The Grail in Grasp

Driving into Pennsylvania from West Virginia, traveling north through the Alleghenies on US 19, you are treated to a landscape of forested mountains and scenic valleys. The further you get from the state line, farms gradually become less prevalent and dottings of homes more prevalent, but Nature continues to dominate. Even when buildings become ubiquitous enough to signal you're in a suburb, it doesn't really feel like it because the slopes are still wooded and trees still reign.

After an hour or so, US19 and Interstate 376 hook up as one road. Before long the road leads you into the 56-year-old Fort Pitt Tunnel, which bores through Mount Washington for almost seven-tenths of a mile... and when you emerge from the darkness on the other side, this is the view you immediately see:

It is the most startling introduction to a city anywhere in these United States and perhaps the world. While the steep north slope of Mount Washington rises directly behind you, the modern skyline of downtown Pittsburgh stands, wholly unexpected, directly in front of you; and the Monongahela River flows roughly six stories below, for you are now driving across the upper deck of the world's first computer-designed bowstring arch bridge. It's striking, the difference between what lies north of the mount versus south of it.

Moments later you exit onto the streets of downtown and head east for a few blocks on Boulevard of the Allies, paralleling the Monongahela, before turning north and making your way to Fifth Avenue. That is where you find Consol Energy Center, home to the hockey team that on Sunday proved itself the best on Earth.

If you stand there, you will not only be standing next to the home of the Pittsburgh Penguins -- you will be standing in the heart of our nation's true hockey capital.

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I know many people call Detroit "Hockeytown," but that's only because they are susceptible to advertising gimmicks. I'm not saying there are no good hockey fans in Detroit, but I am saying -- because it's true -- that it was a 1996 marketing campaign that first referred to Detroit by that name.

Because the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup in 1997, the name stuck even after Detroiters failed to sell out playoff games during their 2008 championship run... but if you want to know which American burg has the longest standing legit claim to the title of "Hockeytown," look not to Eastern Michigan but to Western PA, and let your eyes fall upon the 'Burgh.

Although there is no question that Canada is both the cradle and Everest of hockey, it was south of the border, here in Pittsburgh, that the game was first played indoors on man-made ice on a regular basis. That was way back in the 1890's and the venue was the opulent Schenley Park Casino, not far from the University of Pittsburgh.

And it was here (in 1896) that the world's first professional hockey league, the Western Pennsylvania Hockey League (WPHL), was both founded and based. Back then, in Canada it was illegal to pay people to play sports, and therefore many of the best Canadian players started moving here to play in the WPHL. That forced Canada to change its laws, which in turn led to the creation of the National Hockey League, so it can be said that without Pittsburgh there would be no NHL.

Despite the fraudulent concept of the Original Six, whose members include Detroit but not the 'Burgh, history shows that Pittsburgh had an NHL team prior to Detroit. It also shows that Pittsburgh had an NHL team prior to another of the Original Six, namely Chicago.

This means that of the so-called "original" six cities, one-third fail to pre-date the 'Burgh when it comes to NHL hockey being played there. And if you look at things from a franchise-specific perspective, it turns out that fully half of the so-called "original" six franchises (namely the Red Wings, Blackhawks, and NY Rangers) fail to pre-date the 'Burgh's original team in the league.

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The first NHL franchise in Pittsburgh was called the Pirates, and it was the city's first professional sports team to wear the yellow and black colors that have become synonymous with the city. Pittsburgh's current pro teams -- the Penguins, Steelers, and baseball Pirates -- all wear yellow and black.

Obviously, the hockey Pirates did not survive to the present, but that was not due to a lack of hockey enthusiasm among the citizens. The primary causes of the Pirates' going under were the financial losses suffered by their owners in the 1929 stock market crash, and the Great Depression economy that followed (and it's hard not to suspect that the losses were exacerbated by the fact that the owners were a bootlegger and a fight promoter).

The Pirates had a lasting impact on the game despite playing for less than a decade. Under the tutelage of player-coach Odie Cleghorn, they were the first team to change players on the fly, and the first to use set lines rather than just leaving their best players on the ice until they couldn't go any longer. Four Pirates are in the Hall of Fame.

Unfortunately, after World War II got going the NHL went ages without expanding, and even if it had expanded sooner than it did, Pittsburgh might have been left out because it lacked an up-to-date arena as the post-war years began to unfold.

Nonetheless, the minor league Pittsburgh Hornets kept hockey very much alive in the city, playing most of their history in aging Duchesne Gardens and sometimes allowing kids to skate on the ice after games:





In 1961 the "arena issue" was solved by the opening of the 17,000-seat, retractable-roofed Civic Arena, whose appearance combined with its eventual use for hockey caused it to be known as the Igloo:





When the NHL finally expanded in 1967, the Penguins came into being.

As everyone knows, Mario Lemieux suited up for them starting in the mid-1980's and was arguably the best player of all time, with apologies to Gretzky and Howe.

Later he was joined by Jaromir Jagr, who also has a claim to that "arguably the best ever" title (with apologies to Gretzky, Howe, and Lemieux).

Powered by Lemieux and Jagr, the Penguins won back-to-back Stanley Cups in 1991 and 1992.

After losing the 2008 Stanley Cup Finals to Detroit in seven games, they again faced Detroit for the Cup in 2009, and that time won in seven games to secure the franchise's third world championship.

Which brings us to this year's version of championship Pens...

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The Penguins have remained talented ever since they won it all in '09. However, many people have been less than impressed with their post-season results because they experienced three first round eliminations and no return to the SCF during the six seasons from 2010 through 2015.

Of course that's not fair, especially when you consider the roster turnover, coaching changes, and amount of time Sidney Crosby missed with concussion issues. Those who talked about the Pens as post-season flops seemed not to notice that they made it to the Eastern Conference Finals in 2013 and to the second round in 2010 and 2014.

But for the first two months of this season, it looked like the naysayers might be right to say the Pens weren't good enough to win it all. They appeared wayward, Crosby was struggling, and in mid-December their place in the rankings was low enough that they would have missed the playoffs had the season ended at that time.

That is when ownership pulled the trigger by firing head coach Mike Johnston and replacing him with Mike Sullivan from their Wilkes-Barre/Scranton affiliate -- and did that move ever pay off, as the team caught fire and Crosby got his groove back.

Down the home stretch, the Pens were the hottest club in the league and looked like the kind of machine nobody would want to face in the playoffs. They didn't miss a beat even when Evgeni Malkin and Marc-Andre Fleury went down with late-season injuries that caused them to spend 1.5 and 2 months out of the lineup, respectively.

Then came a post-season run that can truly be called spectacular... First they blew the Rangers out of the water, averaging 4.2 goals per game and chasing Henrik Lundqvist from the net three times... Next they eliminated the Washington Capitals, who had the best record in the league and were favored to win it all... Then they overcame a 3-2 series deficit to win the Eastern Conference Finals over the Lightning in seven games (damn it)... And finally, they controlled San Jose for most of the Stanley Cup Finals before closing it out Sunday night in Game Six.

They officially became the champs at 10:47 Pennsylvania time, 7:47 California time. This edition of the Penguins is the fourth in franchise history to win the Cup, and may very well be the best of the four. But they have so many key parts to mention, where do you even start?

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Sid the Kid:  It might seem strange to still be calling Sidney Crosby "the kid" after 11 seasons in the NHL, but don't forget that he's played all those years and is still only 28... A month and a half into this particular campaign, he was a miserable 157th in the league in points; but after he got rolling, he became unstoppable and roared up the rankings to finish third with 85 points (36, 49) in 80 games played... Crosby's post-season was filled with faceoffs won at key times; perfect field generaling; more between-the-legs passes than anyone could count; and a tally of 19 points on 6 goals and 13 assists in 24 playoff games. His OT goal in Game Two of the ECF prevented the Penguins from falling into a 2-0 series deficit against the Lightning (damn it) that might have been too steep for them to overcome. This centerman from Nova Scotia absolutely earned the Conn Smythe he received on Sunday.

Malkin:  You wouldn't know it if all you did was listen to what media people say, but Evgeni Malkin registered just one fewer playoff point than Crosby (6, 12, 18) despite missing the last month and a half of the regular season and therefore having to cope with rust. He was all over the ice in the last two rounds, and his game-winner in Game Four of the SCF gave his team that 3-1 series lead which almost guaranteed they would win the whole thing.

HBK:  Even more so than established stars Crosby and Malkin, it was the so-called HBK Line that made Pittsburgh's motor run from playoff start to playoff finish. Comprised of Nick Bonino (the B) centering Carl Hagelin and Phil Kessel (the H and K), this trio rang up an astonishing 56 points on the stat sheet and proved to be the league's most prolific post-season line... and to top it off, none of them played for the Pens the year before, with Kessel and Bonino being acquired during the offseason and Hagelin being brought in via trade in January... and to illustrate just how insanely deep the Penguins are at forward, this unit is their third line.

Team D:  Trevor Daley is the Penguins' best defenseman, and entering Game Four of the ECF they were already short-staffed defensively and Daley had logged the second-most playoff ice time of anyone on the roster. So when he suffered a broken ankle in that contest that would sideline him indefinitely, it was the kind of loss that would cripple most teams -- but not this one... The Penguins responded by playing committed, disciplined, team-wide defense until such time as they would hoist the Cup. They blocked shots, took away passing lanes, and cleared the puck from their zone so that their opponent, be it Tampa Bay or San Jose, had to struggle just to set up on offense.

The Rookies:  Much has been said about Matt Murray, and for good reason. Called up from the minors in December, he made his first NHL appearance six days before Christmas and played in only 13 games before the playoffs started; but with Marc-Andre Fleury not medically cleared to return from his concussions, Murray eagerly assumed the starting goaltender role for the playoffs and played so well that he received serious Conn Smythe consideration... However, another rookie deserves almost as many accolades: RW Bryan Rust, the former Notre Dame star who plays on the Penguins' bottom line but seemed to have top-six impact every time he was on the ice. Playing with a perfect blend of grit and grace, Rust scored both Pittsburgh goals in their Game Seven win in the ECF (damn it) and his six total goals in the post-season were just as many as Crosby and Malkin.

And there are plenty of other key pieces that could be talked about, but I am going to focus on one...

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Kessel:  As much as Crosby deserved the Conn Smythe, Phil Kessel deserved it more. His 22 playoff points (10, 12) led the team. He played fast, shrewd, and clutch, seeming to electrify the ice every time he stepped on it.

One wouldn't think that a player with Phil Kessel's resume would need to prove his worth. Drafted fifth overall by Boston, he scored 36 goals during a dazzling 2008-09 season when he was just 21. After being traded to Toronto, he spent six years in the self-proclaimed hockey capital of the world and was always the best forward on the team, scoring 30+ in four of those six years... And if you're talking about post-season productivity, just consider that Kessel's career rate of 0.5 goals per playoff game ranks third-best of all active players over the last 16 years. Also, coming into this year he ranked second in primary playoff points since 2007 among all players who logged at least 200 minutes of playoff ice time across that span.

But unfortunately for this 28-year-old Wisconsinite, playing in Toronto isn't good for your reputation if you happen to have been born in the United States. A venomous strain of anti-American bigotry flows through the veins of many members of the Toronto media, and a softer but still palpable strain of that prejudice flows through the veins of some Toronto fans.

Never mind that Kessel was the Leafs' best player and often their only good forward: When the Queen City's partisans needed to blame someone for their team's inability to be a contender, their arrows inevitably got aimed at the team's highest profile American.

Unable to find anything in his playing style or productivity to criticize, they decided to claim that he eats too many hot dogs and thereby keeps himself from being the best he can be, which thereby undermines not just his own character but that of his teammates. Thus, many Leafs fans said their team would be better off without him. Seriously.

To be fair, I too am guilty of poking fun at Kessel's, shall we say, uncoventional body shape (if that was really me who referred to him as "a rotund, cholesterol-soaked dead ringer for John Kruk"). But hey, whoever (ahem) wrote that was just joshing and engaging in jocular hyperbole. I am glad to see Kessel stick his finger in the eye of his detractors and do so without saying anything negative about them.

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In closing, I am disappointed that the Tampa Bay Lightning fell short of grasping the holiest grail in sports this month. But I take comfort in knowing that the only team that could stop them is truly the best one on the planet.

If the Bolts had to lose, there is no other team or organization I would rather lose to, and no other city I would rather see staging a championship parade. The Igloo has been replaced by Consol Energy Center, and Mario Lemieux has been replaced by Sidney Crosby on the ice; but Lemieux is not only still around the team, he now owns the team, and Crosby has proven himself a worthy heir to Lemieux's crown.

The Penguins are still the Penguins, Pittsburgh is still a hotbed for hockey passion, and the Cup being there is good for the game.

A une fougueuse

If he had he been born a few centuries earlier, he would have been a coureur des bois -- one of those tough, determined Frenchmen who used birchbark canoes to depart what is now known as Quebec, paddling across thousands of miles of rivers in the wild interior of what is now the United States and Canada, trapping beaver as they went and bartering with the indigenous people that some of us (including me) still refer to as American Indians.

The coureur des bois were daring, and so is he... Their tenacity, like his, far exceeded the average man's... They were strong, and so is he... They defied the odds, and so has he.

Martin St. Louis (pronounced Mar-tan San Lou-ee) was born 40 years ago in Laval, Quebec. He lists at 5'8" and 176 pounds, which does not sound like the body of a professional athlete, but a professional athlete is what he is -- and an exceptional one at that. While St. Louis stands neither tall nor massive, he does stand strong, with thighs that have been likened to tree trunks, and he is possessed with the heart of a lion.

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Playing the game of hockey, St. Louis has always been smaller than those he went up against, and has always refused to let that make a difference. As a kid he led his midget league in scoring, only to be left off of the provincial midget team because of his size.

The most direct route to the NHL is to play in junior leagues, and all the junior teams knew how prolific a scorer he was. Nonetheless, because of his size he received little interest from them.

In order to keep his prospects open, he crossed the border and accepted a hockey scholarship from the University of Vermont. Playing there from 1993 to 1997, he was a two-time finalist for the Hobey Baker Award and set school records for points (267) and assists (176). Those records still stand 18 years after his collegiate days came to an end.

The close-mindedness of hockey scouts was confirmed when a career of that caliber generated almost no interest from NHL clubs. St. Louis was never drafted and the only organization to grant him a tryout (Ottawa) did not take him, so he wound up signing a contract with the minor league Cleveland Lumberjacks of the IHL.

Impressed with his production in Cleveland, the Calgary Flames brought him under contract and assigned him to their AHL affiliate in New Brunswick. Though he eventually cracked the Flames' NHL roster in October 1998, he was used sparingly and they left him exposed in the 2000 NHL Expansion Draft. Then, when he went untaken in that draft, the Flames let him go.

St. Louis was 25 years old and it looked like his NHL career might be over after a grand total of four goals and zero playoff appearances.

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Fortunately for him and all true hockey fans, the Tampa Bay Lightning gave him another chance and he debuted with them on October 6, 2000.

At first St. Louis struggled to find his mojo in the Sunshine State and did not score for weeks; however, he eventually got going and broke into the big time during the 2002-03 season, when he tied for the team lead with 33 goals and added 37 assists. That season's squad won the first division title in franchise history and put the franchise back into the playoffs for the first time in seven years. St. Louis scored seven goals during those playoffs, three of which were game-winners.

The Bolts faced Washington in the opening round and after dropping the first two games on home ice, they won four in a row to advance past the opening round for the first time in team history. St. Louis scored the series-winning goal in triple overtime of Game Six, and you can watch it by going here (though all 44 seconds are worth your time, the play that ended with the winning goal starts at the 00:32 mark).

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If the 2002-03 season was his coming out party, the 2003-04 season was his exclamation point. With 38 goals and 56 assists in the regular season, he rang up 94 overall points to win the Art Ross Trophy as the NHL's leading scorer -- then followed that up with 24 points (9 goals, 15 assists) in the playoffs.

In addition to the Art Ross, St. Louis won the Lester B. Pearson Award for the NHL's most valuable player as determined by a vote of the players, plus the Hart Memorial Trophy for the NHL's most valuable player as determined by a vote of the members of the Professional Hockey Writers' Association.

But ah, those playoffs! Tampa Bay won the Stanley Cup that year, and it was during the Cup Finals that Martin St. Louis scored the most memorable goal in franchise history. To put the cherry on top, he scored it against the team that had let him go four years earlier.

The Bolts had the best record in the NHL and had home ice advantage for the finals. However, when Game Six started, they were trailing the Calgary Flames three games to two. That game was played in Calgary and the Flames' red-jerseyed fans were deafeningly loud, doing everything they could to tilt the ice in their team's favor so it could become the first Canada-based franchise to win the Cup in 11 years.

When regulation time ended, the game was tied 2-2... Then the Bolts and Flames battled fiercely throughout the first overtime, yet no one scored... Then, 33 seconds into the second overtime, St. Louis pounced on a rebound of Tim Taylor's shot and rifled it into the top of the net to force Game Seven back in Tampa. The Lightning would go on to win Game Seven and secure the first Stanley Cup in franchise history.

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Those were the first two consecutive NHL seasons that St. Louis managed to complete in their entirety. He was just shy of his 28th and 29th birthdays when they came to their respective ends, and to put that in perspective, consider that the average age at which an NHL player retires is 28 years and 62 days.

Because those seasons included him winning the Cup and establishing himself as a force to be reckoned with, I am sure he would rank them at the top of his career highlight list. Yet they were "merely" the beginning of his career at hockey's highest level, and over the ensuing decade-plus he made such a mark that he stands a better-than-even chance of being inducted into the Hall of Fame.

St. Louis appeared in six All-Star Games... He won the Lady Byng Memorial Trophy three times between 2010 and 2013... For the 2006-07 season, he notched a career-high points total of 102 (43 goals, 59 assists)... For 2009-10, he equaled his earlier Art Ross-winning points total of 94, and in 2010-11 he exceeded it with 99... Then, in 2012-13, a full nine years after he first won the Art Ross, St. Louis led the NHL in scoring and won it again at the age of 37. The only player to have gone longer between his first and final times winning the Art Ross was Wayne Gretzky himself -- yet Gretzky was only 33 when he won it for the last time.

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As far as playing style is concerned, St. Louis is best described as a spark plug. He attacked like the Tasmanian Devil of cartoon fame, never giving up on a play, legs constantly moving like pistons in an internal combustion engine.

For much of his career, well into his thirties, speed was his forte. Opponents' hearts stopped whenever he exploded into open ice with the puck on his stick, for it was no secret that he could snap it wherever he wanted in the blink of an eye. And, although he had a sniper's shot, he also had a "Magic Johnson sense" for knowing where he should pass the puck to set better-positioned teammates up to score.

Despite being undersized, he could fight through checks as good as anyone and never shied away from doling out punishment. Although some claimed he was soft on defense, that is belied by the fact he often played on the penalty kill and racked up 29 short-handed goals.

St. Louis's training regimen and off-ice workouts are the stuff of legend. Well after he became an established star and leader, he continued to train so diligently that former GM Jay Feaster quipped that "Martin St. Louis still thinks he could get cut tomorrow."

His reputation for humility was buttressed not only by his belief that he was "cut-able" but by his interaction with people around town. St. Louis did not seek attention but everyone knew him when they saw him, and he was quick to acknowledge their glances and happy to engage in small talk.

A friend of mine has played for years in one of those adult hockey beer leagues, and it just so happens that the year the Lightning won the Stanley Cup was the same year in which my friend's team won the "Stanley Keg" for the second season in a row. The night they won said trophy, they went out to celebrate and ran into none other than Martin St. Louis himself, and the NHL's scoring leader talked to them about hockey and congratulated them on their victory.

Thousands of similar anecdotes regarding the undersized Quebecker exist around this metropolitan area. Another friend of mine encountered him several times at Panera Bread and has nothing but good things to say about him.

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I have been a sports fan for as many of my 44 years as I can recall, and there is no denying that the relationship between fans and players is more familiar and personal in hockey than it is in the other "big four" sports. Yet when it came to Martin St. Louis and the people in the Tampa Bay area, that relationship felt even more familiar. Like my good friend and former co-worker Brooke said two months ago: "His story was our greatest story."

Simply put, he and the Tampa Bay metropolitan area had things in common. The stiff-minded didn't believe that Martin St. Louis could play NHL hockey, and he proved them wrong in spades. Likewise, the stiff-minded didn't believe that Tampa Bay would support an NHL franchise, and we proved them wrong in spades.

No matter how much he succeeded at every level of the game, the naysayers looked down their noses at him until doing so made them seem ridiculous. Likewise, no matter how much we proved that Tampa Bay is hockey country, the naysayers looked down their noses at us.

At long last, he led our team to a championship that proved the naysayers wrong, and as that championship was won, we cheered exuberantly and took delight in knowing that the naysayers were irritated by our happiness.

In a way that probably won't make sense unless you were here, it felt like he and the fans were united. This sounds strange since he was the one doing the work, but on a psychological level it felt like we were with him in that birchbark canoe, thrilled to stick it to the elite with every dip of the oars. His contract even had a no-trade clause, which seemed to be the ultimate confirmation that he was one of us.

Nobody in these parts bothered to use his full name, or even his correct first name. He was simply "Marty." Walk into any bar in the region and use the name "Marty" in conversation, and even if you never said the words "Lightning" or "hockey," there was a one hundred percent chance that everyone knew you were talking about Martin St. Louis.

Then, after that Stanley Cup championship and all those high-scoring years ... after all the awards mentioned above ... after another deep playoff run that saw the Bolts come within a goal of reaching the Cup finals in 2011 ... after almost 14 calendar years of Martin St. Louis going into battle wearing a Lightning uniform ... after all that, the abject weirdness of the 2013-14 season came a-callin'.

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The Bolts were not a floundering team in 2013-14. They were a talented bunch that spent almost the entire season in the thick of the playoff race, and their roster, while young, overflowed with the kind of potential that suggested they might be able to make a Cup run if only "the kids" could perform with the wisdom of players who had a few more years on them.

Martin St. Louis was the team captain. As such, he took the youngsters under his wing to teach them how to succeed in the National Hockey League. Tyler Johnson and Ondrej Palat were especially responsive, as they became very productive contributors and ultimately finished second and third in the voting for NHL Rookie of the Year.

When leading scorer Steven Stamkos went down with a grotesquely broken leg, St. Louis put the team on his back and willed them forward. Everyone followed his example and the team kept pace in the playoff chase. With his 39th birthday months away, he continued making crisp assists and slipping pucks into nets.

But when Canada's Olympic roster was announced in mid-season and he was not on it, his reaction, even in public, was infantile. Steve Yzerman was not only the Lightning's general manager, he was also the executive director of Canada's national team, and rumors quickly "escaped" claiming that 1) St. Louis blamed Yzerman for not convincing the rest of the committee to name him to the team, and 2) he therefore felt like he could not be associated with Yzerman.

St. Louis did nothing to quell the rumors once they "escaped" into the international press. Constantly asked about them, all he did was offer pouty-faced remarks that he was "not going to talk about that." In other words, he repeatedly confirmed his self-absorbed discontent without saying the words. Not exactly what a leader is supposed to do.

Eventually, he of the no-trade clause demanded that he be traded, and on top of that, demanded that he be traded specifically to the New York Rangers. Because of the no-trade clause in his contract, he could veto any trade Yzerman worked out with a team other than the Rangers, and he made it clear that he would do that even as he made it clear he did not want to play for the Lightning any more.

Essentially, he held the team that once rescued his career hostage, and in so doing he held the fans who admired him hostage. Again, not exactly what a leader is supposed to do. What must rookies like Johnson, Palat, and Nikita Kucherov have thought when they saw their captain behaving like a child?

Eventually Martin St. Louis got his wish. He was dealt to the Rangers, and when he got to New York, one of the first things he said to the assembled media was that he was excited to finally play "in a big market." It reeked not only of a player wanting to play for a different team, but of a player telling his longtime fans that they weren't good enough for him. It reeked of an entitled prima donna grown a thousand times too big for his britches. In short, it reeked of everything he was not supposed to be, and those of us in the Bay Area took his exit far more personally that we have taken the exit of any other pro athlete who has ever plied his trade in these parts.

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It was -- is -- hard to believe that a man could flush 14 years of goodwill down the crapper over not making an Olympic team that he was unlikely to make in the first place. He had been left off of previous Olympic teams, and in 2014 he was no spring chicken and there were plenty of much younger, equally qualified players available for what he perceived as "his" spot.

Rumors trickled out that St. Louis was using the Olympic matter as a red herring, and I find these rumors to be more compelling than him forcing a trade solely because he felt snubbed.

Some of the rumors held that St. Louis's wife, Heather, had been pressuring him for years to move to New York so she could be closer to family (she is from Connecticut just outside of NYC). These rumors imply that by exploiting the Olympic matter, he protected Heather from a public backlash. I would also add that if this rumor tells the whole story, exploiting the Olympics also protected him from being ridiculed as a vaginal sort of person who can't stand up to his wife.

Other rumors held that he wanted to move to New York because his sons, who are becoming involved in competitive hockey, would not have to travel far from home to face the kind of top-tier competition that will be preferable for them to perfect their skills and garner the most attention from pro scouts and college recruiters.

Both of those rumors make sense and I suspect that there is some truth to both of them. Perhaps the Olympic matter also played some part. Perhaps there were other issues no one has speculated about. And I do believe that he is under no obligation to tell us.

But still. Why give a middle finger to the Lightning and their fans? Why behave in a way that contradicts your entire reputation? After all, that reputation has so much to do with both your current success and your potential future success once your playing days are far behind you.

The question of why? resonates, and gives rise to the question of whether the fans had been taken for a ride all along.

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We, the fans, did move on. We have lives to live, and we accepted the situation as one of those things that sucks but isn't worth losing sleep over.

Or so we thought, until the 2015 playoffs rolled around and the paths of Martin St. Louis and the Tampa Bay Lightning crossed in the Eastern Conference Finals. The Rangers and Bolts met with a trip to the Stanley Cup Finals on the line, which meant it was no regular season game and suddenly the thought of St. Louis's current team advancing at our expense was one of the worst things imaginable.

In Game Two, St. Louis was positioned at the point during a 5-on-3 power play. A pass came to him and when he turned to take it, he slipped and fell to the ice, leaving the puck exposed. Tyler Johnson scooped it up, raced the other way, and scored a short-handed goal that shifted the momentum of the game, which the Lightning wound up winning 6-2. It almost seemed like divine retribution, as if God himself had pushed St. Louis over to teach him a lesson about the wages of pride.

In Game Four, when St. Louis scored 5:08 into the third period, he poured gas on the fire by pointing up toward the Amalie Arena stands and yelling "fuck you guys." The cameras caught it and it didn't require much acumen to read his lips. Admittedly, his gesture might have been intended for the owner's box and his barb meant for Yzerman and Tampa Bay management, not for Tampa Bay fans, but the optics were what they were -- and even if he was cursing management, doesn't that prove that his peevish departure from here really was over something petty and not over more important family issues?

When the series ended with the Lightning defeating the Rangers in seven games, many Tampa Bay fans were just as happy about our team being the one that prevented St. Louis from winning another Stanley Cup than they were about our team keeping itself in the running for the Cup.

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His 2014-15 season was not up to his standards, but was still productive. 21 goals and 31 assists in 74 games, with a plus-minus of +12, is very respectable. Especially for someone his age.

His playoffs, however, were far from good. There were fanned shots galore and he finished at -1 with a paltry 3.1% shooting percentage. Before this year, his worst-ever playoff shooting percentage had been 14.5%. His best-ever is the 28.0% he shot in 2003.

After Game Seven, St. Louis was open about the fact that his production wasn't what he wanted of himself, and wasn't what should inspire the up-against-the-salary-cap Rangers to offer him a new contract when his expired at the end of June. He said he would have to weigh his options about continuing to play in the NHL. It was unlike anything else he had ever said, and even for those of us who harbor bitter feelings about his inglorious departure from Florida, it was hard not to feel for him.

*     *     *     *     *

June ended two days ago, and St. Louis's contract ended along with it.

The New York Rangers, for whom he so wanted to play, made no attempt to re-sign him, even at a reduced rate.

The Pittsburgh Penguins and New Jersey Devils came calling. But apparently he thought whatever they offered wasn't worth the added wear and tear on his body, or he decided that he didn't want to keep playing when he couldn't hold his own the way he used to.

As I type this sentence it is 10:14 p.m. Eastern Time on July 2, 2015, and Martin St. Louis announced his retirement earlier today.

Part of me is filled with schadenfreude. That part of me feels happy that he did not win a championship with another team.

Part of me is filled with regret. That part of me feels sorry to see him go, because he was one for the ages and was extremely good for the game; and, let's face it, my team would not have become a champion without him.

His statement this morning said this: I have been blessed to play for 16 years in the NHL, it has been an amazing ride. I would like to thank the Tampa Bay Lightning and New York Rangers organizations and owners for providing me the opportunity to play the sport I love for so many years. I could never have played for so long or accomplished all that I have without the unwavering love and support from my wife, Heather, our three sons, Ryan, Lucas, and Mason, and my parents.

There is decency in those words, and perhaps an outstretched hand.

And I believe they are his own words, not those of a publicist or sports agent. After all, they don't bother to thank the Flames organization that gave up on him.

I don't know what to say Marty, and I know I am not alone when it comes to having mixed emotions tonight, but I do know it's unfair to ignore 14 years of excellence and exceedingly fond memories all because of a few months of rancor.

You succeeded in your sport because you are what you Francophones would refer to as A une fougueuse -- a feisty one -- and for that I am grateful.

Merci pour les souvenirs.

On Friday Night, Watch

As much as I love college football, I can not deny that hockey is the world’s greatest spectator sport. And when it comes to professional sports on this continent, no championship trophy is as difficult to win – or as hallowed to hold aloft – as Lord Stanley’s Cup.

Win the Super Bowl and hoist the Lombardi Trophy? Yes, that’s a great and significant accomplishment…but really, all it takes is a three-game winning streak.

Win the World Series and hoist the Commissioner’s Trophy? Yes, that’s a handsome trophy…but the sport is dull and those who get excited about it tend to fall into one of these categories: 1) statistics geek, or 2) sentimental journalist with low testosterone count.

Win the NBA Championship? Um, that meant something 15+ years ago, but today’s NBA is populated by a bunch of prima donna weaklings who can’t pass, can’t dribble, can’t avoid traveling or double-dribbling or carrying…and are more interested in getting mentioned on ESPN than they are in winning the games they are paid to play.

Hockey, on the other hand, is everything sports are supposed to be.

On one shift, a player may sustain bruises and a bloody nose from getting crushed into the glass, or he may lose teeth from taking a puck to the mouth…yet he will return to the ice for his very next shift, mere minutes later, without missing a second of playing time.

When they end up on the losing end of a game, players point their fingers at themselves rather than at the refs, coaches, league officials, media, fans, wives, mistresses, etc.

Winning the Stanley Cup requires a team to survive a grueling march through two months of playoffs – four best-of-seven series – during which it is an absolute guarantee there will be multiple injuries and wild swings of momentum.

And, there is but one Stanley Cup. It has existed since the 1890’s, and when a team wins it, it does not get a replica to put in its trophy case. Hockey players live by a code which says they will not touch the Cup unless they have earned the right by winning it. Some go even further in their reverence: Dave Andreychuk did not play for a championship team until his 22^nd year in the league, and even though he was in the same room as the Cup on multiple occasions, he refused to even look at it until he won it with my beloved Tampa Bay Lightning in 2004.

Friday night will bring an event to our television screens that is unlike anything else in professional sports: Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Finals. The Detroit Red Wings could solidify their position as the biggest sports dynasty of the past quarter-century, or the much younger Pittsburgh Penguins could avenge their loss in last year’s finals and steal Detroit’s crown. Expect the players to expend more energy that night than most of us will expend over the course of the next decade. Expect the forwards to flood the nets with shots, the goalies to make mind-boggling saves, and the defensemen to sacrifice their bodies in order to block pucks traveling 90 miles per hour.

Canadians know to watch hockey. Unfortunately, the majority of Americans don’t. That might be because in most parts of the U.S., people don’t grow up with it as part of their culture, or it might be because it is easier to pick up if you go to a game in person than if you only see it on television. But you know hustle when you see it, and you know passion when you see it, and you know skill when you see it…so as an American, I am here to tell my countrymen who love sports that you must watch Game Seven on Friday night. Otherwise you are cheating yourself. Our friends to the north have it right on this one.