The Winds of Change
Posted: Mon Jan 26, 2015 10:07 pm
The Winds of Change
By: Phil Atio
"It was a good run," he said, looking down at the bar with a Dewar's in need of a refill.
"What was the best part?" I asked softly, sensing the sadness and disappointment in his voice.
He tapped his glass on the table, silently imploring the bartender to refill his drink.
"The people," he replied, shaking his head. "There were a lot of good people."
The conversation continued in small blurbs like that. Adam Burke was clearly fatigued by the decision and the extenuating circumstances surrounding his quiet step back from the league that he created and loved so much. The former commissioner of Eastside's Hockey Elite Collide will forever hold a special place in the simulation hockey world, revitalizing the love for the game that so many had so long ago. Recently, he admitted in private to the current leadership that his role as a General Manager could be filled if the right person came along. It wasn't a hard decision, but only because it was the right one.
He smiled a lot while reminiscing about the league that he and former co-commissioner Ryan Spurrell put together. There were laughs. There were inside jokes that only he could laugh at, because I had no idea what he was talking about. The more he drank, the more he opened up. He opened up about the process. About the hardships. About the friendships. About the late night sims and the file mishaps. It was a labor of love until it became too laborious. Life got in the way. Relationships got in the way. Fate and misfortune got in the way.
"If only I could have fucking loved it some more," he lamented, more than a hint of anger in his slightly slurred words.
We had the bar to ourselves because it was past closing time. The bartender was a friend and somebody who had kept Mike and Ike's Bar open late many times to satisfy his most regular client. Sometimes Mike would just leave the bar open and go home to his wife and kids for the night, leaving Adam, his thoughts, and a fully stocked bar to ponder the night away.
Most of what Burke said about his final months of involvement in the league was spoken off the record. What I can share is that health problems to his parents and a major change of lifestyle were mostly to blame for the last eight months. Before that, it was mostly fatigue, along with a major loss in his life that had been an inevitability for a long time. During Burke's tenure, the league experienced numerous changes and overhauls. From day one of building the league until the present, EHEC has constantly tried to stay ahead of the simulation hockey league curve. With a Rulebook attempting to conquer all of the game's inherent shortcomings, the biggest problem for Burke was that he was never satisfied. As a perfectionist, he tried to fashion a perfect GM base and a perfect league. Unfortunately, neither were possible and that realization became too much to bear on a daily basis.
"The thing that pisses me off," Burke continued, pouring his own Dewar's, "is that I couldn't keep going. I swore I would never do that. I would never put Pat [Webber], Julien [Rozon], or Dan [Taranu] in that situation. It was too much like what happened 10 years ago. I just found myself pushing the league farther and farther away. I tried to get back into it and tried to get back on the wagon, but every time I'd get within arm's reach, something else would happen."
Burke had his reasons, though he acknowledged that they would be irrelevant to those have been around since the beginning and those that are there now. "I don't even know the new guys. But I hope they can maintain the league's legacy."
All indications are that the league remains in good standing with the new regime running things as smoothly as possible, given the sudden transition and a new crop of general managers with new ideas. Countless hours of commitment and dedication go into running a league from top to bottom and Burke told me off-the-record that he knows who appreciated it and who didn't. "Admittedly, I let those that didn't influence me too much when I was still overseeing the league's day-to-day operations. There's that old saying about one bad apple. There were a couple too many bad apples. With what was happening outside of the league in the real world..."
His voice trailed off. And then began again after another drink. "Fuck it. It doesn't matter. The reasons I scaled back my involvement were mine and mine alone. If somebody wants an explanation, they can find me and I'll gladly give them one. And there's nobody to blame but myself."
We talked about how his team, the Columbus Blue Jackets, never won the Cup and how frustrating the ups and downs were. We talked about how he lost touch with the close friends he did have in the league. We talked about what could have been done differently and what could have been done sooner. We talked about his stubbornness. Sometimes he would ask what I would have done and I never had an answer. It was clear to me that unless I was in the trenches with the league, I couldn't possibly understand.
One bottle of Dewar's down, another opened. Although, as Burke said when he opened the second bottle, he didn't drink the entire first one. His behavior wasn't reckless. It never was. He was calculated and analytical. In everything that he did. Frankly, that probably was his downfall. He never said as much, but I could read it on his face. We had been friends long before this night. Initially, my byline was hilarious to him. Over the course of time, however, we spent many nights watching hockey games and drinking beer. I knew of the situations behind the scenes, but never pressed him. I wasn't going to tonight either.
"What would be the last thing you would say to the league?" I asked as he finally put on his coat to get into the waiting taxi.
"Have fun," he said without pause. "I stopped having fun and that's when I realized it was a job. An unpaid job." He laughed and gazed back at the bottle, but then he turned around, waving his hand at it as if to tell it 'No'. "Keep it fun. It's not a job. The day it becomes one is the day you should either get out or re-evaluate its purpose. The burden I left on the guys that are still there is something I may never live down, but at least I left some kind of framework and I left some of the best people I've ever met in charge. I know there's a future. I left on bad terms, but at least I left something."
He laughed. "That's why I left the bottle on the bar and didn't take it with me."
Most of the GMs that knew Burke the best as a person have also moved on from the league. Some that knew him as the Commissioner are still around and he's thankful to each and every one of them. Some are new to the game, but seem to be changing it for the better. Neither one of us were sure if the league would care about what transpired or the reasons why. Neither one of us knew what the feedback would be to this article. And yet, neither one of us seemed to mind. The chapters were written and the story was finished. It'll be left up to history to decide what it all means. For the past, present, and future members of EHEC, all that matters is that somebody sat down to write the story.
By: Phil Atio
"It was a good run," he said, looking down at the bar with a Dewar's in need of a refill.
"What was the best part?" I asked softly, sensing the sadness and disappointment in his voice.
He tapped his glass on the table, silently imploring the bartender to refill his drink.
"The people," he replied, shaking his head. "There were a lot of good people."
The conversation continued in small blurbs like that. Adam Burke was clearly fatigued by the decision and the extenuating circumstances surrounding his quiet step back from the league that he created and loved so much. The former commissioner of Eastside's Hockey Elite Collide will forever hold a special place in the simulation hockey world, revitalizing the love for the game that so many had so long ago. Recently, he admitted in private to the current leadership that his role as a General Manager could be filled if the right person came along. It wasn't a hard decision, but only because it was the right one.
He smiled a lot while reminiscing about the league that he and former co-commissioner Ryan Spurrell put together. There were laughs. There were inside jokes that only he could laugh at, because I had no idea what he was talking about. The more he drank, the more he opened up. He opened up about the process. About the hardships. About the friendships. About the late night sims and the file mishaps. It was a labor of love until it became too laborious. Life got in the way. Relationships got in the way. Fate and misfortune got in the way.
"If only I could have fucking loved it some more," he lamented, more than a hint of anger in his slightly slurred words.
We had the bar to ourselves because it was past closing time. The bartender was a friend and somebody who had kept Mike and Ike's Bar open late many times to satisfy his most regular client. Sometimes Mike would just leave the bar open and go home to his wife and kids for the night, leaving Adam, his thoughts, and a fully stocked bar to ponder the night away.
Most of what Burke said about his final months of involvement in the league was spoken off the record. What I can share is that health problems to his parents and a major change of lifestyle were mostly to blame for the last eight months. Before that, it was mostly fatigue, along with a major loss in his life that had been an inevitability for a long time. During Burke's tenure, the league experienced numerous changes and overhauls. From day one of building the league until the present, EHEC has constantly tried to stay ahead of the simulation hockey league curve. With a Rulebook attempting to conquer all of the game's inherent shortcomings, the biggest problem for Burke was that he was never satisfied. As a perfectionist, he tried to fashion a perfect GM base and a perfect league. Unfortunately, neither were possible and that realization became too much to bear on a daily basis.
"The thing that pisses me off," Burke continued, pouring his own Dewar's, "is that I couldn't keep going. I swore I would never do that. I would never put Pat [Webber], Julien [Rozon], or Dan [Taranu] in that situation. It was too much like what happened 10 years ago. I just found myself pushing the league farther and farther away. I tried to get back into it and tried to get back on the wagon, but every time I'd get within arm's reach, something else would happen."
Burke had his reasons, though he acknowledged that they would be irrelevant to those have been around since the beginning and those that are there now. "I don't even know the new guys. But I hope they can maintain the league's legacy."
All indications are that the league remains in good standing with the new regime running things as smoothly as possible, given the sudden transition and a new crop of general managers with new ideas. Countless hours of commitment and dedication go into running a league from top to bottom and Burke told me off-the-record that he knows who appreciated it and who didn't. "Admittedly, I let those that didn't influence me too much when I was still overseeing the league's day-to-day operations. There's that old saying about one bad apple. There were a couple too many bad apples. With what was happening outside of the league in the real world..."
His voice trailed off. And then began again after another drink. "Fuck it. It doesn't matter. The reasons I scaled back my involvement were mine and mine alone. If somebody wants an explanation, they can find me and I'll gladly give them one. And there's nobody to blame but myself."
We talked about how his team, the Columbus Blue Jackets, never won the Cup and how frustrating the ups and downs were. We talked about how he lost touch with the close friends he did have in the league. We talked about what could have been done differently and what could have been done sooner. We talked about his stubbornness. Sometimes he would ask what I would have done and I never had an answer. It was clear to me that unless I was in the trenches with the league, I couldn't possibly understand.
One bottle of Dewar's down, another opened. Although, as Burke said when he opened the second bottle, he didn't drink the entire first one. His behavior wasn't reckless. It never was. He was calculated and analytical. In everything that he did. Frankly, that probably was his downfall. He never said as much, but I could read it on his face. We had been friends long before this night. Initially, my byline was hilarious to him. Over the course of time, however, we spent many nights watching hockey games and drinking beer. I knew of the situations behind the scenes, but never pressed him. I wasn't going to tonight either.
"What would be the last thing you would say to the league?" I asked as he finally put on his coat to get into the waiting taxi.
"Have fun," he said without pause. "I stopped having fun and that's when I realized it was a job. An unpaid job." He laughed and gazed back at the bottle, but then he turned around, waving his hand at it as if to tell it 'No'. "Keep it fun. It's not a job. The day it becomes one is the day you should either get out or re-evaluate its purpose. The burden I left on the guys that are still there is something I may never live down, but at least I left some kind of framework and I left some of the best people I've ever met in charge. I know there's a future. I left on bad terms, but at least I left something."
He laughed. "That's why I left the bottle on the bar and didn't take it with me."
Most of the GMs that knew Burke the best as a person have also moved on from the league. Some that knew him as the Commissioner are still around and he's thankful to each and every one of them. Some are new to the game, but seem to be changing it for the better. Neither one of us were sure if the league would care about what transpired or the reasons why. Neither one of us knew what the feedback would be to this article. And yet, neither one of us seemed to mind. The chapters were written and the story was finished. It'll be left up to history to decide what it all means. For the past, present, and future members of EHEC, all that matters is that somebody sat down to write the story.
