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| Everything. |
I loved this team- not just the logo as I had for as long as
I can remember, but these guys, going about their business in the way
they were, seemingly destined for something more than the Spring flameouts we
had become way to accustomed to over the past seven years. It was the love of
this group that had me out of my mind for two months like I hadn’t been over
this game before. It was these guys…and something even bigger that almost
brought down the walls of an Asheville, NC hotel room when they won it all.
This wasn’t my typical overly emotional self. This really
was different. But what was it? That’s a long answer and we have to go back a
very, very long time. All the way back to November.
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| Mike Johnston- Mr. Electricity |
By November the Penguins had become almost unwatchable.
Their coach was a clearly overmatched junior hockey guy who seemed to think
that since he made the jump from junior hockey to the top league in the world,
that he must be a genius. He applied his system to players who weren’t meant
for it and the system he put in place was like watching a slow death- not of just
a season, but of an era and ultimately, of an organization’s identity.
I went into a deep hole over my hockey team this fall
because it looked like the end for our core- Crosby, Malkin, Letang, and
Fleury. This group that won the Cup in the magical 2009 run just couldn’t
recapture it- they had become classic underachievers. Now, it seemed like this
would be it; one (or two) of them would have to go, and the Pens would have to
rebuild and end up like all of the other teams in a vanilla league- with a reliance
on systems and defense.
No one knew that they would in fact rebuild, their way,
and DURING THE SEASON.
What made my hole deeper was that the Pens were no longer
appointment viewing. Sure, I always had them on when I was home, but I was
doing other stuff during the games. I was treating the most passionate of games
like it was friggin’ baseball. I started going to games in 1984, Mario
Lemieux’s rookie year. I had a season ticket until 1995. I went to all the
playoff games in ’90 and ’91 when they won it all both times. Hockey to me was
Penguin hockey. It was fast, it was attacking, it was star driven,and it was
highly entertaining. This type of hockey is what we expect in Pittsburgh.
So, when I was watching Crosby and Malkin play 200 feet,
fighting
through the muck of the NHL in order to execute a junior hockey
coach’s system, I was bored. Not only where they dull, they were losing- and I
was sickened by it all. Not only was the window closing on such promise, but
they were going out with a whimper. They were the New Jersey Devils, but
instead of boring the world to death on the way to Stanley Cups, they bored us
to death and plain stunk.
It was a bleak fall to say the least. It didn’t start out this way though. There was genuine excitement about Phil Kessel’s acquisition last summer. People were talking about the KHL guy, Sergei Plotnikov, as a possible breakout player. David Peron was going to finally live up that potential. Beau Bennet was going to stay healthy. Bobby Farnham was a revelation! Nick Bonino would make us forget about Brandon Sutter (boy did he, but not at first).
Adam Clendening would be the steal of that Sutter trade. Rob
Scuderi would be the anchor (more like an anvil). But all that really happened
here was that Uncle Phil started to catch heat like he did in Toronto. Of
course he ever had a chance in the 200 feet of hell system the Pens were
playing. None of them did.
It wasn’t all the system, though. These guys stunk on merit.
Not only that, it was like they were skating in mud. They were slow and they
were listless. No quick feet, no fire for the game they all loved. I wasn’t the
only one in a hole.
They say that it’s always darkest before the dawn and boy
was that the case with this team. On December 8, after courageous attempts to
return from a blood clot, Pascal Dupuis retired. Duper embodied the passion and
energy these Penguins were once known for and now his playing career was
extinguished. Well, if that didn’t sum up this season…
Then, just four days later, Mike Johnston was mercifully
shown the door and everything changed. I was optimistic about Mike Sullivan’s
promotion from the Wilkes Bare farm team- I had read glowing reviews on his
command of his teams, I had actually heard of the guy, and even remembered him
as a serviceable NHL player in his day. This had to be an improvement, right?
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| Sully- Clearly in Charge |
Not only was Sullivan a commanding presence, one that
wouldn’t take the country club atmosphere and who wouldn’t handle his stars
with kid gloves, he had an actual plan to fit the team he was going to coach. A
revelation! Turns out, he got a two week heads-up from GM Jim Rutherford
(something we found out after the season) and boy did he make use of that time.
Let the stars be stars. Hallelujah! Play to your strengths.
Amen! Seems simple enough, but remember that the NHL had deteriorated over the
past 15 or so years from skill-driven to system-driven. The beautiful game that
the Soviets invented (look it up if you don’t believe me) had been taken over
by the old zone by zone, systematic game- the Canadian game of the pre-Soviet
area. Blah!
A player from those great Red Army teams said that the
problem with the NHL was that third and fourth liners (or guys who never played
in the NHL) had too many of the coaching jobs. He thought that these guys
coached their teams in a way that would allow them to succeed if they
were playing. The result was systems hockey designed to get the most out of
mediocre hockey players. I agree with this assessment and contend that stifling
the league’s best selling points, speed and creativity, is total madness- the
type of madness the lands your league on the outdoor network.
While Sullivan’s approach was a revelation, his team was too
slow to execute the way he wanted. That’s where Jim Rutherford stepped in. In a
series of moves that won him the league’s General Manager of the Year award and
made him a Pittsburgh legend, JR overhauled the team’s roster while the train
that is an NHL season was barreling down the tracks.
For the Penguins to make the most of their talent and to
have their best chance at beating the bigger but slower teams in the league,
they had to get faster. With a series of moves, the team went from old Buick
speed to experimental aircraft speed and it changed everything.
On December 14 JR pulled off the steal of the century. He
was able to send Rob Scuderi- the lead-footed dinosaur with the salary cap
nightmare contract to the Chicago Blackhawks. Getting a bag of pucks in
exchange would have been a win, but instead the return was Trevor Daley- one of
the best skating defensemen in the league. Daley, for whatever reason, fell
out of favor in Chicago and they were looking to dump the puck moving
defenseman. This was a deal...and steal for the ages.
On January 7, Brian Rust and Tom Khuhnhackl were recalled
for the minors- this time for good. Another move that would have huge
consequences. Not only could these guys skate, especially Rust, but since
Sullivan coached them in Wilkes Bare, he knew just how to use them. On March 6,
the final permanent call up was made with Conor Sheary’s addition. More speed
and skill added to a potent mix.
On January 16, in the middle of the night and at his coach’s
insistance, Rutherford sent David Peron and Adam Clendening to Anaheim for Carl
Hagelin. Of all the moves, this was the biggest. There is speed and then there
is Carl Hagelin speed. The addition of one of the league’s fastest players
would change the course of history. Penguin fans knew this was huge because as
a Ranger, number 62 lived in our nightmares and now he was ours. Not only was
he a huge boost to the their top six forward core, but also to their penalty
killing as Hagelin is one of the league’s best. But all that would be foot note
compared to what was come.
The final addition from the outside came on February 27 with
the addition of Justin Shultz. Mired in failure in Edmonton and in desperate
need of a change of scenery, Shultz brought more speed and offense to a defense
core that wasn’t especially physical, but as they would show in the playoffs, you
don’t need to be overly physical when you win most of the races to the puck.
By March 11, the Penguins had started to show the signs of a
resurgence, but all that seemed to go out the window with Evgeni Malkin’s elbow
injury that would sideline him for the remainder of the regular season (plus
one playoff game). I remember thinking that this was it, they won’t make the
playoffs and Penguin hockey would soon come to an end. It was doomsday.
Instead, the Penguins went 13-2 down the stretch and entered
the playoffs as the league’s hottest team and never looked back. In the
process, they discovered three letters that gave them the depth that no team
had an answer for- H.B.K.
There is little question that without Malkin’s injury, there
is no putting Hagelin, Nick Bonino, and Phil Kessel together. There is also
little question that without the HBK line, there is no Stanley Cup. I don’t
know how to explain this, other than to say that the stars aligned and in doing
so, they saved Penguin hockey.
It should be noted that without Marc-Andre Fleury, this
turnaround doesn’t happened. When the Penguins were terrible, The Flower kept
them in the playoff race. We probably won’t see Marc as the number one goalie
again in Pittsburgh and his trade is pretty much inevitable at this point, but
no one should forget that without him, there is no Stanley Cup this year or in
2009 for that matter.
What should also be noted is that a fast, attacking style is
not all Mike Sullivan instilled in this team. He instilled the antidote to the
Achilles heel of just about every Pens team from the past seven years- the
propensity to come unglued mentally and fall into the trap of trying to win a
tough guy contest every time an opposing team lured them there.
Very quickly, Sullivan’s team started skating away from the
ploys that worked so many times in the past and they never wavered from their
new disciplined approach. This was nothing short of a miracle…well maybe that’s hyperbole, but changing this long established
habit was some of the finest coaching I've ever seen.
Going into the playoffs, the scene was set for the Penguins
to win their fourth Stanley Cup, for a core group to save their legacy, and
even more important in the long run, for a franchise to preserve its identity.
The scene was also set for me to live and die along the way because deep down,
I was aware of all that was at stake. Never did a playoff run feel more
important.
If you've read this far, I will spare you a recap of the run
to the Cup. You know exactly what
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| Phil the Thrill- Stanley Cup Champion |
You were amazed at the heroics of Sheary and Rust and the
heart of Hornqvist. You know Matt Murray joined NHL royalty with 15 rookie
playoff wins. Maybe you realized, like I did, that Sidney Crosby is unlike any
superstar we have seen before. That despite his lower than expected offensive
output he made it very clear that he is, by far, the most complete player on
the planet and the game’s best leader. This list could go on and on…this team
and this run was just that special.
Instead, let’s go back to game four of the Capitals series,
where my story began. The Pens had a chance to go up 3-1 versus the undisputed
Cup favorites, but were missing the straw that stirs the drink in Kris Letang.
I felt very strongly that if they won this game, despite this key absence, that
they would win the Cup. It must have been because of those deep feelings about
what this run meant, because I was a trainwreck from this game until the clock
struck all zeros in San Jose.
They did win game four versus the Caps. They did win the
Stanley Cup. But in between those games, the rollercoaster was almost too much
for me. I gave serious consideration to dialing back my emotional investment,
like I have with the Steelers. At the time, I didn’t understand what I was
feeling. It was just do or die, in my view. Maybe I am wrong, maybe they
wouldn’t have traded Malkin in the offseason and hired another NHL retread to
coach systems, but I believed in my heart that these types of monumental
changes be the cost of falling short. It was what I was resigned to in
November, but then the miraculous turnaround happened. They had come too far.
There was so much at stake.
When Kris Letang had the shift of his life that Sunday night
in San Jose and scored the game winner I could feel it coming- this core group
wouldn’t fall short. When they held the Sharks and their hungry, veterans
Thornton, Marleau, Burns, and Pavelski to TWO shots in the third period and
completed their dream, the fact that this group could do whatever it took to
win it all was certain. When Sidney Crosby lifted that cup and when he gaive it
to Mario to hoist for the fourth time, there was no doubt left, Penguin hockey
was here to stay. Forever.
That night in Ashville, celebrating wildly with my family, I
shed a few tears and I felt such an incredible relief and now I understand why-
because this one, for reasons well beyond the surface, was really special.
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