NHL's emergency backup goalie plan should be in every sport

Hockey has the greatest rule in sports: The emergency backup goalie, or EBUG.

It's a simple idea: Professional hockey teams generally carry two goalies on their roster, since goalies rarely get hurt or ejected from games and both goalies on a team almost never do.

But if something weird happens? If both goalies for a team get hurt?

The EBUG enters the game.

And here's the great part: The EBUG is a regular person – a local hockey player, a member of the coaching staff or maybe a relative of a team employee who needed free tickets. Each NHL team must provide an EBUG for every game and those players are available in case either team loses both goalies. The EBUG is the "break-glass-in-case-of-emergency" player.

In that case? The EBUG enters the game. And plays. They are the goalie in an NHL game!

It's only happened six times in the history of the NHL, most recently by the Anaheim Ducks in the final game of the 2021-2022 season.

But the idea? It's fantastic! It's like getting called out of the stands at a baseball game to play right field or being called from the stands at an NBA game to defend LeBron James for a few possessions.

Heck, it could even mean being called out of the gallery to carry someone's golf clubs or called out of the stands at a tennis match to chase down balls.

Can you imagine going to a 49ers game and after their kicker and punter are hurt, the team calls you out of the stands to handle both chores? Could you do it? Even if you've practiced?

The idea that regular people can suddenly find themselves in the action is found mostly in Disney movies or in weird dream sequences on sitcoms. But in hockey, it's possible.

For instance, that season-ending Ducks game in 2022 saw a guy named Tom Hodges play the third period in goal after Anaheim's top two goalies were hurt. The game was in Dallas, so no one on the Ducks had met Hodges, who in his regular life is an insurance salesman. While playing, he wore a mishmash of team equipment – a mask and pads from the Dallas Stars, a jersey of the Ducks. He'd played college hockey and briefly was a minor-league hockey player, but mostly he's an EBUG, attending Stars games, just in case.

Just in case happened.

I don't know how you'd add this option to other sports, but I endorse this.

We already love lesser versions: When a non-catcher has to play catcher in baseball or a pitcher has to play the outfield. When a kicker or punter gets hurt in football and someone unfamiliar with the role has to take over. When all the tall players foul out and an NBA team has to play a lineup with no one taller than 6-foot-4.

We'd love it even more if there were a version of the EBUG in those sports.

My proposal: All sports create a version of the EBUG, but rather than it being a designated person, make it a blind draw: Just before the game starts, the PA announcer lets the crowd know that the person sitting in Section 49, Row L, Seat 8 is the emergency player for the game.

That person is given a uniform and told to be ready, just in case.

It would make every game more exciting. It would make every ticket a lottery. And if it happened once every three or four years, it would be spectacular.

Let's adopt the NHL rule and add an Emergency Backup Player (EBUP) to every sport!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The long national wait is over; Nerf is in the toy hall of fame

The Toy Hall of Fame in Rochester, New York, will finally induct my childhood this year.

Along with the Fisher-Price corn popper and Cabbage Patch Kids, that is.

Nerf balls and baseball cards – the most influential "toys" of my youth – were finally inducted to the toy shrine at the Strong National Museum of Play earlier this month after years of being passed over. The honor for Nerf balls came after me campaigning for them year after year after year.

It's about time.

Suitable for a toy that has been overlooked year after year, Nerf was overshadowed in the announcement. This time it wasn't because Nerf was outvoted by the rocking horse or the stick or Jenga. This time it was because Ken was bypassed by voters despite being the sneaky star of the year's biggest movie.

Ken can wait. He's used to being in the shadows (and did anyone ever get excited about a Ken doll? When it comes to toys, he's an accessory!). This is Nerf's year. And it's the year of baseball cards.

Anyone of my generation can (and should) join me in celebrating the indication of Nerf into the toy shrine, with the honor coming a full six years after its harder-shell cousin, the Wiffle Ball, was inducted. Want even more stunning news? The following toys were inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame ahead of the Nerf ball: jigsaw puzzles, the Game Boy, rubber ducks and Risk.

Over Nerf balls!

Nerf revolutionized how we play. The spongy ball (my first Nerf ball was just that. There was no Nerf basketball or Nerf football or Nerf gun. There was just a Nerf ball that I could throw at my sisters and see them flinch) changed indoor action.

I could bounce it off the wall and not have a parent yell at me. I could shoot it at the laundry basket, anticipating the creation of the Nerf basketball. Had none of the subsequent Nerf toys emerged, the Nerf ball still would be legendary and worthy of induction into the Hall of Fame.

Alas, it spawned an entire world of Nerf products.

It's a similar story for baseball cards. I've written about my baseball cards in the past, but their arrival was a harbinger of childhood spring and summer for me. Over the years – notably when I was in middle school – I collected and collected and collected. I had multiple years of complete sets of 660 (then 726) cards made by Topps. The fact that I know far more about mid-1970s baseball players than those on current rosters has something to do with age and memory, but it also has to do with those cardboard pictures with stats on the back.

(By the way, I sold my card collection a few years ago to a friend who helped get me started. Of course, I sold them shortly before a worldwide pandemic reinvigorated the card-collecting craze and doubled, tripled and quadrupled prices. Which is why I'm glad I sold them to a friend, not a business.)

The corn popper (that toy toddlers push around as they learn to walk) and Cabbage Patch Kids are also worthy honorees to the Toy Hall of Fame. But when historians look back on this class of the Toy Hall of Fame, they'll nod in agreement with the selection of baseball cards and shake their heads in alarm that it took this long – as part of the 26th class to be inducted – before Nerf made it into the Hall of Fame.

I'll now end my boycott of the Hall of Fame. If I somehow find myself in Rochester, New York, with a chance to visit, I'll go.

And I'll grab the Nerf and throw it at someone, seeing if they flinch like my sisters did.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Writing up the unwritten rules for passengers on planes

Legendary essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson put it succinctly: "Good manners are made up of petty sacrifices." 

Emerson wasn't talking about unwritten rules on airplanes (since he died 21 years before the Wright Brothers took flight in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina), but he could have been. Manners are important when you're stuck in a metal tube thousands of feet in the air with hundreds of people for several hours. Some basic politeness – following societal rules – can make it better for everyone.

But what are the rules? We know we can't bring our weapons or a 3.5-ounce drink through security, but what about other passenger rules?

You probably have opinions, but the folks at Kayak (the travel website) made it official when they surveyed people on the internet (not science, but still a survey) to gain an understanding of general "rules."

Here's what the public says about some airplane "rules," with the correct answer from someone who routinely sits in the middle seat so Mrs. Brad can have the window and who often falls asleep and misses the opportunity to get "free" peanuts or soda.

• Can you take off your shoes in flight? Most people (56%) say no because it's gross. Brad says: Go ahead, as long as your feet don't stink. I keep my shoes on, but that's because I'm not an animal.
• Do you get to control the shade if you have the window seat? The public says yes (77%). Brad also says yes for the same reason you get to control your window in the car: You're sitting next to it. If you want to control the window shade, get a window seat. Also, Mrs. Brad sits by the window and I trust her.
• Can you rush to get off the plane ahead of others? Most people (58%) say no because it's unfair. The public says you should wait your turn. Brad says: Of course not. This is like thinking you shouldn't have to wait in line at the grocery store. If you're over 5, you can wait. The exception is if you have explosive diarrhea, of course (that's true in the store, too. And the bank. And even in line for the bathroom at a concert or sporting event).
• If you're in the middle seat, do you get both armrests? The public says no (57%) because the public has apparently never sat in the middle. Brad says: The middle seat should get both armrests. Or at least the main portion of them. The window and aisle seats each get a full armrest on one side and should get at most a small portion on the inside.
• Can you call someone before you get off the plane? The public says no (69%) because it's irritating to listen in on other people's conversations. Brad says: No, unless you have a really interesting conversation that I can then repeat to whomever I see at my destination. Then it's OK.
• Can you chat up your seatmate? The public narrowly says yes (52%), because it's friendly. The public obviously didn't sit next to a guy I sat by last year who insisted on showing me hundreds (literally hundreds) of photos of his relatives. On his phone. Hundreds!  Brad says: I guess it's OK as long as you recognize the body language of "I don't want to talk." And you don't show 40 phone photos of your grandson playing a Little League baseball game.

So next time you fly, keep this in mind. The person by the window controls the shade, the person in the middle gets two armrests, don't rush off the plane or make an immediate phone call, and don't show me hundreds of photos on your phone.

And for crying out loud, don't try to bring a 3.5-ounce drink through security! A 3.4-ounce drink is fine, but more than that? Insanity!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Experts have a great idea to make recycling even more confusing

The experts want to make recycling even more confusing!

A recent Axios article brought what the writer and editors obviously thought was good news: Soon there would be QR codes to assist us with the "hyper-local" rules of recycling. 

When I read it, I nearly spit out my coffee, which made my next decision even more difficult: Can you recycle coffee if it includes spit?

The article said soon we will be able to use QR codes – those barcodes that an app can read to take you to a specific website – to determine how to determine whether you can recycle your yogurt container, cardboard box or insulation packaging. And where to put it.

Once you scan the code on the package, it will interact with the ZIP code you enter to tell you what type of recycling (or not) it is and in which bin you should put it.

Simple, right?

Nope. It sounds unnecessarily complicated and confusing.

I'm supposed to scan each item and see whether it goes in the Dumpster (where I live), the green recycling bin, the cardboard bin, or in one of the myriad other recycling options?

Each item. Individually.

If I sound grumpy, it's because recycling has become such guesswork. What goes to the landfill? What's recyclable and if so, what type of recycling is it? It keeps getting more confusing and just when you think you have it figured out ("OK, so pizza boxes can go with green recycling if there's no pizza left on them. But if there's any grease, it goes with the cardboard"), the rules change.

Pretty soon it becomes easier to just put stuff in the regular garbage, which defeats the purpose.

Most of us care about recycling, which is good. We need less garbage. We need to reuse as much as we can. But recycling rules are splitting into those who understand the rules and those who don't.

The experts are baffled and angry when we're confused about where to put our used Starbucks cups (Does it matter if there's coffee left? Do the lid and cup go in different places?). They're flabbergasted if we put plastic bags in the blue recycling bin because they have the recycling symbol. Don't we know better?

It feels like the recycling rules are constantly changing. Furthermore, what's recyclable in Fairfield might go in a different bin in Rio Vista.

According to the Axios article, the Recycling Partnership–a nonprofit focused on this issue–says 60% of us are confused by recycling rules. My guess is that the remaining 40% just throw everything in the trash, eliminating "confusion."

But now the advocates say there's a solution that will fix everything. We can have different rules in different places and there will be no problems. Put QR codes on everything. Then people will pull out their phones, scan the QR code and know what to do.

Except . . .

Most of us will struggle to remember how to use the QR code app. Then we'll forget that we're supposed to scan the code off the packaging, even if we can find it. Then we'll forget our ZIP code. Then we won't know which of the bins is "compost" and which is "recycle."

Why don't we just adopt universal recycling rules?

Why don't we stop having super-local recycling rules that change every three months?

Why don't we just have two or three bins, marked clearly.

Too easy? Well, this part is simple: if you're reading this in a physical newspaper, you can probably compost it.

You can recycle a plastic bag if it came in that.

Unless the bag is wet.

But if you're reading it online, your electronics must be recycled as e-waste.

Unless, of course, the rules are different where you live.

Or the rules have already changed.

Boy, that QR code will fix everything!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.