Some players speak of playing in a rabid Canadian market like they would running a marathon, or writing a book. It is difficult but rewarding — an arduous process you’ll look back on one day and be glad you accomplished.
Others equate it to a penal colony. A place without refuge, where scads of media at each and every practice and game are outnumbered only by the thousands of citizens an NHL player is recognized by when he’s simply trying to take his kids to McDonalds, or pick up a few groceries.
Then there was Roberto Luongo in Vancouver. There, he had found a way to walk the historic Stanley Park sea wall anonymously on game days during the 2011 Stanley Cup final, that soothing exercise everyone who moves to Vancouver says they’re going to do, even if they never do. As calming as that walk is, however, Luongo never found a way to take that sea wall — or its Zen – with him to Boston, where he got repeatedly shelled.
“It’s funny,” Luongo said in Columbus, at the All-Star festivities, “the toughest times in Vancouver were when I felt like I had the easiest time dealing with it. It just took me a while to know how to handle that kind of stuff. Unfortunately, maybe it was a little bit too late when I did realize how to do it.”
“Stuff.” If there was one thing Luongo couldn’t shake in Vancouver, it was the “stuff.” The drama was constant, from the 12-year contract to his admission several trade deadlines later that the same contract now “Sucks.”
Most players have episodes, or incidents, where the focus shifts from their play on the ice to some element of their off-ice life. With Luongo, it worked the other way. His performance in a game would be the topic for a few minutes if he played well, a few hours if he was deemed to have played only average. Then we would return to the contract, the pending trade possibilities, or the able new backup who was fixing to poach his job.
It all affected Luongo “subconsciously more than anything,” he said. “Even when you feel like you’re doing a good job with it, it’s still in the back of your mind. You learn with time. I had a tough time digesting criticism in my early years, but you learn to handle that kind of stuff.”
The biggest tell that the pressure of the Vancouver market was playing on Luongo occurred when he needlessly opened that whole “pumping his tires” can of worms at the Vancouver airport, as the team returned to Boston for Game 6 in 2011. Luongo had the Bruins where he wanted them, down 3-2 in the series, and had only allowed two goals in the three games played at Rogers Arena.
Sure, he wasn’t very good in Boston, but the series was coming back to Vancouver for a Game 7 regardless, and he owned Boston there. But he had to fire up Tim Thomas, the media, the Bruins — everyone, with that stuff about Thomas refusing to “pump his tires.”
It was a sign, Luongo told me later, that he had become “consumed with other things than what’s going on on the ice,” he said. “That’s going to be my biggest regret until I retire, unless I am able to win one.”
Today he is a Florida Panther again. Not particularly close to another shot at Stanley, but at the same time, thankfully a long ways from Stanley Park.
“Nothing wrong with Vancouver,” he said, “I’d just gotten to the point with all that happened that I needed a fresh start. Just start with a blank page and not have to worry about it. There is more than that, but…”
Today, Luongo’s Panthers are seven points out of a playoff spot, and count themselves as another of the NHL’s many rebuilds-in-progress. He has come through two Olympics, and frankly, nearing 36 years old, Luongo may or may not be the one in the crease by the time the Panthers are a legitimate Cup contender.
The recent All-Star Game was more about his kids enjoying the weekend than himself, he hinted, which is always the sign of a guy who isn’t expectant of another invite. It may happen, but unlike five years ago it is not a given anymore.
“He seems happy again,” said Canadian Olympic teammate Ryan Getzlaf. “I think that is the main thing when you talk about a hockey player: if you are in a happy place and you are excited to be at the rink every day, chances are your play is going to go up and you are going to be a better hockey player.”
In the Sunshine State, Luongo is suddenly in the sunset of a fine career. Luckily, he doesn’t have as much “stuff” anymore. These last few seasons, he’s going to be able to make them count.
