Draft Day is Coming

     

    Every year, on NHL draft day, young men in new suits sit anxiously with their parents in stiff-backed arena seats, waiting for older men in more expensive suits to decide their fates. Some wait for hours before hearing their names called. Some leave in tears of disappointment. The first-rounders have been wined and dined, measured and tested, and their wait is a short one. They're the kids with the highest chance of making the pros. They're also the ones who'll forever carry the "bust" label if they don't get there. Watching at home, Terry Ryan has flashbacks.

     The draft, for him, isn't just a great memory. It's the highlight of his pro hockey career, even if it didn't work out the way he'd hoped it would.
    "A lot of people would say it's a whirlwind and they don't remember," he smiles. "I remember every second of it. I remember walking down out of my seat. The first thing I did was look over at my buddy, my linemate, Daymond Langkow, who had just gone fifth overall to Tampa Bay. I was walking up to the podium (as the eighth overall pick) and we made eye contact and nothing was really said. We were just smiling, and it was a really weird moment."

    "It was kind of like a baseball player getting drafted and going to the Yankees. I think if I'd gone to the Nashville Predators, or to Columbus...not to knock those teams, but...it wouldn't have...I didn't have time that day to accept that I was drafted by the Montreal Canadiens."

                     🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    Ryan knew he was going to go high in the first round. His stock had been rising fast during his draft year. It was, he recalls, a perfect season. He had 110 points in 70 games, and most of the pro teams were knocking on his door.
    "I know I could have played my whole career in the NHL," he reflects now. "All those scouts weren't wrong. At the same time, I also know everything has to go right. There's a bit of luck in this. There's a lot of injuries in hockey. If you get injured in your draft year, you're behind the eight-ball right away. You have to be put with good players. You have to be in the right environment. Your schooling has to be going right. All those things went right in my draft year."
    The Bruins, choosing ninth overall, had been in contact. They assured Ryan they'd pick him in the first round. Other teams called too. The Washington Capitals flew him and some other prospects down south and put them through three hours of I.Q. tests and physical training. The Oilers flew them back up north and tested them again. There was no question Ryan would become the highest-ever NHL draft pick from Newfoundland. The only thing left to wonder about on draft day was how high he'd go, and which team would own him.
    He never dreamed he'd be chosen by his favourite NHL team, and, even as a cocky kid minutes away from hearing his name called, had no reason to think the Habs were his destiny.
    "I was in the elevator on the way to my seat with my dad and a couple of more, and Doug Robinson, who was the head scout for Montreal. Montreal was one of the only teams that didn't interview me at all. Nothing. So, I didn't really expect to talk to them. San Jose was picking twelfth and they told me they were picking me," Ryan remembers. 

    "So, anyway, in the elevator, the draft was just starting and I was actually late to my seat. Doug Robinson said "Congrats on a good year. Western Hockey League power forward. I like to see that." I said, "Thanks Mr.Robinson. I think a lot of your organization." And on the way off the elevator he said, "Congrats on a good Memorial Cup." 

    "And I said, "Jeez, I didn't play in the Memorial Cup." So, I went a little closer to try and get a read on him, and I said, "Okay, Mr.Robinson, I'll see you." And he said, "Okay, thanks Shane." So, fifteen minutes before they drafted me, the Canadiens thought I was Shane Doan, by appearance."

                   🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    The team got the name right when the Canadiens staff took the podium to announce the eighth overall pick. Terry Ryan was overwhelmed. He'd been taken by his favourite team in the first round, and life couldn't have been better. He says now, that's as good as it got. 

    Ryan spent the next year back in junior where he had a decent season, despite some injury problems. During the following campaign, the second after his draft, he finally got the phone call of his dreams and made his NHL debut. It didn't work out the way dreams are supposed to.
    "The guys who drafted me got fired," he recalls. "I was a long shot for them. I wasn't the best skater. I had a lot of character. And I could score. But the times I was called up, it was because someone was hurt, it wasn't because they wanted me." 

    "I got maybe three shifts a game. In the minors, I was rookie of the year. I had 20 goals, I lead the league in fights. Everything I was doing in the minors was, if not on pace, then above expectations from what anybody thought."

    At the NHL level, Ryan ran into head coach Michel Therrien and they didn't get along.

    "Years later, I look back and I'm not as bitter as I was. At the time, I was pretty upset. I was getting called up, getting one shift and I'd fight Tie Domi. I'd do it. I'd fight these guys because I wanted to make the most of my opportunity. There were over ten games in the NHL when I didn't even get one shift, and they don't even count as a game played. That happens to a lot of people."

                 🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    After the first few games in the NHL, injuries struck. First, concussions, then a busted ankle. Frustrated at never getting a real shot with the Canadiens, Ryan took his agent, Mike Barnett's, advice and sat out training camp. He never played in the NHL again. He's not bitter now, but getting past the feeling of being a disappointment to himself and his family was a long trip down a bumpy road.
    "It was hard at first," Ryan admits. "It's a long story. I got to see the world from the other side for a while, and it was wild. I was the biggest prospect in Newfoundland. I was talked about as the best player on the island. I had all those things going for me."

    "When I got hurt, I felt like I let the whole province down. It took a while. I got divorced the same year I was told I couldn't play anymore. I put on sixty pounds and went on a reality show and lost it. It was a long, long, long story. It was hard to deal with, but at the same time, my dad, who played pro hockey, said, "Hey, you could have got injured when you were 14 or 15. But you played in the NHL. You played for the Canadiens.""
    That's what matters to Ryan now. He regrets skipping that last training camp, but he's come to terms with the way his NHL career panned out...or didn't. And he's still a Habs fan.
    "Recently, in the last couple of years, I've flown up and gone to the Habs games, and you're reminded when you go to the building. There's six or seven hundred names there outside. The players. I was one of them. When you think about it like that, it's kind of mind blowing," he muses.
    "One thing I would tell young players is there's so much more than the NHL. There's so many opportunities, and the small percentage that make the NHL...they're to be commended and looked up to. But there are a lot of avenues that young players can take. I look at my whole experience as "Wow! This all happened to me!" And I can't believe it," Ryan marvels now, decades after he became a first rounder. "The draft ended up being the highlight of my career. That and my first NHL game. Those things still happened and they were still great."
    These days, Ryan does some acting, podcasting and stand-up comedy. He's a father and also the author of "Tales of a First Round Nothing," his autobiography. The book's title is tongue-in-cheek because Ryan knows a lot of fans write him off as a failure.

    However, when Terry Ryan watches the draft now, he can still feel those teenage emotions; the hope, trepidation and wonder of it all. The thing he feels most now is quiet satisfaction. His NHL career was short...only eight games...but in the big picture, he knows he made it after all.

Blessing For a Warrior Going Out

         

     In the ancient days of Celtic lore, a warrior leaving home to fight battles elsewhere would kneel at the feet of his elders and accept a blessing, calling on the earth, the elements and the gods to protect him and ensure his timely return. One such traditional blessing goes:

    "We bathe your palms

    In the showers of wine,

    In the crook of the kindling,

    In the seven elements,

    In the sap of the tree,

    In the milk of honey,

    We place nine pure, choice gifts

    In your clear beloved face:

    The gift of form,

    The gift of voice,

    The gift of fortune,

    The gift of goodness,

    The gift of eminence,

    The gift of charity,

    The gift of integrity,

    The gift of true nobility,

    The gift of apt speech."

    In the realm of the Montreal Canadiens, nobody has a bigger heart, more devotion to the sweater or is a tougher warrior than Brendan Gallagher. From the first time he suited up in Habs colours, he threw himself into the fray every night with everything he had. The fresh-faced kid...an undersized fifth-round draft pick...burst onto the scene with a homing pigeon's instinct for the net, a willingness to take more physical punishment than a red-white-and-blue pinata and a shit-eating grin that drove opponents crazy.

    He evolved from goofy, energetic rookie to battle-hardened, bloody-nosed competitor. He became a team leader and role model for the young Canadiens who are now trying to build themselves into a championship winner. He's been, as an Irish mom would say, "Like the capelin: all guts."

    Gallagher grew from boy to man in Montreal. His teammates surrounded him and held him up after the death of his mother. He married and became a father as a Canadien. Never did he forget the importance of the team to his adopted city.

         🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    A few years ago, Gallagher and the Canadiens came to Newfoundland to play in the Hockeyville exhibition game the NHL holds each year. The team had chartered three buses to transport the players and all their gear to the rink.

    Gallagher arrived on the first bus, and there was already a gang of kids there, anxiously waiting for a glimpse of their heroes. Many players smiled and waved as they passed through the crowd to the arena doors, but number 11 stopped. He signed every hand, sweater, photo and scrap of paper shoved at him. He posed for dozens of photos with young fans and took the time to ask them about their own hockey teams. He was genuinely nice to every person he met.

    Once inside, Gallagher was one of the two players (Cole Caufield was the other) who handled the media availability. Arena staff hauled out a couple of wooden boxes so the vertically challenged duo could see over the heads of all the camera people. Gally stayed until every reporter got what he or she needed before heading for the dressing room to suit up. After practice, there he was again, patiently answering some of the same questions from another group of hacks.

    There was no question, at that time, that Gallagher was the heart and soul veteran of the team who would do anything asked of him.

         🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    Fast forward to today. As hard as Gallagher smiled at his first training camp, he cried just as hard when announcing he's leaving his hockey home. After becoming a healthy scratch toward the end of the season, he barely saw ice in the playoffs.

    With the realization that the coaching staff obviously doesn't feel he's got anything more to give, Gally is facing a new reality he's seen up close in teammates who left before him. He thinks of himself as still having something left in the tank, even if Habs management doesn't agree. He sounds, like any warrior would, as though he still has something to prove to the people who don't want him anymore.

    Canadiens fans wish the player and the person a chance to give it one more shot. If anyone deserves a new start, it's Gallagher.

    "Gallagher is a player on Montreal that I admire," said the late Claude Lemieux. "He plays a lot of the same game I played. Especially for a player of his size he plays with tenacity. He's physical, he's in your face and he won't back down. Players that have that character will go far in the playoffs."

    Gallagher didn't get to repeat the Habs run to the Finals in 2021 and, if he goes to Vancouver as he's suggested is a possibility, a Stanley Cup is probably not in his future. Still, for a guy who statistically should never even have seen 14 NHL regular seasons, he's got of lot of which to be proud.

    As he walks away from the Canadiens' room for the last time, he should know all of Montreal and fans everywhere send him off with a warrior's blessing.

Regular Season Beauty and the Playoff Beast

          

    When you think about Claude Lemieux, you think about the playoffs. From very early in his hockey career, he was the kind of player who somehow performed on a higher plane when the pressure was on and the games really meant something. In 27 junior playoff games, Lemieux racked up 61 points. In 1985 he was the playoff MVP in the Q, which foreshadowed his future NHL post-season dominance.

    And, Lemieux didn't just raise his own game when it counted most. His passion inspired the players around him to be better too, which was reflected in the world junior gold-medal team, the Canada Cup winner and four Stanley Cup champions for which he's played. In later years with his playing days behind him, he spent springs watching others try to do what came so naturally to him. 
    "There's a lot of really good teams," he acknowledged. "Unfortunately, only one can win. In the East, it's gonna come down to goaltending...always. It'll come down to the team that is great on special teams and stays healthy. I like the Canadiens right now because they're one of the healthiest, and they've got great goaltending. They could go a very long way."

                                🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    Lemieux knew well the feeling of winning in Montreal. As a 20-year-old rookie in 1986, he scored 10 goals in 20 games to play a vital role in securing the franchise's 23rd Stanley Cup. 
    "I played, I believe, the last 8 or 10 games of the regular season. People ask if I felt the pressure of playing for the Montreal Canadiens in the playoffs. I was just numb. I was just happy to be there. I was excited about the opportunity. I was always a pretty good tournament performer in my youth hockey career and that translated really well to the next level. Obviously, we had a wonderful run and ended up winning the Stanley Cup in my first year," Lemieux recalled.
    He won three other Stanley Cups, with New Jersey and Colorado, taking home the Conn Smythe trophy as the MVP of the 1995 playoffs. His 19 game-winning playoff goals are third all time, behind only Wayne Gretzky and Brett Hull. 

    He was unusual in that his average point production over his career was higher in the playoffs than in the regular season. 
    "It becomes a real true war of physical play, mental strength and just how bad you want it," he said. "And that's why I think my game suited playoffs a little bit better than regular season play. Other guys just disliked me even more, so mentally I was probably a pain to be facing for a six or seven game series, so they probably were glad to go home and not face me any more," he said with a wry laugh, referencing his chippy, abrasive, irritating style.
    With all those Cup wins and special moments over 18 playoff seasons, you'd think it would have been tough for Lemieux to pick a personal favourite. When asked though, he immediately recalled a goal most Habs fans of a certain age will remember as well, scored in Montreal during that very first run to the title.
    "I always say the biggest goal I ever scored was against Hartford in, I think it was double overtime, Game 7," he explained. "I'm always going to remember that goal as my most exciting, memorable goal. I still remember scoring it and skating toward the bench and diving on the ice with all my teammates on top of me."

     "It really struck me what it meant to win in Montreal when Larry Robinson was the last guy to congratulate me and he was hugging me and he wouldn't let go. It was just he and I pretty much left on the ice and he just kept hugging me, then he let go and I saw he had tears in his eyes. He was crying. I thought, this is crazy. This man has won so many Stanley Cups already and he's been around forever. But that is what winning does for you, and that's what it means to be a Montreal Canadien. It's quite special."

                               🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    Lemieux said with his post-season record, he was often asked what it takes to be a winner. 
    "I say a lot of guys are born winners and they won't take no for an answer. Others can be converted. They can learn. It's something you can teach," he said. "It's easier to teach young players than older players, but then, I knew older players who didn't have the opportunity to win when they were younger. Bobby Carpenter, for example. He was a gifted goal scorer who'd lost a bit of speed and touch, and he learned to take on a different role as a checker. He took on a different role and became a winner, and he's forever a winner," Lemieux said.
    Before his sudden death just three days after carrying the torch into the Bell Centre, he was hoping the Canadiens could surprise the hockey world like they did during his rookie season. He knew good goaltending, good health and a solid lineup are important, and the Habs have those things, but the real secret ingredient to a long run is something he never lacked: belief.
    "I don't think it's magic. I think everything runs downhill. From the top down, if you have winners at the top, it starts to spread. Losing spreads through your locker room quickly, but so does winning," he said. "Playoffs are always very exciting. There are surprises and players nobody knows about who play really well, and goaltenders and players who make a name for themselves. Playoffs are great."
    If anybody knew the truth of that, it was Claude Lemieux.

Heartbreak

     

    There are many times in the course of a Stanley Cup playoff run when your heart breaks a little: Losing a tight game you deserved to win. Failing to play your game when you really need to bring it. Having a goal called back because the refs take out the tape measure on an offside review. Getting blown out at home in a potential series clincher.

    The Canadiens have lived through every one of those situations this spring and managed to find a way to fight back. They have every opportunity to do it again in this Carolina series.

    However, perhaps the most heartbreaking moment of these playoffs was watching Lane Hutson stand there after the game and say "It would be nice to be up 2-1, but we’re not because of me, so it’s frustrating." He followed that brutal self-assessment with an apology to goalie Jakub Dobes, saying "Sucks that I just blew it for him."

    Hutson is keen to be accountable for the loss, but it was far, far from his fault. There would have been no overtime at all if he hadn't scored on the power play to even things at two. If his teammates had more than 13 shots or could bury a breakaway, Hutson might never have been in a position to make the play that led to the game winner for Carolina. They didn't and they couldn't, and that left the team's best player (aside from maybe Dobes) feeling like he should have done more. It's hard to imagine how he could.

    The 22-year-old has 15 points in 17 playoff games. He plays almost thirty minutes a game (28:55 in Game Three) and he defends brilliantly against the other team's toughest players. He's been a target all playoffs, his 162 pounds absorbing hit after hit, including a terrible knee-on-knee collision with Taylor Hall in Game Two that obviously really hurt. Still, watching him work his skating magic, you'd never know it.

                                🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    If Hutson doubts himself, he can make an exercise of imagining the Canadiens without him. It's hard to believe it's been only two years since he signed his first NHL contract because he's such an entrenched part of the team now. He's the first Calder Trophy winner the Habs have had since Ken Dryden in 1971. His 78 points this season were a major reason why the team made the playoffs in a squeaky-tight Atlantic division. He's mature for his age, a visionary and creative genius on the ice. He's the only one on the team who'd think to crawl in behind his goalie to help him protect the post during a scrum. 

    Other teams target Hutson because they know he drives the Canadiens' offence more than any other player. Even when he doesn't record a point on a play, he's constantly moving the puck out of danger, making impossible passes or stripping an attacker to prevent a scoring chance. If the team can't muster up more than a handful of shots, it's certainly not down to Hutson.

    No, there are many issues with the way the Canadiens are playing, especially at home, but Lane Hutson's performance is definitely not one of them. He's probably the hardest worker on the team, first on the ice every day even during optional practices. There's little more he can do to drive his team forward.

    Hopefully, today, Hutson's teammates will listen to their superstar blaming himself for the loss and realize how little they did to help him. Perhaps a little introspection might help them focus on playing their best instead of just watching him play his game. If the Canadiens are to advance to the Stanley Cup Finals, a lot of players will have to be better in Game Four.

    Lane Hutson does not.

    

    

For the Good of the Game

    

    On May 16, 1976, Montreal Canadiens captain Yvan Cournoyer emerged from a celebratory throng, lifting the Stanley Cup over his head, grinning big enough to put the Cheshire Cat to shame. He circled the ice at the Philadelphia Spectrum, trailed by teammates awaiting their turn to touch the coveted chalice. The win completed a sweep of the Flyers, who'd won the previous two Cups in their then-incarnation as the Broad Street Bullies.

    Philly had some good players in Bobby Clarke and Reggie Leach, but they made their reputation for fierceness on the fists of Dave Schultz, Battleship Kelly and their fellow goons. They won because every other team in the league was afraid to play them. That is, until the Canadiens turned the tide by developing a very different game and imposing their will on the truculent Flyers. In the months and years since that victory of skill, speed and sportsmanship over bullying and intimidation, more than one observer has credited the Canadiens for saving the game from an overall descent into Philly hockey.

    "This is not only a victory for the Canadiens; it is a victory for hockey," Serge Savard said that night at the Spectrum. "I hope that this era of intimidation and violence that is hurting our national sport is coming to an end. Young people have seen that a team can play electrifying, fascinating hockey while still behaving like gentlemen."

    "And if they had won the third Stanley Cup in a row, then we could see that it was going to revert back into a lot more fighting," recalls Steve Shutt years later. "And I think it would have put the game back 5 or 10 years. So us going in there and winning that particular series, I think really, really benefited the game in general."

    "We wanted to win the Cup in Philadelphia and I think that was a real legacy for that hockey team; the start of something that took it to a new level," Doug Risebrough remembers. "The Flyers won with that kind of aggressive, fighting, beat-you-up-for-checking type game. And I don't think people in our room believed that that was the way the game should have been played."

    "And I'm not belittling what the Flyers did because they won Cups, but the Montreal Canadiens were going to win it different than that. We weren't going to win it the way they had won it. We didn't adjust to their style. We were going to win it differently with skating, offence, attention to the detail and defence."

    "Everybody follows the champion and every team wants to be like the champion," said Ken Dryden.

    "And as the Flyers were winning, everybody wanted to be like the Flyers. And I think it was important that we won."

    "I mean there there are good teams, there are great teams and there are important teams and there are a lot of Stanley Cup winners and a lot of them are great teams or near-great teams. There are not very many that are also important teams. And I think the Montreal Canadians of that time were also a very important team."

    The Canadiens of that era, essentially, saved NHL hockey from itself.

                       🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    Now, fifty years later, the Canadiens face a similar challenge. 

    These days, the NHL is a business more than at any other time in its history. Between constant gambling ads, players' outside business interests, pointless franchises in pointless markets and inequitable officiating (including from the so-called office of player safety), the game is at risk of losing its soul once again.

    It's especially true this year with the Vegas Golden Knights one game away from making the Stanley Cup Final on the back of goalie Carter Hart. Hart is one of the 2018 Canadian World Junior players who were charged with sexual assault against a young woman in London, Ontario. The players ended up being acquitted because the judge didn't believe the complainant, despite compelling evidence.

    A team with a soul would look at the situation and question the wisdom in signing a guy with that background hanging over him. At the very least, it would put his judgement at being in that position and failing to stop it into question. A team with a soul doesn't hire Carter Hart.

    The NHL today is willing to ban rainbow stick tape to appease a few homophobic critics. It's willing to sell itself to the highest sports-betting company. It allows the Stanley Cup to visit the fascist US White House. And it's willing to give players who are involved in abusive situations second chances to restart lucrative hockey careers.

    These Canadiens are not today's NHL. 

    The first thing Jeff Gorton and Kent Hughes look for is character. Logan Mailloux got into trouble in Sweden as a 17-year-old by taking and sharing non-consensual photos of a sex act with a young woman. He played a total of eight games for the Habs before they shifted him to St.Louis. Even if he paid a price for his past, he didn't belong with this group. Hughes wants to know the players he hires are good people, unlikely to get caught up in scandal. He wants them to have a soul.

    If the Canadiens are lucky enough to make the Finals this year, it'll be on them to show the league what a real, tight, clean-cut team looks like. They'll show that even in this age of social media and so many outside influences, a group of young men can come together in sincerity and with a common purpose to beat out the glitzy, controversial, Bettman-sponsored McTeams he's foisted on the league.

    It's time for the Canadiens to save hockey, again.

    

Wolves

     

    Just after Game Seven against the Lighting in the first round of the post-season, the Montreal Canadiens were in their dressing room, happy and exhausted. The Habs had come in as underdogs against the playoff-hardened Bolts and the series was a tight-checking slog. Most of the players were sitting in their stalls getting undressed when coach Martin St.Louis walked in. The room was quiet as he began his postgame speech. That didn't last long. Channeling Leonardo DiCaprio from the Wolf of Wall Street, he injected a dose of his own joy and passion into the guys in the room.

    It was an appropriate choice. 

    "I just feel like they’re a pack, they’re so together," St.Louis said just before the playoffs. "They just love each other. They got each other’s backs. They celebrate everyone. It’s a very selfless group."

    "Marty talks about having a pack mentality, so wolf’s a big theme," says captain Nick Suzuki. That theme inspired him to buy the now-infamous wolf head hat the players award to each win's MVP.

                          🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    Ten years ago, Jeff Gorton was general manager of the New York Rangers. St.Louis was newly retired from the team, but Gorton thought he had the makings of a future coach and wanted to keep him around. He offered St.Louis the head coaching job of the Rangers AHL affiliate, the Hartford Wolf Pack. St.Louis declined. Hartford didn't appeal to him, but the "wolf pack" idea certainly did. The pack mentality concept underpins his coaching philosophy. 

    Shane Mahoney has been a wildlife biologist for decades, and he knows pack behaviour intimately.

    "So the pack becomes essentially an extended family," he explains. "It's the pups of previous years and the pups of this year and so on that work together as a cooperative unit. So they have this very strong genetic tie but they also have an extraordinary range of cooperative behaviour and communication abilities."

    The pups of previous years...cooperative behaviour...communication. Sound familiar?

                          🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    "This communication allows wolves to capture prey species that are much larger than themselves and which would be just impossible for a single wolf to to kill," Mahoney continues. "The wolf pack is so successful because it is so coordinated. They have enormous intelligence and they have developed these extraordinary behaviors for cohesion, cooperative behavior and also hierarchies."

    Just like a hockey team, the wolf pack has individuals that play different roles within the group.

    "Some of the of the wolves tend to be the individuals that may do more of the hard-on attacking when they finally close in on prey," Mahoney says. "Because with the extended family structure, you have some that are small in that given year, right? They were only born in that year. They don't have the size, the body mass and so on to be the real attack animals. But they can harry. they can chase, they can wear down the prey."

    "You also have the mature animals that are much more capable in terms of dispatching the prey through chokeholds or whatever other kind of particular killing technique that they are actually using. So there's no question that there is a hierarchy of behavior and different roles played by the wolves. The more experienced, larger bodied, more capable wolves are at the front and centre of the actual physical engagement with the prey"

    Wolf packs don't just communicate and cooperate while hunting, either. Just like a hockey team should, they also defend together. 

     "Of course the pack defends itself as a pack and it defends just as importantly, its prey as a pack," Mahoney says. "And there's just not that many other animals that are really capable of stealing prey from a wolf."

    "You have this really quite extraordinary kind of emotional and physical link that we could call loyalty. We could call it many things, but the truth of the matter is they stick together. They work together, they fight together and essentially they live entirely like a little moving community across the landscape. In terms of the big fundamental aspects of behaviour and capacities like intelligence or empathy, wolves are a lot like us."

    And we are a lot like them.

    Shane Mahoney calls the Canadiens a wolf pack on skates. Turns out Marty St.Louis doesn't just know hockey. He understands nature as well.

    

The Honorary Newfoundlander

     

    Today, as we celebrate the Canadiens moving on to the third round of the playoffs, Newfoundland's Alex Newhook is the name on everybody's lips. The young man has seven goals, including two Game Seven winners in fourteen games. He's the native son everybody in his home province is hoping will bring the Cup back for a second time in his young career. However, many of his fans don't know he's not the only Newfoundland connection to this Canadiens' team. Just before embarking on his second year coaching the Habs, Martin St.Louis became an honorary Newfoundlander too. Here's the story.

                                 🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

On a gorgeous fall evening in October, the usual crowd gathered in the Legion hall in tiny Gander, Newfoundland. A few down-on-their luck guys were playing video slots. A pair of couples sat drinking local beer at a wobbly table under bright, fluorescent lights. A trio of people chatted with the bored-looking bartender, while one guy played pool against himself. Otherwise, the place was quiet and empty.

    Heads turned when the door opened and strangers...a whole gang of them...strolled in. They were mostly young men; tall, fit, loud and energetic. Obviously, they were some sort of team.

    It turned out the visitors were the Montreal Canadiens training and equipment staff, in town with the team for a Kraft Hockeyville exhibition game against the Ottawa Senators. On the night before the game, they were out for some fun and to be screeched in.

    A screech-in is a silly game for tourists in Newfoundland, in which you become an honorary citizen by reciting a local phrase, drinking a shot of dark rum Screech and kissing a codfish, hosted by a local emcee.

    It wasn't a big deal to the regulars at the Legion. Screech-ins happen there fairly often over the summer, so nobody really paid much attention. Or, they didn't until another group arrived shortly behind the first. This time, their eyes followed one of the newcomers, knowing they'd seen him somewhere before.

    Marty St.Louis, casual in dark jeans, navy sweater and white-collared shirt, blended in with the rest of the crowd. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing there; only that the training guys said they were going and he decided to tag along. The rest of the coaching staff came with him.

    That was unusual. A couple of the trainers said most of the time on the road the coaches keep to themselves. Mixing in with the trainers and equipment guys normally doesn't happen, and it signaled to them the start of a different kind of team reality.

    The screech-in proceeded with the jokes, the recitation of the Newfoundland phrases, the rum and the codfish. Although a bit bemused, St.Louis played along in the spirit of the thing. He willingly drank the rot-gut rum and kissed the frozen fish, with a big smile. As more than one attendee explained, "That's just Marty."

                                  🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    A few years ago, Forbes magazine published an article called 7 Things That Make Great Bosses Unforgettable. The first item on the list: great bosses are passionate.

    Vincent Lecavalier played in Tampa for twelve years with St.Louis, and counts him as a friend and mentor.

    "That's probably one of his biggest things," he says. "If you talk about Marty St.Louis, that's what it is. Passion. Determination. That's something he brought as a player and obviously as a coach now. He loves what he does. He's hockey. That's his life. I loved hockey. I loved a lot of things about hockey. But to be a coach, to do that game in and game out, it takes a special kind of person."

    Mike Gilligan agrees. St.Louis joined his University of Vermont squad in 1993, and immediately impressed the coach.

    "I have to give him the highest ranks in passion," he says. "When he was a younger player in college, he was almost too passionate and losses hurt him so. He expected a lot from himself. He enjoyed the game so much, he didn't want to play poorly or have his teammates play poorly. He didn't like it if he thought they weren't respecting the sport and respecting every minute they had to enjoy that sport. He was the heart and soul of my teams for four years. Passion is one of his great traits."

    Number two on the Forbes list of excellent boss traits is "standing in front of the bus." In other words, the opposite of throwing players under the bus when things aren't going well. Gilligan says St.Louis ticks that box as well.

    "When he was hired up there last year, I said to myself, one thing he won't do is embarrass his players," he remembers. "He'll back them up, and he'll do one on ones with them if he has anything serious to say. He won't make a spectacle or coach through the media. He'll be right up front with these guys. He's not gonna blame anybody else except himself if things go wrong. He takes the hits. He'll own everything."

    Third on the Forbes list: "They play chess, not checkers." That is to say, they recognize not all pieces of their teams are interchangeable. They each have a specific set of traits that can be applied in a situation, and there are situations when a particular team member cannot be used.

    "Marty has been in every situation," says Lecavalier. "He's been a fourth liner, he's been an American Leaguer, he's been everything. He relates to everybody because he's been through it all. He can relate to a fourth liner. He can related to that guy who's gonna be up and down all year. He can relate to the top player. The only thing he can't relate to is probably the goalie."

    "That's what makes him understand that everybody does need a role on a team and how important everybody is on a team.  Even if you're playing eight or nine minutes, he'll get the best eight or nine minutes for that guy. I think he really understands that."

    Next, a great boss is who he is all the time, with no pretense, false promises or hidden agendas.

    "He's as serious in life as he is in hockey," Gilligan explains. "He expects a lot from the people around him, but he expects more from himself. He doesn't change. He hasn't changed one bit since I've met him. He doesn't forget anybody. With all his successes, his best friends are some of the guys he grew up with along the way. Not big shot type players, but just regular friends. He's as nice to them as he is to everyone else."

    Number five on the Forbes list is "a great boss is a port in a storm." When everything is going to crap, he's the one who calms everyone down and remains cool under pressure.

    "I think he's pretty calm," Lecavalier says. "I think he was like that as a player. That's probably very hard to do as a coach because you're basically looked at as either a winner or a loser. A lot of coaches can't take the losing."

    "I think Marty's done a really good job in believing in the process of getting better. Sometimes you don't always get the results, but you know that's gonna come.  So I think as a coach, it's good to be patient if your team is trending in the right direction and he's doing that."

    According to the list, an excellent boss is also human, not afraid of emotion or embarrassed to show his own. He's also warm and relates to his people as people before workers

    "He's very easy to talk to," Lecavalier shares. "He was a guy who wasn't afraid to go and talk to coaches, and that's what he's bringing. His door's always open. Not every coach does that. They say their door is open, but it's not really."

    "But he's a good communicator. He understands everybody has different needs and responds to different ways of coaching. I can just remember with me and John Tortorella, it was hard for me to go into his office. And Marty would say why won't you go in his office? You'll feel so much better after. You'll both feel better. He was always about communication, and he does that with his players."

     And finally, according to Forbes, a great boss is humble.

    "He doesn't brag on himself at all," Gilligan confirms. "As much as he's done, he doesn't talk about himself. He just goes on with his life and tries to help people around him. He just loves the sport and respects it so much. It's given him a career and it's been his lifelong dream."

    If St.Louis has all the qualities of a great boss, neither Gilligan nor Lecavalier is surprised.

    "I got in the league before him, but I was five years younger," says Lecavalier. "He really helped me on my mental game. He made sure I got better. He was a natural leader that brought the best out of me. He was almost like a player-coach type guy with not just the caring, but how to play the game. Little things on the ice that make you better. He was a big brother type of guy. A friend and a guy you could talk to."

    "He sees the game like he's in the third balcony. He's always had great hockey sense. Even when he played with me, he'd suggest things to do," Gilligan says.

    "I remember on his first penalty kill with us, he came off the ice and I said 'Hey Marty, when you get that puck, you get rid of it and throw it down the other end.' He looked at me and said 'I kind of see it as an offensive opportunity. There's fewer people out there to go around.' He was almost like a coach from day one for us."

    "He was a great hire. Some of the younger kids have rallied around him. They're really starting to grow as players right now. He's a good match for them. Some of them remember him as a player. It wasn't that long ago that he was doing the stuff they're trying to do right now."

    "He's got a great set of values. As good as he is as a hockey person, he's a hall of famer in life. He's quite a guy."

    

                                 🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

    Back in Gander, after the Canadiens crew...now honorary Newfoundlanders...were screeched in and shared a few laughs and beers, they headed out to get ready for the next day's game.

    At the door, they stopped and looked around. "Where's Marty?" they asked.

    Looking back, there he was.

    Quietly helping the bartender clear away the empties before he hit the road.