Tim Thomas didn't expect this - the pain, the suffering, being open about both. Yet there he was, signature goatee and all, speaking candidly with a small group of reporters earlier this month in Washington.

His voice trembled. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He bore it all.

"I wake up everyday and basically have to reorder everything in my mind for the first couple hours of the day and then make a list and try to make some choices to get some stuff done," Thomas said.

The former NHL goalie feels better now than he did when he retired in 2014. But, overall, Thomas is not OK. His brain simply doesn't function like a 45-year-old's should. He says a 2015 medical scan revealed two-thirds of it was getting less than 5% blood flow while the other third was averaging about 50%. Concussions sustained between the pipes have scrambled his brain.

"I couldn't communicate with anybody for a few years," Thomas said of his early retirement days, when he'd ignore loved ones. He later mentioned he "sat out in the woods" for a while, presumably to limit contact with the world.

The decade began with such promise for Thomas, who played a starring role in Boston's 2011 Stanley Cup victory. At 36, he authored a season for Bruins lore, posting a remarkable .939 save percentage in 82 total games played, claiming both the Vezina and Conn Smythe trophies.

Thomas was in D.C. for the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame induction ceremony on Dec. 12. NHL commissioner Gary Bettman, who on several occasions has denied there's a link between hockey concussions and chronic traumatic encephalopathy, a neurodegenerative disease known as CTE, was part of the Hall's incoming class, too.

During Thomas' two-and-half-minute acceptance speech that night, Bettman was seated a few feet away, providing nods of support as the former netminder nervously stammered through some of his remarks.

The scene was surreal, all things considered, and a fitting end to the 2010s.

The concussion decade

Dr. Ann McKee, a Boston University neuropathologist, made a key discovery in late 2009. Former NHLer Reggie Fleming, who died at 73 of progressive dementia, became the first hockey player diagnosed with CTE. The disease, she noted, should no longer be considered exclusive to football and boxing.

McKee's finding coincided with the NFL - the "it" league - finally acknowledging concussions can lead to long-term neurological problems. This set the tone for an enlightening past 10 years in the hockey world. "This idea of brain injuries being important in hockey has really sunk in during the last decade," University of Toronto neurosurgery professor Dr. Charles Tator said in an interview.

The issue truly hit critical mass when Sidney Crosby, the best player on the planet, took two blows to the head in the first four days of 2011. He left the Winter Classic following a blindside hit by David Steckel, and then was nailed from behind by Victor Hedman. From there, Crosby exhibited classic concussion symptoms, including headaches, balance problems, dizziness, and sensitivity to light. He battled setbacks, and didn't appear in a single game for 320 days. It was an extreme, worrisome, and very public situation.

The NHL reacted. New concussion protocol and an update to Rule 48 were introduced during Crosby's recovery period. Team physicians were authorized to send players into the "quiet room," and officials were authorized to call penalties on all hits to the head, not just some, with the ability to dish out either a minor or major penalty, not just a major.

Around this time, three former NHL enforcers were found dead over a span of four months. Derek Boogaard, 28, accidentally overdosed on medication while recovering from a concussion. Rick Rypien, 27, and Wade Belak, 35, committed suicide. Tests performed posthumously found all three had CTE. If it didn't already, the league now had a full-blown controversy to wrestle with.

In the wake of Boogaard's death, The New York Times asked Bettman about a possible link between hockey and CTE. "There isn’t a lot of data, and the experts who we talked to, who consult with us, think that it’s way premature to be drawing any conclusions at this point," he replied. Eight years later, with the list of former NHL players diagnosed with CTE reaching double digits, Bettman made a similar remark to a concussion committee in Canadian Parliament. "Other than some anecdotal evidence," he said this past May, "there has not been that conclusive link."

By the end of the decade, Bettman had ammo in the form of a legal victory. In 2013, a group of ex-NHLers filed a lawsuit against the NHL, claiming the league failed to protect its players from head injuries and didn't properly warn them of the game's health risks. The two sides settled for $18.9 million, or $22,000 for each of the 318 players involved. The 2018 payout, which included other medical help, was a fraction of the billion-dollar settlement between the NFL and a group of 20,000 former players. And, unlike the NFL, the NHL avoided liability. In a legal sense, they didn't admit any wrongdoing.

"When you have a defendant who has spent millions of dollars litigating a case for four years to prove that nothing is wrong with getting your brain bashed in, you can only get so far," NHL player attorney Stuart Davidson told the Associated Press shortly after the settlement.

In an interview with theScore earlier this month, player agent and lawyer Allan Walsh labelled the payout a "joke" that amounts to a "drop in the bucket" for the retired player community. Walsh, co-managing director for Octagon Hockey, has been one of Bettman's harshest critics, regularly taking the commissioner to task on Twitter for denying the concussion-CTE link both inside the courtroom and within the court of public opinion.

"(The denial) has huge significance, and the significance is this: Bettman is using that fallacy, that false narrative, to disclaim any responsibility for helping the players who are no longer in the NHL and who are experiencing issues," Walsh said. "It's a way of (saying), 'We are not responsible, we are not liable, and by the way, there's no association between blows to the head and CTE.'"

Walsh's passion for the issue has been fueled by difficult conversations with loved ones of former players and the players themselves. In one instance, a longtime client couldn't find his way home from a nearby market. The player, helpless and confused, couldn't connect the dots. "He didn't recognize streets," Walsh said. "He pulled over, started having a panic attack and called me and said, 'It's only two miles away and I can't find my way home, I'm lost.'"

According to Boston University, CTE symptoms include "memory loss, confusion, impaired judgment, impulse control problems, aggression, depression, suicidality, Parkinsonism, and eventually progressive dementia." However, since CTE cannot be diagnosed in the living, doctors can only say a living player may have it. "If we don't know exactly who's got it, it's hard to start treating people," Tator, who has worked in this space for decades, said. "A lot of the treatments do carry a risk, for example, so you wouldn't want to give a drug to people you don't really know they've got CTE. Lack of ability to diagnose this in the living is really holding things up."

"There's a lot of fear out there with players who are experiencing symptoms," Walsh said of pro hockey alumni. "They're asking themselves, 'Do I have CTE? Am I going to get CTE?'"

As the 2010s moved along and investigative journalists continued to humanize the impact of concussions on former pros - TSN reporter Rick Westhead has led the charge in this area, profiling homeless ex-player Joe Murphy, among many others - a group of active NHLers hung up their skates earlier than planned. Marc Savard, Rick Nash, Clarke MacArthur, Johan Franzen, and Brenden Morrow all cited head trauma as a major reason for retirement. Ex-fighter Daniel Carcillo, who stopped playing in 2015, has been particularly outspoken about the issue, asking for accountability from the NHL.

Through it all, lawyer-speak has persisted. It became a theme of the decade, really, as various high-profile NHL figures - front-office executives, team owners, medical consultants - not only denied a conclusive link between hockey concussions and CTE through carefully worded statements, but also, in some cases, flat-out claimed while under oath during legal proceedings that they were unaware of CTE altogether.

Citing lawsuit deposition transcripts from 2015, Westhead reported Bruins owner Jeremy Jacobs was asked by a lawyer representing the players if he had ever heard of the neurodegenerative disease.

His answer? "No."

'Hockey can be saved'

To the NHL's credit, there seemed to be a shift towards better concussion awareness, prevention, and treatment in the back half of the 2010s. The concussion-spotter protocol, for instance, was updated again in 2016 to add another layer of support. There are now both in-arena spotters and centralized spotters in the league's New York office assigned to each game.

This past August, the NHL and NHLPA released a 13-minute educational video about concussion symptoms and how to identify a concussed player. Every NHLer must watch the video at training camp, according to the official concussion evaluation and management protocol. Brochures and posters are also resources for players, while medical personnel and coaches are required to attend separate concussion-related sessions at different points in the season.

Teams that do not comply with protocol guidelines - say, if a club doesn't use all the mandatory concussion-assessment tools before allowing a player to return to action - are subject to a minimum fine of $25,000. Subsequent offenses in the same season lead to "substantially increased fine amounts."

"We've put a tremendous amount of effort in diagnosing protocols, return-to-play protocols, making sure players are educated, changing the culture of the game so that players know that it's OK to say, 'I'm having symptoms,'" Bettman told reporters earlier this month at the U.S. Hockey Hall induction. "We want to make sure that we're doing everything possible, that we're staying on top of the medicine and the science as it's being told to us to make sure we're diagnosing and treating appropriately."

From Chris Nowinski's perspective as CEO of the Concussion Legacy Foundation, the NHLPA's role in this process cannot be ignored. He says the players' union hasn't been proactive enough. "I think we are closing in on a decade since anyone from our research team had a formal meeting with anyone from the NHLPA," Nowinski said. "Considering 93% of NHL players studied (13 of 14) have had CTE, I would think they’d be more interested in understanding it, as they actually have the power to prevent it." For what it's worth, the PA donated $500,000 to concussion research in 2015.

Nowinski also hopes to see active NHL players pledge their brain for future CTE research. Only former New Jersey Devils defenseman Ben Lovejoy has made that commitment so far, when he announced his donation in late 2017. "Active players have the attention of the public in a way that retired players do not," Nowinski noted. "If they continue to choose to remain on the bench in the CTE fight, they’ll have no one to blame but themselves when there is still no treatment for CTE in 30 years, when some of them will certainly need it."

The NHL Alumni Association, meanwhile, is in the middle of a research partnership with Canopy that aims to "investigate the efficacy of cannabinoids as an integral part of a novel treatment for post-concussion neurological diseases in former NHL players." Roughly 100 ex-players are said to be participating in the randomized, double-blind study. Also, Westhead reported earlier this month that the NHLAA has established a "resource team" to support its membership, and hired a social worker.

Despite all of this, corners of the hockey world wonder if perhaps the way the game is played, promoted, and officiated needs to be recalibrated. Concussions are inevitable in all sports, since a direct blow to the head is not the only way to sustain a brain injury. "It could be just a jiggle of the brain," Tator said. "Anything that shakes the head on the shoulders can cause concussions." Logically, then, making hockey safer, at all levels, should result in fewer concussions. One way to do this is by minimizing physicality.

Hall of Famers Eric Lindros and Ken Dryden have gone on record about their shared desire to ban body contact. Lindros' career ended because of brain injuries; he's a tireless advocate for research and funding. Dryden released a biography about Steve Montador, who had CTE, in 2017; he's been a staunch Bettman opponent. The idea of no contact has its merits, but is a rather extreme idea at this point.

Walsh has a less drastic solution to propose: "I think the most sensible proposal out there - which makes absolute common sense in every way - is to actually have a ban on all hits to the head and to have the current rules that are on the books more strictly enforced," he said. "By a ban on hits to the head, that means a strict liability ban. You're not looking at intent, you're not looking at whether it's accidental. If there's a hit to the head, it's penalized."

There's hope for the future of hockey, Tator says, but only if certain rule changes pass and proper precautions are followed. "I'm not sure football will survive the ravages of brain injury. But I think hockey can be saved," he said. "There's enough prevention measures that (the hockey community) can follow to save the game."

As for Bettman and the denials, in Walsh's opinion, the clock is ticking.

"Time is working against the NHL and against Bettman," he said. "He's on the wrong side of the issue and he will ultimately be proven to be on the wrong side of history. I think his position on this issue here will be a stain on his legacy forever."

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

With the calendar flipping to 2020, theScore reached out to folks from across the hockey world to put together an NHL all-decade team for the 2010s.

The voting process

First, some important information regarding this subjective exercise.

The all-decade panel included two scouts, one video analyst, one statistical analyst, one coach, one broadcaster, and one journalist. In other words, six industry insiders - four of whom work for NHL teams - and myself, theScore's national hockey writer.

Each panelist was asked to rank this decade's top 12 forwards, top six defensemen, and top two goalies. Only the very best players of the 2010s deserved a spot on this hypothetical club; panelists were told to ignore typical team-building factors, such as handedness, chemistry, and salary.

Once all seven lists were in hand, average scores were calculated for each player.

The top NHLer on each positional ranking received a score of one, the second player a score of two, the third a three, and so on. Therefore, the lower a player's average score, the higher he'd appear on the team. A player selected by some panelists but not others received a score of 13 (forwards), seven (defensemen), or three (goalies) every time they were absent from a panelist's list. This standardized penalty helped keep the process simple and rankings fair.

Alright, let's check out the results and then review the squad.

The NHL's all-decade team

Forwards

Just missed the cut: Martin St. Louis, Nicklas Backstrom, Aleksander Barkov, Nikita Kucherov

Also received votes: Ryan O'Reilly, Marian Hossa, Nathan MacKinnon, Taylor Hall, Corey Perry, Brad Marchand, Phil Kessel

Defensemen

Just missed the cut: Kris Letang, Shea Weber

Also received votes: John Carlson, Mark Giordano, Alex Pietrangelo, Roman Josi

Goalies

Just missed the cut: Marc-Andre Fleury

Also received votes: Tuukka Rask

The footnotes

Sidney Crosby was the least controversial player in this exercise. Six of seven panelists had the Pittsburgh Penguins captain in the No. 1 forward spot.

And why not? Despite missing chunks of the decade due to injury, Crosby is on pace to finish second to Patrick Kane in scoring in the 2010s - with 788 points in 630 contests - and is second to Connor McDavid in points per game at 1.25. He also collected a pile of team and individual accolades along the way - two Stanley Cups, two Conn Smythes, two Rocket Richards, two Lester Pearsons, one Hart, and one Art Ross - and was named a first-team All-Star three times.

McDavid, who could do some serious damage over the course of the next decade, entered the league roughly halfway through the 2010s. The 22-year-old superstar still made his way onto every panelist's list, though nobody seemed to agree on his placement, ranking him first, second, fourth, sixth (twice), eighth, and ninth among forwards.

As for names that jump off the screen, Claude Giroux and Pavel Datsyuk qualify for different reasons. Giroux was sneakily effective throughout the decade. He's currently fourth in points and sixth in games played among all NHLers during the 2010s, yet he never won a Cup or an individual award. Datsyuk, meanwhile, was a wizard on skates - one of the best two-way forwards of all time - who last played in 2016. He barely made the top 12.

Martin St. Louis, with an average score of 11.4, was right behind Datsyuk. He even received a vote for the second-best forward of the decade, a bold choice considering he suited up for only 404 regular-season games and wasn't a first-team All-Star in any of his six seasons during the 2010s.

The submissions for the 12th-best forward were all over the place. Nicklas Backstrom earned three votes, while Nathan MacKinnon, Brad Marchand, Phil Kessel, and Alex Ovechkin all received one. Ovechkin, who cemented himself as one of, if not the best, goal-scorers of all time during the decade, appeared on all seven lists, ranking second (five times), fifth, and seventh.

On defense, there were no eyebrow-raising surprises. All six players on the team are household names. Erik Karlsson, the only blue-liner to win multiple Norris Trophies in the 2010s, definitely earned his spot as the No. 1 defenseman. With less than a week left in the decade, he sits first among blue-liners in total points, points per game, and first-team All-Star nods (four). Duncan Keith's three Cup wins are notable, of course, but his game has tailed off.

Panelists kept on the straight and narrow with their goalie selections. Henrik Lundqvist and/or Carey Price made all seven lists. Lundqvist, who had the same .919 save percentage as Price during the 2010s, picked up four votes for best goalie compared to the Canadiens netminder's two. Marc-Andre Fleury, a Cup winner in 2016 and 2017 and Cup finalist in 2018, claimed the other No. 1 vote, while Tuukka Rask - whose .921 save percentage this decade leads all goalies with 400 regular-season appearances - garnered one second-place vote.

The takeaways

It was fascinating to complete this exercise with six people who are so embedded in hockey but see the game through different lenses.

For instance, it's fair to suggest the coach has a bias toward two-way forwards. Datsyuk, Patrice Bergeron, Ryan O'Reilly, and Aleksander Barkov ranked third, fourth, seventh, and ninth, respectively, on his list. Theory: All of those hours spent watching video of the opposition and being at ice level for heated competition has given the coach a greater appreciation for the little things.

Recency bias might have factored into the process, too. The statistical analyst had Nikita Kucherov seventh on his forward list while the video analyst had Taylor Hall 11th. In the scope of the past few years, you could make the case Kucherov and Hall were ranked fairly. However, over the entirety of the 2010s, that's a hard sell. Then again, who's to say Giroux's consistency this decade is more impressive than short-term dominance? It's all about perspective.

Some more food for thought: While an all-decade club celebrates individual talent and success, nobody really cast aside team results. There's no doubt the stocks of Blackhawks, Kings, and Penguins players were boosted by their Cup rings. It makes you wonder how far up the list John Tavares could've jumped if his clubs had won more than one playoff series in the 2010s. Tavares is third in goals and sixth in points with less than a week to go. But the panelists ultimately placed him 11th among forwards - which seemed to fit.

Overall, it wasn't an easy exercise. The end product - filled with future Hall of Famers - is a remarkable group. For fun, here's a mock lineup of the all-decade team, which features a dream top forward line.

Now, it's your turn to chime in. Feel free to comment below.

How did the panel do? Who did we nail? Who did we miss? What do you think of the mock lineup? And, most importantly, who would you have included on your NHL all-decade team?

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

At first blush, Jason Zucker and Benjamin Rubin appear to have little in common beyond a link to high-level hockey.

Zucker is 27 years old, hails from Las Vegas, and plays for the NHL's Minnesota Wild. Rubin is 30, grew up in Montreal, and plays for Riviere-du-Loup 3L of the LNAH, a six-team semi-pro league based in Quebec.

It turns out Zucker and Rubin, two complete strangers, share a deeply personal experience. As adolescents, both were saddled with choosing between hockey and Judaism. Neither took the decision lightly, knowing it would lay the foundation of their lives for years to come.

The Zuckers identified early in minor hockey that the time and travel demands associated with being an elite athlete too often interfered with religious holidays and rituals. Hockey became the top priority, so Zucker and his brothers never officially came of age with a bar mitzvah, the traditional Jewish celebration.

"Judaism is all-in or nothing, in my opinion," said Zucker, who has a Hebrew message tattooed on his left arm, in part to remind him of his beliefs. "I don't mean that in a negative way. It's just the way the Jewish religion works. There's a lot that goes into it."

Rubin, on the other hand, routinely missed minor hockey games to fulfill the obligations of being an Orthodox Jew. After Rubin made the jump to junior in 2006, Quebec Remparts coach Patrick Roy granted him weekly leaves of absence to observe the Sabbath, a Jewish day of rest and worship that falls between nightfall Friday and nightfall Saturday and prohibits athletic activities for those in more religious sects.

Initially, Rubin was thrilled. He had found a middle ground. Over time, though, the weekly absences produced lineup headaches and even national headlines. Rubin's reputation also took a hit among scouts, simply due to him missing 35 games in his NHL draft year. He wasn't a blue-chip prospect, so he needed all the exposure he could get.

Roy opted to cut ties with Rubin the following offseason, shipping him to a division rival. Upon reflection, Rubin would commit to playing a full season without interruption for the Gatineau Olympiques. At the age of 18, he had concluded that his religion's strict rules could not be upheld within the world of hockey.

"I knew at a certain point in time I would have to (conform)," Rubin recalled recently, noting the original arrangement with Roy made him feel like an "outsider" in the dressing room. "That’s why it was so hard at that time, and that's why it resulted in all that press. It was a big deal at that level."

Rubin ultimately failed to get within striking distance of an NHL roster. He transferred to the Alberta junior league after three QMJHL seasons and then tested out the Canadian university circuit before eventually turning pro in 2011. Next, he played three years in France, two in the U.S.-based Southern Professional Hockey League, half a year in Hungary, and is currently in his third full year in the LNAH.

"Life's about growth, and if I'm not in the NHL, big deal," Rubin said. "I love playing (in the LNAH) and it's up to me to figure out what I want to do and how to do something else with my life. … Just because I went through what I went through doesn’t mean I have to look back and regret what happened to me."

Of course, to draw a straight line between their differing commitments to faith and their trajectories in hockey would be unfair to Zucker and Rubin. There are so many variables to consider, including talent, work ethic, opportunity, and luck. However, their diverging paths illustrate the complex nature of devoting oneself to a pair of demanding, ritualistic pursuits.

While no two situations are the same, the hockey-religion balancing act requires sacrifice, flexibility, and daily integration. Look no further than the Mormon forward, the Christian defenseman, and the Sikh broadcaster profiled below.

Hockey is largely considered a secular sport, and the NHL is arguably the least overtly religious league among North America's big four. The sport's culture of conformity and its lack of diversity might help explain why it lags behind football, basketball, and baseball in that department. Still, some in the professional hockey world are all-in on both sport and religion - they just tend to keep a low profile.

Derek Ryan qualifies. The Calgary Flames center is likely the only Mormon in the NHL. "I could be wrong," he said, "but I'm almost 100% certain." Previously Catholic, he converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 2013 after being exposed to the religion by his wife and in-laws. "It's something that takes over your lifestyle," Ryan said.

A typical workday for Ryan begins with a 20-commute from Calgary's West Springs neighborhood to the Flames' downtown arena. Via Bluetooth, he listens to various scriptures - one chapter from the Book of Mormon, one chapter from the Bible, and a cataloged sermon from a well-known church leader - through the speaker system in his black Chevy Tahoe. This is Ryan's time to reflect, recalibrate, and bridge his two passions. Homelife revolves around two young, energetic children, so the drive to the Scotiabank Saddledome supplies the 32-year-old with a period that's free of distraction.

Ryan's spirituality spikes again in the quiet moments before each game. He recites a prayer in the hallway near the Flames' dressing room, asking God for "blessings, help, and strength" for himself and his teammates. "Hockey is important for me, important for my family, important for providing for my family," he said. "But at the same time, there's a lot more to life than hockey."

Weekend road trips add a layer of difficulty. Multiple times this season alone, Ryan has participated in the team's Sunday morning skate and then skipped his pregame nap. Whether he's in Calgary or California, he spends two hours of his afternoon at church, taking part in the sacrament - a Mormon ordinance similar to a Catholic communion - before joining a small group for Sunday School, which is a Bible study for churchgoers of all ages.

Ryan has this Sunday detour down to a science. He fires up a mobile app called Member Tools, locates the closest Mormon church on the virtual map, and heads out the door in search of the venue. He'll walk, take an Uber, or, if he's in a warm locale, ride an electric scooter to the church and back. Time's precious on any game day, but finding a spiritual equilibrium is equally important.

"I think I've yet to miss out on going to church," said Ryan, who's in his fourth full NHL season. "To be honest, I've played some of my best games when I've been tired, forgotten that nap, and chosen to go to church."

Over the years, Ryan has found religion to be an icebreaker with new teammates, who tend to pick his brain about his personal beliefs. Their questions will range from whether Mormon men can have multiple wives (they can't) and why the consumption of coffee and alcohol - longtime staples of hockey culture - is forbidden by the religion. "I think the most important takeaway is that we're only putting things in our body that we need to function," Ryan explained.

Baking faith into his everyday life helps Ryan safeguard against the rigors of an 82-game season. The modern NHLer goes through an incredibly regimented schedule for 8-10 months of the year. Players are expected to be present at certain places for specific times: board a plane here, catch a bus there, attend this video session, talk to reporters during that window. Being a Mormon is his own thing; a productive vice.

"It's pretty important for me to rely on my faith to get me through the hard times or to bring me down from the high times. The season's long," said Ryan, whose point production has ebbed and flowed through 35 games this season. "You don't want to get too high, get too low. My faith keeps me pretty grounded."

In the offseason, when his allotment of free time expands and the family returns to his home state of Washington, Ryan helps Mormons in the Spokane area construct their family trees as part of his "calling" within the community. He also delivers talks about his conversion story and about the winding road he traveled through multiple leagues to reach the NHL.

"You look at my hockey journey, along with my spiritual journey, and it's crazy how I've been blessed," Ryan said. "I made the jump from the Austrian league to the Swedish league, from the Swedish league to the American league, from the American league to the NHL. I just don't think it's a coincidence. … I feel like I was guided and helped along by my heavenly father."

The rookie party is a rite of passage for NHL players. It means you've climbed the mountain and aren't scheduled to descend anytime soon. Particulars of the tradition vary based on the club and era, but nowadays, it's typically a players-only night out on the road that involves a fancy dinner - paid for by the first-year guys, of course - some form of light hazing, and alcohol consumption.

Ryan and former teammate Jaccob Slavin, who also abstains from drinking alcohol for religious reasons, threw the Carolina Hurricanes' veterans for a loop ahead of their respective rookie parties four and five years ago.

Instead of downing liquor, Ryan whipped back shots of grapefruit juice, Tabasco sauce, and milk. Slavin was offered nothing but lactose - "milk, like, a lot of milk" - and reports it was a tolerable night with only minor side effects. "I didn't puke, but I was backed up for a couple of days," he added with a grin.

Slavin, who at 25 is one of the best defensemen on the planet, takes his beliefs very seriously. Over the course of his young career, he's never shied away from speaking about his devotion to God and having a "bigger purpose" on Earth as a nondenominational Christian. Slavin works closely with Hockey Ministries International, wholly aware that the NHL spotlight affords him a rare platform.

"Even here," he said, motioning toward a room of reporters at the NHL/NHLPA Player Media Tour this past fall, "it's an opportunity to be able to speak on how God's changed my life. It's not a part of who I am; it is who I am. It's my identity. My identity is not, 'I'm a hockey player who happens to be a Christian,' it's actually, 'a Christian who happens to be a hockey player.'"

While Christianity continues to decline in the United States, there's still a huge portion of the North American population - approximately 75%, according to a recent report - that identifies as Christian. The hockey world isn't a perfect reflection of society, but Christians form the league's most prominent religious group. Active and ex-NHLers like Jarome Iginla, Mike Fisher, Shane Doan, Jordan Staal, David Backes, Stu Grimson, Dan Hamhuis, Jay Beagle, Paul Stastny, and James Reimer have all - at one time or another - discussed their deep ties to the Christian faith, and most clubs offer access to a chaplain.

This dynamic opens the door for off-ice interactions between religiously active players who are scattered across the pro ranks. Case in point: Slavin hops on Skype calls throughout the season - sometimes as often as twice a month - to discuss the prayers and lessons he's currently focused on. Ryan Carpenter and Rocco Grimaldi, of the Chicago Blackhawks and Nashville Predators, respectively, might be on the other end of the line, along with AHL and ECHL players. The calls are facilitated by the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, which says its mission is "to empower the hockey world through the love of Jesus Christ."

Slavin pinpoints the 2010-11 season as the snapshot in time when he took ownership of his faith. While playing for the USHL's Chicago Steel, he was living away from his family's home in Erie, Colorado, for the first time, which forced him to think for himself. Still a teenager, he began building a closer relationship with his religion through prayer and says he's been in "constant communication with God" all decade - both at and away from the rink. Along the way, he's grown up, gotten married, appeared in nearly 350 NHL games, adopted a baby girl, gone on a deep playoff run, and led hockey-based religious retreats.

Slavin doesn't drink or swear, but he tries his best to refrain from judging teammates who like to let loose. "I'm a sinner just like everybody else," he noted.

Really, as he's continued to prove he's more than capable of balancing the double demands of pro sports and deep faith - while remaining totally sincere - Slavin's become the unofficial poster boy for religious NHLers.

"You get the fun poked at you every now and then, but nothing serious where guys are mad at you," he said, later adding: "(Teammates) might understand I'm playing for a different purpose. But it's a purpose that still makes me go out there and give my 110% every game."

Harnarayan Singh tries his best to pray every morning, right after he wakes up. It's important, he says, to "meditate on the Lord's name" regardless of what lies ahead. If it's a particularly busy day, like a Saturday during the hockey season, he might recite passages to himself while ironing his outfit. Which is fine, because multi-tasking from the comfort of his home or a cozy hotel room is a cinch compared to the trials of his old set-up.

From 2008 until 2011, Singh would fly late Friday night on his own dime from Calgary to Toronto to be the host and play-by-play announcer for Hockey Night in Canada: Punjabi Edition, a position he retains today for Sportsnet. Blurry-eyed, he would board another plane early Sunday morning, mere hours after putting a bow on the six-hour HNIC show. Then, back in Alberta, he'd make a beeline to the Gurdwara, a place of assembly and worship for Sikhs, where his sister would be waiting with a fresh set of traditional clothing in hand. In this juggling act of career and faith, there was literally no time to spare.

"It is a delicate dance," Singh said, alluding to the past and present. HNIC Punjabi is now filmed in Vancouver, slashing the commute time. Still, the travel keeps him really busy. "I don't get as much sleep and I end up taking a lot of crazy-early flights," he added. "But that's what I've had to do to maintain this."

Like most practicing Sikh men, Singh wears or carries the five articles of his faith: unshorn hair, cotton underwear, a wooden comb, an iron bracelet, and a small, ceremonial iron sword. The native of Brooks, Alberta, a small town 115 miles southeast of Calgary, avoids alcohol and tobacco, doesn't eat meat, and reads from the Sri Guru Granth Sahib, a main Sikh scripture, on a daily basis. He's fully committed.

Singh, 34, sticks out among NHL broadcasters in a lot of the same ways that 25-year-old forward Jujhar Khaira sticks out when TV cameras pan to the Edmonton Oilers' bench. Both are of Indian descent and practice a religion that's foreign to legions of hockey fans. They're viewed by some as exotic, yet, in reality, they have plenty in common with, say, the middle-aged white guy watching from home.

"You could say I've followed hockey religiously," Singh said, pun intended. The NHL has always been an obsession for him, and in his teen years, he realized a career in media could satisfy that hunger. It also doesn't hurt that Singh's a natural on the mic.

Within the walls of his temple, he sings and plays multiple Kirtan instruments, including the harmonium, a hand-pumped organ, as an outlet for staying close to God and giving back to the community. In the summer, while his media colleagues unwind at cottages, Singh shifts his primary focus to performing.

His family has hosted Sikh musicians throughout his life, so Singh's been able to make inroads in the industry. Occasionally, he'll even hop on tour with a famous band, visiting cities throughout North America. Those are tamer settings than NHL arenas, and the microphones are hooked up to PA systems, not a national broadcast. But, at the core of both pursuits, he feels joy and great gratitude. "I've actually lived out dreams in the hockey world and I've lived out dreams in the Sikh world," Singh said.

Similar to how a non-white player might get targeted on social media, Singh's Twitter lights up every once in a while. His account receives offside comments about his appearance and complaints about basic elements of the HNIC Punjabi show. "There's this misconception out there that we're trying to not have people tune in in English," he said. "That's not it at all. Part of it is growing the sport, and we're introducing the game to a lot of different people. The other part is sometimes it's more entertaining for someone to hear it in their first language. Someone who is more familiar with Punjabi can get more out of it by watching it in Punjabi."

It's not all negative. Singh, who's best known for his famous "Bonino! Bonino! Bonino!" call from the 2016 NHL playoffs, says he's received near-universal acceptance at rinks, and that he's noticed a rush of Sikhs gravitating toward the game in recent years.

The cultural gap, once wide, is beginning to close.

"I have a lot of people come up to me and talk about the latest issue or, 'Did you see last night's game?' or say, 'I can't believe what happened.' There's a lot of hockey chatter at the temple," Singh said. "There's a lot of people who are practicing Sikhs, initiated Sikhs, who are big hockey fans.

"That's the beauty of Canada. It doesn't matter who you are, we're all in love with this game."

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

Taylor Hall says he remembers each of his playoff games in "great detail."

That's either a testament to the 28-year-old's memory retention or a reminder of how sad it is that a player of Hall's caliber has dressed for a grand total of five NHL postseason contests.

Either way, Hall feels he's finally in a position to reverse his fortunes by joining the Arizona Coyotes, who sat atop the Pacific Division and ranked 10th among 31 teams in points percentage prior to Monday's slate of games.

"That's what this is all about," Hall said during a conference call Monday following the blockbuster trade that sent him from the lowly New Jersey Devils to the 19-12-4 Coyotes. "It's not about what line I play on, or what power-play unit (I'm assigned to). I'm really just looking forward to winning games."

We'll get back to the fit with Hall and Arizona, but, first ...

What's the Devils' angle?

It's never a positive sign when the team parting ways with the only NHL player in the deal - a star, no less - receives nothing concrete in return. For that reason, Devils general manager Ray Shero gets a failing grade for his role in the Hall trade.

Shero shipped Hall and AHL forward Blake Speers to Glendale for a top-three-protected first-round pick in 2020, a conditional third-round pick in 2021, and three promising but unspectacular prospects in forwards Nick Merkley and Nate Schnarr, and defenseman Kevin Bahl.

The Devils, who are retaining $3 million (50%) of Hall's salary cap hit, clearly hope the Coyotes go on a deep playoff run and convince the winger, who's a pending unrestricted free agent on July 1, to stay long term. The 2021 pick becomes a second-round selection if the Coyotes win a playoff round or re-sign Hall. And it becomes a first-round selection if the Coyotes win a playoff round and re-sign Hall - a double whammy, of sorts.

"I've been open to anything, and I haven't closed the book on signing with any team prior to July 1," Hall said of his thought process in the leadup to his first crack at testing the UFA market.

So, if the best-case scenario for Shero and the Devils comes to fruition, it's fair to say this trade will look decent, in hindsight. The haul would be two first-rounders and three prospects for a star on an expiring contract and an AHLer.

Shero could then walk away from the disaster that is the 2019-20 season and feel he's at least made a little progress toward a better future. Right now, though, there's no way New Jersey can claim this year is going according to plan with Hall officially gone, Shero changing coaches earlier this month, and last offseason's splashy additions contributing less than expected.

Now, if one of the other scenarios play out, in which that 2021 pick remains a third-round selection or is upgraded to a second-rounder, this trade will be a tougher pill to swallow for Jersey.

Realistically, given Arizona's trajectory this season, the 2020 first-rounder is probably going to be a mid- or late-round pick. Then, you factor in the prospects, who, based on sources around the league, don't project to be NHL stars, and there's not much to get excited about.

One, two, or perhaps all three of Merkley, Schnarr, and Bahl may blossom into everyday NHLers - the latter, a 6-foot-7 blueliner with some solid upside, is considered the best of the bunch - but that's a long shot. In the end, the Devils didn't yield a single blue-chip prospect for the best rental in the league. That hurts.

How's the fit in Arizona?

As for Arizona and GM John Chayka, there's significantly less hedging required because the fit with Hall is, in a word, apt.

This is exactly the kind of trade that Coyotes fans have been clamoring for since Chayka was crowned GM in spring 2016. Yes, the 30-year-old has developed a reputation as one of the NHL's most active executives, but he hadn't landed one bonafide offensive spark plug prior to the Phil Kessel swap.

Hall injects a dynamism that was sorely lacking within Arizona's forward group. To get him at this rate, and in the middle of December rather than late February, promotes this to a two-thumbs-up victory for a club that believes in itself already.

"He's a game-changer. He's an electric player. He's one of my favorite players to watch, just in terms of entertainment value," Chayka said. "Then, when you really start to dig into some of the deeper analytics of how this guy impacts the game and impacts his teammates in so many different ways."

It helps that Hall is motivated to turn around a season in which his counting stats aren't matching his credentials as the Hart Trophy winner of two seasons ago. Though a career-low shooting rate of 5.5% suggests he's been the victim of poor puck luck, Hall's accumulated just six goals and 19 assists for 25 points in 30 games this year.

"I feel like the organization in Arizona does a lot of due diligence. They respect the analytics of the game, and for them to want to pursue a player like myself, it's definitely flattering," said Hall. "It's been a tough year, and it hasn't gone the way that I've wanted, but coming into a new situation and a team that has confidence that you can help them, it's a really nice thing."

Hall is a rare goal-scoring winger who tilts the ice for his teams. He's speedy, crafty, and consistently on the right side of the puck. Over his career, which includes six years in Edmonton and three-and-a-half in New Jersey, Hall's teams have owned 50.7% of the even-strength shot attempts when he's on the ice, versus 46.1% of the attempts when he's not. Both Hall's supreme abilities and the poor quality of his former squads have contributed to that huge gap.

The Coyotes, meanwhile, aren't serial winners themselves. Only the Buffalo Sabres have a longer playoff drought than Arizona's seven-season skid. The narrative around the organization is changing, though, with new ownership giving the green light to spending to the cap, Chayka improving the roster bit by bit and now enormously, and head coach Rick Tocchet providing ultimate credibility.

"We know Taylor wants to win. That's kind of the main criteria for him to re-sign," Chayka said. "We feel like we have a chance to win for a long time here, so we feel like our opportunity is as good as anybody."

The Coyotes are set between the pipes, with Darcy Kuemper and Antti Raanta providing one of the best one-two punches in the NHL. Their group of defensemen, led by Oliver Ekman-Larsson and Jakob Chychrun, is deep. Up front, they've traditionally failed to generate much offense but have some guns, including Kessel, Nick Schmaltz, and Clayton Keller.

It'll be fascinating to watch how Hall's presence alters Tocchet's forward combinations and how opposing teams change their defensive tactics. All of a sudden, a creative guy like Keller is less of a priority for shutdown units and can move about the ice more freely.

Regardless of what transpires over the next few months, as the Coyotes attempt to clinch that elusive playoff spot, Chayka made what he calls a "potentially once-in-a-lifetime" move. He believes the Coyotes' timeline aligns well with Hall's and has been asking a simple yet profound question both internally and externally: "Why not us, at this stage?"

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

San Jose Sharks general manager Doug Wilson said he couldn't allow himself to repeat a mistake.

Five seasons ago, as his team struggled out of the gate, Wilson opted to keep head coach Todd McLellan employed through 82 games. The Sharks ultimately missed the playoffs. Wilson made it known he's learned a lesson, so he dismissed Pete DeBoer on Wednesday after a 15-16-2 start to the current campaign.

"Who knows what it's going to take, and where you're going to have to get to to make the playoffs, but we will never give up on this season," Wilson told reporters Thursday in San Jose, a few hours before the Sharks played the Rangers. "We know that if we play the right way, we feel ... that we can put ourselves in that position. How we perform will dictate what we do later in the year, but there is just something about our team (that's off)."

Wilson referred to this "off"-ness multiple times during his media availability, noting that the underachieving squad had developed an energy problem under DeBoer and should benefit from a new leading voice in the dressing room. Bob Boughner, in his first season as DeBoer's assistant, has taken over on an interim basis, inheriting a litany of problems and the league's seventh-worst points percentage one-third of the way into the schedule.

"I really do believe this team has more," said Boughner, the head coach of the Florida Panthers the last two seasons.

That's the crux of the coaching switcheroo: Does this veteran-laden, top-heavy team really have more to give, or is Wilson's first in-season coaching change during a 17-year stint as GM simply a shot in the dark?

Let's not forget the Sharks collected the sixth-most regular-season wins in the NHL during DeBoer's tenure, hitting the 45- or 46-win mark in the four previous seasons. They made the 2016 Stanley Cup Final and the 2019 conference finals. Despite failing to win it all, San Jose accomplished plenty. But the Sharks have already been trying to forestall the inevitable closure of their contention window for a couple of years. Based on the eye test and underlying numbers, they seem closer this season to an average team than an elite one.

"Have we played up to our expectations? No, we haven't," Wilson said. "Have we been inconsistent? Yes, we have."

For starters, San Jose's goaltending has been atrocious. (The team has been horribly undisciplined, too, but luckily has the league's best penalty kill.) The Sharks also struggle to generate high-quality shots, leaving them 24th in goals scored (2.64 per game), and have trouble suppressing high-quality shots and goals against at five-on-five (2.67, 31st).

Here's a look at the even-strength numbers through 33 games:

(Source: Natural Stat Trick)

It's fair to suggest that unless Boughner can unlock something hidden beneath the surface, the era of franchise glory has probably ended. Captain Joe Pavelski, Gustav Nyquist, and Joonas Donskoi - three key contributors - left in the offseason. Successful Sharks teams have dined out on what Boughner calls "attack mode," and the current core may be too old to suddenly produce this brand of swarming offense.

Let's pretend that Wilson miraculously solves the goalie issue over the next year or so, and the Martin Jones/Aaron Dell duo is no longer a nightly liability. What then for this capped-out team? Not only is San Jose tied with Minnesota for the oldest roster in a young man's league, it has five players making at least $7 million a year for the foreseeable future. Evander Kane, Logan Couture, Erik Karlsson, Brent Burns, and Marc-Edouard Vlasic are still fine players in their own ways, but they're also aged 30, 28, 29, 34, and 32, respectively. Both Thornton and Patrick Marleau are 40 - way past their best-before dates.

The Sharks' prospect pipeline isn't overflowing with blue-chippers, and the club doesn't own a first-round pick in the 2020 draft thanks to the Karlsson trade. A quick retool doesn't appear to be available. Even if Timo Meier and Tomas Hertl - 23 and 26, respectively, and oozing with talent - break through as dominant stars, which may still happen, it likely won't be enough to keep the Sharks in contention for division or conference titles in the near future.

Only one team wins the Cup each year. You can be a model franchise for decades, with an excellent culture and smart people in charge, and still lack a championship to show for it. Luck, timing, and other uncontrollable variables have a great effect on results. That's essentially what's happened with San Jose. Boughner will do what he can over the rest of the season, but it's up to Wilson to determine if this is the start of the end or the beginning of a resurgence.

At this point in the season and the core's collective career arc, the smart money is on this being the end of the road.

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

Warning: Story contains coarse and offensive language

The messages flooded into Daniel Carcillo's inboxes Tuesday.

Dozens of former and current hockey players, some of whom Carcillo knows well and others he's never met, reached out on Instagram and Twitter to share stories or ask for guidance. They felt empowered by the courage of former NHLers Akim Aliu and Michal Jordan, who had gone public this week with their accounts of playing for Calgary Flames coach Bill Peters.

Expect more players to speak out sooner than later about their treatment by hockey coaches.

"I hope that these abusers are uneasy today, have a hard time sleeping," Carcillo, a retired NHL fighter who's become a fierce advocate for player health and wellbeing, said Tuesday night. "I hope that some of them find the courage to not wait until they're called out but just come out right now."

Peters is accused of hurling racial epithets at Aliu and physically abusing Jordan during coaching stints with the Chicago Blackhawks' AHL team and with the Carolina Hurricanes, respectively, earlier this decade. (Peters hasn’t addressed either matter and remains employed by the Flames while the team and league investigate.)

Mike Babcock, meanwhile, has admitted to humiliating Mitch Marner a few years ago. The story only became public after the Toronto Maple Leafs fired the coach last week amid a losing streak, but that disclosure prompted Aliu to speak out.

Pulling back the curtain on the styles and tactics of two high-level coaches is fueling a broader conversation about some of the problems embedded in hockey culture.

"I believe in karma," Carcillo said, "and I think what you're seeing is a reckoning of sorts."

Programmed this way

The root of the issue is this: Hockey, like many sporting cultures, has developed its own set of rules because of the zero-sum nature of winning and losing games.

A regular workplace has structures and policies in place to report a person in power who abuses a worker emotionally, mentally, or physically. Many hockey team environments, however, don't work that way. Abusive actions are accepted and even lauded in pursuit of team-building, victory, and championships.

Coaches determine a player's ice time, linemates, and practice conditions. General managers determine if a player will be traded, demoted, or released. Authority figures in hockey wield great power over those who report to them.

"There shouldn't be this ivory-tower mentality to hockey operations," said Rachel Doerrie, a former analyst for the New Jersey Devils who now works for the York University athletic department. "Obviously, they're coveted positions, but it's not a license to be a terrible human being. You still should treat your employees with decency and respect."

For years and years, hockey coaches at all levels have used their influence within the team structure to embarrass players, like Babcock did with Marner. They justify their actions by talking about the art of motivation and the drive to win. Such psychological tricks can become so ingrained in the culture that everybody eventually accepts their presence and sees them as part of the process.

When these tactics become especially widespread, trickling all the way down to minor hockey, they're less likely to ring alarm bells. "I don't think (NHL) players realize the risk that they're under because they're so fucking programmed," Carcillo said - programmed, he argues, to expect mistreatment.

Carcillo made headlines last year when he said that, among other incidences of rookie hazing in the 2002-03 OHL season, his Sarnia Sting teammates stuffed him in a bus bathroom naked. The 34-year-old has also admitted to being part of the problem at one point in his life.

"I look back on my fights, and this person that I was on the ice and off the ice, and the way I treated people the first five years of the (NHL), and before I found rehab and spirituality at 25, and I just can't believe how much of a trained assassin I was," Carcillo said. "I can't even recognize that person, and I never want to, you know? It's brutal, man. And it's really, really, really hard to guard against because (coaches) start with you at 4 (years old). It needs to change, it needs to be systematic, and it needs to start with the NHL."

The incident involving Aliu and Peters, in which Aliu says Peters berated him for playing what the coach called "n-----" music in the dressing room, has been corroborated by teammates in interviews with TSN. But until Aliu made his pronouncement on Twitter this week and reporters looked into it, Peters' alleged actions stayed within the teams' bubbles for years.

"It's all out of fear and all out of being the same, right?" said Brock McGillis, a former goalie who is working to make hockey more respectful and inclusive. "If the black guy didn't come out and say, 'This happened to me,' and it instead happened in a room full of white people or white hockey guys, is anyone going to come out and speak? Or, is anyone going to come out and speak when they're using homophobic language (in a hockey dressing room)?"

McGillis, the first pro hockey player to publicly come out as gay, believes the typical North American hockey environment can still be toxic because of its built-in "pack mentality." Arenas and dressing rooms are segregated places often lacking diversity. Abusive behaviors are passed down from coaches and teammates, breeding insularity and conformity from a young age. The behaviors can intensify as players get older and the stakes increase. McGillis believes the problem is not specific to individuals but is systemic.

"When they're done playing, they stay in the sport," McGillis said. "They coach, they manage, they do different things within it. Not a lot of people who play hockey leave hockey."

The funnel contributes to an atmosphere of limited accountability. Hazing and bullying - as well as the use of homophobic, racist, and sexist language - become ingrained in pockets of hockey's culture. The issues exposed by NHL players this week aren't new; they've just reached a critical mass.

"It makes me sick to think about. It has to change," said Doerrie, who's made inroads in a male-dominated sport but not without encountering sexism along the way.

"Hockey's already behind when it comes to social issues," she said. "No one can make an argument that it isn't. And if it doesn't change (soon), it's going to be even further behind."

Searching for solutions

McGillis has seen the effect of telling his own story - of coming out after years of internal struggle and fear of acceptance. He is adamant that there's great utility in addressing the various issues surrounding hockey culture and sports cultures at large. Stories can trigger change.

"The sad thing with sport is that it has so much opportunity to do good," he said. Sports promote teamwork, discipline, and the value of hard work, but not necessarily how to respect one another or be inclusive, he noted. "Why can't we learn to work with people who are different than ourselves?"

TSN reported Wednesday that NHL teams are internally discussing what constitutes unacceptable behavior in coaches' interactions with players. "The bottom line is that it's possible to be demanding without being disrespectful," one GM told Gord Miller.

Carcillo - who has been at the forefront of not only the conversation about hockey culture, but also discussions relating to head trauma - says he couldn't care less about Peters and his job security. Instead, he cares about the victims, their stories, and flipping the script on those abusing their power.

Carcillo's 5-year-old son isn't allowed to enroll in hockey right now because dad doesn't trust the people in charge. "I love the game of hockey," Carcillo said over the phone. "But I will not subject my son to that."

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

Believe it or not, roughly one-quarter of the 2019-20 NHL season is in the rearview.

It's featured a boatload of goals - 6.16 per game, to be exact, which is the highest average since 2005-06. Nine players are on pace for 100 points. Every night seems to feature at least one crazy comeback. Plus, the volatility (the Stars' roller coaster, for one) and the unpredictability (surprising start from the Oilers, disappointing start from the Flames) sure seem off the charts.

With all of that in mind, let's examine some statistical developments at the team level that are helping shape the season:

Shorthanded Avs

Resilience is the word that best sums up the Avalanche's first quarter of the season. Mikko Rantanen and Gabriel Landeskog, two-thirds of the club's incredible No. 1 forward line, have missed a combined 24 games. Yet, Nathan MacKinnon and friends march on. ManGamesLost.com estimates Colorado has lost the equivalent of five standings points due to injuries. Only the Penguins (6.3) have lost more.

It's impressive what the Avs have been able to wrangle out of 22 games, especially on an individual level. MacKinnon, who's sixth in league scoring, is crafting a compelling Hart Trophy case alongside guys like Matt Calvert, Joonas Donskoi, and Andre Burakovsky. He's taken it upon himself to drive the offensive train, firing 104 shots on goal, trailing just Alex Ovechkin in that department. On the back end, the dynamic Cale Makar is on pace for a ridiculous 93 points, and he doesn't look out of place defensively. The idea of MacKinnon, Makar, Rantanen, Landeskog, and another stud blue-liner, Samuel Girard, joining forces for a regular shift later on this season should strike fear into any opponent.

Predictable Bruins

The Bruins' trio of Patrice Bergeron, Brad Marchand, and David Pastrnak once again is proving to be the NHL's deadliest line. Now 1,872 even-strength minutes into their partnership, their mastery has become routine. We probably take for granted how consistent they've been since becoming regular linemates in 2016 and how unique it is for one unit to perform at such a high level in an era of endless game-planning and analysis.

As the table below of shot attempts, scoring chances, and goals illustrates, the rink is almost always tilted Boston's way when Nos. 37, 63, and 88 are on the ice together.

When all three are on the bench, however, the Bruins certainly aren't world-beaters: In 717 even-strength minutes this season, the club's share of shot attempts, scoring chances, and goals dip to 48%, 46%, and 48%, respectively, according to NaturalStatTrick.

The line features an all-time two-way forward between an ultra-skilled pest and a world-class sniper. Together, they set the tone for the Atlantic Division-leading Bruins, who pace the NHL in goal differential (plus-22) and regulation wins (14). What more could you want seven weeks into the season?

Focused Islanders

There are many trademarks of a well-coached hockey club. The Islanders, who lead the NHL in points percentage at .825, check off several of those boxes.

Barry Trotz's squad doesn't crumble under pressure, having won nine of 11 contests in which it's surrendered the first goal. New York wins no matter who has been tapped to man the pipes, as both Thomas Greiss (.934 save percentage) and Semyon Varlamov (.912 SV%) are providing a reliable last line of defense behind a team that limits high-danger opportunities. In fact, nine of the Islanders' 13 wins have come in one-goal games.

Mat Barzal, the team's lone household name, has developed into a quality three-zone center. The crafty 22-year-old is on pace for 82 points, and according to The Point Hockey, averages 1:06 of offensive zone puck possession per game, which ties him with Connor McDavid for third best in the league. Also, Barzal is tracking toward career highs in virtually all shot metrics, suggesting he's found the right balance between creativity and conformity within Trotz's system. As a whole, the Isles have pieced together an excellent first 20 games and look equipped to defeat any and all opponents.

Hopeful Coyotes

Coyotes general manager John Chayka is mainly known for three things: his age, background in analytics, and willingness to wheel and deal. Perhaps we should add "his selection of Conor Garland" to the list. Garland leads Arizona with 10 goals this season and is looking like a fifth-round steal for Chayka and his staff. The 23-year-old hasn't played nearly as many NHL games as some of his 2015 draft classmates, but he's tallied 23 goals in 70 career contests.

Thanks to a paltry salary, Garland's technically the league's best veteran bargain, according to CapFriendly's cost-per-point metric (entry-level deals excluded):

While Garland's been a nice story, Darcy Kuemper's been the club's early-season MVP. He's banked a Vezina Trophy-worthy first 15 games (league-leading .935 save percentage), and the best part is that he's been complemented well by partner Antti Raanta (.922 SV% in eight games). Given that these three standouts play in the desert, their performances have largely flown under the radar. Nevertheless, they've been essential to Arizona's 13-8-2 record and its quest to end a seven-season playoff drought.

Underachieving Leafs

Based off head coach Sheldon Keefe's first game behind an NHL bench - a convincing 3-1 win over the Coyotes on Thursday - the Maple Leafs might actually be OK. Stylistically, they looked like a vastly different team. The players, free of Mike Babcock's shackles, have enough skill and talent to stabilize this sinking season. It's essential now that they tackle some concerning trends head-on.

Case in point: Not only have both special teams been ineffective on the surface (17.6% power play and 74.1% penalty kill), the underlying data paints an even uglier picture. Last year, the power play generated a league-high 62.4 shots on goal per 60 minutes. This year, it's generating 50.9 shots to rank 22nd. The penalty kill, meanwhile, has gone from 10th overall in terms of shot suppression (48.3 shots against per 60) to 26th (61.3). The Leafs also struggle to, in Babcock's words, "start on time." Their period-by-period goal differential bears this out, with a minus-12 in the first period, plus-9 in the second, and minus-4 in the third. In order to salvage a key season, execution in all situations must improve drastically.

Curious Blackhawks

An interesting trend has emerged 22 games into the Blackhawks' season: 23.1% of the club's goals have been credited to first-year players, which is the largest share in the NHL. Columbus ranks second at 18.2%, the Rangers are third at 15.6%, and the other 28 teams fall between 12.3% and 0%. Kirby Dach and Dominik Kubalik have bagged five goals, Alex Nylander has four, and Adam Boqvist has one. Considering none of these rookies are playing major roles (Boqvist, who was demoted to AHL Rockford last week, leads the group in ice time at 14:27 per game), you have to wonder how much of their early production is smoke and mirrors. Regardless, it's an encouraging sign.

For a team trying its darndest to retool around 31-year-old franchise cornerstones Patrick Kane and Jonathan Toews, every contribution helps. Forwards Alex DeBrincat and Dylan Strome - 22 and 21, respectively - have blossomed into core members, providing hope for a return to glory. The Hawks are hanging out near the playoff cutoff line in the Western Conference at the moment. For a club that imploded last November and remains under construction, it's a decent spot to occupy.

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

It had to happen. It was merely a matter of when, where, and in which fashion.

The Toronto Maple Leafs fired head coach Mike Babcock on Wednesday, and though it registered as a relative bombshell, it really came as no surprise to anyone with their finger on the pulse of the sport.

What started as a season of great hope in Toronto has been derailed through one-quarter of the schedule - punctuated by a six-game losing streak - and someone had to pay. The coach almost always goes first.

The timing - the team is in the middle of a road trip and there are 59 games remaining in the regular season - isn't especially eyebrow-raising, either. Babcock's seat had gotten increasingly hot, and while it appeared process-driven general manager Kyle Dubas might ride out the storm a little longer, particularly following a solid effort Tuesday in Vegas, he had clearly seen enough. By the end, it was glaringly obvious that club president Brendan Shanahan, not Dubas, hired Babcock.

Now, with Babcock gone, finger-pointers have just two targets: the players and Dubas himself.

Injuries and a difficult fall schedule have played a role, but both parties deserve a large portion of the blame alongside Babcock for the Maple Leafs' ghastly start. The players have often looked lifeless and aimless, and at times on a completely different page than their coach. And Dubas assembled an NHL roster that doesn't look worthy of the endless preseason hype.

Babcock departs with a 173-133-41 record in four-plus seasons behind the Maple Leafs' bench. In the end, he ultimately wore out his welcome. He was too stubborn and simply unwilling to take Dubas' hockey philosophies at face value and adjust accordingly. Even during his final few games, when the club's 25th-ranked points percentage sunk below the .500 mark, Babcock failed to experiment in any grand way.

Toronto, which is arguably a top-five team in terms of talent, has won nine of 23 games this year, scoring the first goal in only five of those contests. Its special teams are dreadful, ranking 18th (power play) and 27th (penalty kill) in the NHL. Defensively, the Maple Leafs are a complete mess, relying too much on bailouts from goalie Frederik Andersen.

In an alternate universe in which the squad lived up to expectations, Babcock could have been headed for dismissal this spring, anyway. Three consecutive first-round playoff exits will put any coach on thin ice.

Keep in mind that Babcock's exit doesn't solve the greater problem in Toronto. He was a contributor, not the sole author of a 9-10-4 record. Both the eye test and the underlying numbers suggest something is seriously off with this club. Babcock didn't play the games or acquire players, so others must find the answers before the season is officially lost.

The promotion of Sheldon Keefe from the AHL Toronto Marlies gives the organization a temporary reprieve, though. This was Year 5 of Babcock's tenure in Toronto and his 17th season overall as an NHL head coach, while Thursday's game against the Arizona Coyotes will be Keefe's debut. There will be some breathing room as the dust settles and the new guy gets comfortable. The 39-year-old has a blank slate and, eventually, can start covering up any systemic flaws.

Keefe is a smart bet, too, and an in-house winner. He and Dubas were successful together in OHL Sault Ste. Marie, and have carried that over to the AHL level. The duo teamed up in 2018 to claim the Calder Cup. Nine current Maple Leafs players suited up for at least one game for Keefe's 2018 Marlies.

There's familiarity and shared values between GM and coach, and Keefe's aggressive, offense-inducing style should blend well with the on-ice personnel at his disposal. Hopefully, he won't try to shove a round peg into a square hole like Babcock attempted for years. Keefe matches the roster.

However, Keefe - while qualified and bursting with potential - isn't flying to Arizona with a new backup goalie or a magical cure for the power-play woes, and he has access to the same defensemen Babcock had - a struggling Morgan Rielly, a beleaguered Tyson Barrie, a much-maligned Cody Ceci, a developing Travis Dermott, an inexperienced Justin Holl, AHL/NHL tweener Martin Marincin, and a frustrated Jake Muzzin.

What he does bring, though, is a new voice, a new face, and a new mind. And that's a start.

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

GRAND RAPIDS, Mich. - The post-win ritual always began with a quick exchange of text messages between pranksters. Matthew Ford, the veteran captain of the Grand Rapids Griffins, would smirk to himself in the visitors' dressing room as a question beamed from his iPhone.

"Who should we pick on?" video coach Bill LeRoy would text following victories on the road.

After tapping out a short response, Ford and the rest of the AHL squad - players, coaches, staffers - would board the team bus and settle in for the long ride. The next stop might be another minor-league outpost. It might be home. No matter the destination, LeRoy had the stage.

"We'd start pulling out," Griffins head coach Ben Simon recalled, "and Billy would scream at the top of his lungs, 'Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop the bus! Stop the bus!'

"The bus driver would be in shock and be like, 'What's wrong?' And one of the players would be like, 'What's wrong, Billy?!'" Then, it was time for LeRoy to ask the player that Ford had chosen: "Hey, did we remember to pack the two points?"

The punchline hit every time, with the player tabbed to "pack" those cherished standings points - a distinction considered a badge of honor - chuckling along too. "The whole bus," forward Dominic Turgeon said, "would go wild."

Over the past 11 days, reminiscing about that postgame bus ritual and other memories of the quirky LeRoy has helped members of the organization cope with the loss of someone largely unknown to the public but immensely valuable to the Griffins' inner circle.

LeRoy, video coach for the Detroit Red Wings' top affiliate since 2001, died on Nov. 1. The 56-year-old passed away in his Winnipeg hotel room ahead of the Griffins' weekend set against the Manitoba Moose. The cause of death has yet to be determined, though foul play has been ruled out. A diabetic, LeRoy had battled serious health issues for several years.

"Nothing can prepare you for this type of thing," general manager Ryan Martin said. Turgeon spoke for Griffins players, current and former, when he said: "He was family to us."

Bill LeRoy was never much of a hockey player. His brother, Tim, said a local men's league was the height of Bill's on-ice pursuits. He instead excelled at baseball, playing collegiately.

LeRoy also wasn't a typical hockey coach. Sure, he bore the title of "video coach" for 36 seasons - 18 with the IHL's Kalamazoo Wings and then 18 with the Griffins - but he was more of a video savant than a traditional coach, working efficiently behind the scenes. He kept a low profile.

"There were days you didn't even know he was there," said legendary coach Ken Hitchcock, who spent three years in Kalamazoo in the mid-1990s.

This cloak of relative anonymity allowed LeRoy to bring a fresh perspective to meetings. By nature, head coaches live almost exclusively in the moment, focused on the next game or practice. The guy manning a laptop in the bowels of the arena offered an alternative viewpoint.

"Billy always had his opinions, but we had to ask him. He always had his ears open," said Todd Nelson, the head coach who led Grand Rapids to its AHL title in 2017.

From age 20 to 56, LeRoy worked under 18 head coaches. Half of them - Hitchcock, Nelson, Curt Fraser, Kevin Constantine, Jim Playfair, Guy Charron, Claude Noel, Bruce Cassidy, and Jeff Blashill - graduated to the NHL. Grand Rapids is a model AHL club known for developing and nurturing both coaches and future Red Wings. The odd couple of LeRoy and equipment manager Brad Thompson became the through-line during countless personnel changeovers.

"He was always off my left shoulder. We're always together. And now, I'm a one-man wolf pack," Thompson said. "Even at the airport on the way home (from Winnipeg), I kept looking back. I'm always like, 'Billy, c'mon. Let's go, man! We've got to get going!' That was my job, to get him from Point A to Point B for 20 years."

LeRoy was "a different bird," as former Griffins player Daniel Cleary put it, and there's no shortage of stories to back up the claim. Thompson remembers a young LeRoy asking him for black spray paint on multiple occasions so he could add a shine to his shoes ahead of games. LeRoy's all-time practical joke involved leaving a dead fish in a hot hotel bed to get even with a staffer. "Got him," he dryly told Thompson after the deed was done.

Then there's the time a staffer caught LeRoy ironing his necktie with a coffee pot moments before a road game. "Billy leaned over, put his tie on the table, and put the coffee thing on his tie to iron it out," said Cleary, who's currently a development coach for the Red Wings. "And he wasn't doing it to be funny. That's him. He's just like, 'What are you looking at? I'm trying to iron my tie. What's your problem?' That's him." A grainy image of the act is part of Griffins lore.

Normally, hockey video coaches aspire to move up the ranks, with the ultimate goal of one day becoming a head coach. LeRoy had no such aspirations. "Bill had no interest in anyone else's job," Simon said with a laugh. "None. He came in and he was happy with what he did. He took pride in what he did. And he was good at what he did. This is what he loved to do."

LeRoy was best known for his meticulous work cutting live clips for the coaching staff to watch during periods. He also tracked faceoffs, scoring chances, and time on ice. "You don't realize what you have until it's gone," Simon said of LeRoy's impact on his job.

Brian Lashoff appeared in his first game with the Griffins when he was 18. Now 29, the defenseman is a trusted mentor for young players as Detroit undergoes a significant rebuild. LeRoy was there from Day 1 of Lashoff's tenure and, along with unsung heroes like Thompson, helped create a middle ground between the players and the coaching staff. Bonds grew organically.

"When we won a couple of (Calder) Cups with him, the look on his face is something you'll always remember," Lashoff said, choking up over the memories of 2013 and 2017. "The ovation the guys gave him when he got the Cup at the end, it showed how much he meant to us."

From conversations with more than a dozen of LeRoy's loved ones and colleagues, an overwhelming theme emerges: He was deeply satisfied with living an uncomplicated life. The man cared about his 21-year-old twin children, Tyler and Becca; his parents and brother; his girlfriend, Tami; his hockey team; and that's about it. "My brother," Tim LeRoy said, "was a simple person."

Selfless, too. A few years ago, after the Griffins had bowed out of the playoffs, Martin received a handwritten note from Bill LeRoy. The letter to the GM asked if it would be OK if LeRoy donated his playoff bonus to Simon, who at the time was earning only a small stipend as the newest assistant.

"He knew how much Ben meant to the team, how many hours he had put in, and I just thought it was an unbelievable gesture," Martin said. "I called him up personally, told him, 'That bonus was meant for you. But I appreciate that you recognize what Ben's done.' It showed his character."

A couple of weeks before he died, LeRoy purchased Joe Hicketts' fantasy football team. The Griffins were on the road in Texas when the video coach and defenseman completed the transaction. Almost immediately, the other players in the league pounced, sending LeRoy wild trade proposals.

He didn't bite, but the non-hockey banter benefited everyone. It's the kind of thing that bonds co-workers into family. And then, one Friday in Manitoba, he vanished from their lives.

"Initially, it was just such a shock," forward Matt Puempel said. "You see this person, you have a relationship with them, and you saw them 10 hours earlier or 12 hours earlier. They're on the trip with you, in the same hotel only a few floors apart, and then you hear about this tragedy."

The Griffins are still dealing with the loss and trying to move forward as they await funeral details. Puempel, who made a habit of catching up with LeRoy while coaches held penalty kill sessions with teammates, now sits alone with his thoughts. Ford isn't used to walking by the coaches' room at Van Andel Arena and seeing LeRoy's empty desk and chair. Turgeon misses joking around with LeRoy, a stats guy, about his faceoff numbers.

There are no immediate plans to fill LeRoy's role. "We are going to take some time to let things settle down," Simon said. "Then we will evaluate and see what our needs as a staff are."

Tim LeRoy, who's the equipment manager for the Columbus Blue Jackets, says his brother suffered from various health issues relating to diabetes. Without complaining, he endured kidney and pancreas transplants, a heart surgery, and multiple procedures on his eyes and feet.

Through it all, the Griffins remained a part of his life. A part of his being.

With the LeRoy family in attendance this past Friday, the Griffins honored Bill and then beat the Toronto Marlies 4-1. Players donned "BL" helmet stickers while staffers wore matching patches on their jackets. The 7,000-plus inside Van Andel Arena paused for a moment of silence before puck drop.

"We miss you, Billy," PA announcer Eric Zane said. "But don't worry, we'll always remember to pack the two points."

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.

Don Cherry doesn't represent me. He likely doesn't represent you. The Canada he longs for, and the hockey community he longs for, have both long since passed out of date.

But, in choosing a set of carefully crafted words over swift action for his most recent diatribe, Rogers Communications and its Sportsnet brand continues to make it appear as though Cherry does represent us.

This is inexcusable for a company that, since taking over the Hockey Night in Canada franchise in 2014, has had multiple opportunities to part ways with the divisive commentator. Saturday night was the latest invitation for Sportsnet to take Cherry off the air, and they whiffed.

"Don's discriminatory comments are offensive and they do not represent our values and what we stand for as a network," Sportsnet president Bart Yabsley said in a short statement released Sunday morning in the wake of significant online backlash. "We have spoken with Don about the severity of this issue and we sincerely apologize for these divisive remarks."

A statement such as this - one in which Cherry's boss acknowledges the discrimination and vaguely apologizes for it - is better than nothing. But it's not nearly enough. Sportsnet, and by extension Rogers, one of Canada's largest employers, is enabling xenophobia by keeping Coach's Corner alive in its current form.

In case you missed it, Cherry claimed Saturday during his usual intermission segment that few people in downtown Toronto are wearing poppies ahead of Remembrance Day. Smaller Canadian cities aren't experiencing this issue, he insists, ostensibly suggesting immigrants aren't appreciative of Canada's war history and the country's fallen soldiers.

"You people … you love our way of life, you love our milk and honey, at least you can pay a couple of bucks for poppies or something like that," Cherry said. "These guys paid for your way of life that you enjoy in Canada. These guys paid the biggest price."

Cherry then called those who have purchased a poppy the "good Canadians." The manner in which Cherry delivered his message - full of righteous indignation and fumbling incoherence that is typical for him - left no room for alternative interpretation. He has a specific view of how Canada should be, how it should look, and who should live in it, and that view was broadcast to millions; many of whom are immigrants or second-generation Canadians.

How do you think those who work on the Punjabi production of Hockey Night in Canada feel today?

The NHL and its partners love to tout the 'Hockey is for Everyone' diversity campaign, but the initiative's message gets dragged through the mud whenever the 85-year-old Cherry undermines people who don't look like him. "Hockey is at its best when it brings people together," the NHL said in its own statement, which was released two hours after Sportsnet's. "The comments made last night were offensive and contrary to the values we believe in."

This, of course, is not a one-off incident, and now the ball is in Sportsnet's court. Saying Cherry doesn't represent the company's values in one breath and then trotting him out week after week to a gigantic audience does nothing to solve the core problem. Based on history, a slap on the wrist won't deter Cherry from wading into these waters in the future. Next Saturday will come quick.

Cherry, who has been on Hockey Night in Canada for nearly four decades, doesn't deserve the benefit of the doubt at this point. His unique platform - speaking directly to millions in a peak slot as a part of the sport's most storied brand - is a privilege, not a right. It's time to take that privilege away and hand the primetime role to someone inclusive and open-minded.

On the whole, Cherry's views on hockey are shallow and outdated. Two of his most common shticks revolve around the correlation between wearing expensive suits and winning games, and how bare-knuckle fighting is a necessity. One assumes kids can't respect the game without his approved pre-game uniform, and the other is an affront to everyone who has suffered from the dark toll of rock-em-sock-em hockey. He rarely adds insight to the sport's weekly conversation.

Cherry's hopelessly stuck in the past, and a mountain of evidence has given Rogers and Sportsnet a hell of a case for dismissing him from his role on Hockey Night in Canada. When will enough be enough?

John Matisz is theScore's national hockey writer.

Copyright © 2019 Score Media Ventures Inc. All rights reserved. Certain content reproduced under license.