and the Mighty Ducks, in the very same (Comrie) matter?

One General Manager says publicly he was certain he had a “verbal” deal. The other says just as adamantly that he made it perfectly clear there was no Comrie deal in place until certain things took place.

Was this a case of poor communication? Poor listening skills? Or a person wanting to hear what he wanted to hear or the other GM wanting to be heard in the way that he wanted to be heard?

Whatever, it happens too often in sport at many levels -- from the 10-year old level to the pros -- that things are said that indeed hurt or wound in some fashion. A comment from a coach or a team official can sting and the feelings that result are often never really dealt with in an open and healthy fashion.

At the professional level, the demand for a trade can be brought on by many things: Playing time. Pride. Money. Hurt feelings.

But one of the things that often crops up after the fact as the real ‘trigger’ is unhappiness relating to poor communication between player and coach.

And it doesn’t always have to be that way.

Tuesday, April 1, 2003

Teaching Young Athletes to Handle Adversity

In late January of this year, a club from the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League decided it would not cooperate with the local media in the city they were visiting.

The reported reason?

The club evidently felt their actions in a game in that city earlier this season had been unfairly reported. In that game, the club in question amassed almost 300 minutes in penalties, and according to published reports, instigated two separate brawls.

By the end of the game, the club reportedly did not have enough players left on the bench to change lines.

Not having been in attendance at the game, it is not our intention to pass judgment on the club’s on-ice actions, though most hockey observers – even those who appreciate tough, hard-hitting action and the occasional ‘dust-up’ – are pleased that brawling has by and large left the game, including at the junior level.

The point here is that it is interesting that the club’s reaction was to shun the local media the next time they were in town. (For the record, The Hockey News reports that the club was indeed fined by the QMJHL for breaking league policy.)

Evidently feeling they were branded as “thugs”, as THN reported, the club did not cooperate with reporters after the January game.

Is this what leaders in junior hockey really want to teach young players: that the way to deal with adversity, or negative publicity, is to refuse to accept responsibility for your actions? What message does it send if clubs endorse the idea of players – at the age of 16, 17, 18 and 19 – viewing the media as the problem?

Did the media make up the story about the fight-filled game? Or simply report on the events of November game?

It’s always easy to “Monday Morning quarterback”, while sitting back and criticizing the decisions of others after the fact.

But such a response (encouraging your young players to intentionally not make themselves available to the media) by a club at this level, in fairness, begs some scrutiny.

Most players, and teams, are more than happy to accept public and media praise when they do well. It’s often easier to be accessible and pleasant when things are going well.

But when things don’t go well……

Was there no other way to deal with the team’s upset with the way they were portrayed in the local media? Did they consider the possibility of taking the time to express their disappointment for what they must have perceived as one-sided, biased, or incomplete reporting of the original game incidents back in November? Did they encourage their young players to take the high road, and demonstrate to the media, their own fans and the fans of the league at large that the events of last November were an aberration, and not reflective of the kind of team they are, or representative of the character of the young men who represent the team and their community?

It just seems there would have been different – and better – ways to handle an organization’s disappointment at how they felt they were “treated” by the media.

To play the ‘silence’ game (or playing word games with League rules… one player is reported to have come out and said “I came out to tell you [the reporters on hand after the January game] I have no comment…so you can’t say I didn’t talk to you”) only serves to reinforce a negative image of the players, the club and the organization – and unfortunately in the eyes of some, the entire league.

Two franchises in the Quebec loop are moving next season. Like many sports leagues, the league depends on fan support to survive. It also depends upon the good will of organizations, coaches, team officials and players who recognize the importance of positive publicity – and respecting relationships, including those with the media.

These kinds of decisions – to in effect boycott the media, the very people who publicize the games – are confusing at best.