In the fragile family compact of a sports franchise, two feuding players can poison the atmosphere, unsettling everyone else under the same roof. When their differences become irreconcilable and one must leave, the scars can linger—sometimes threatening to collapse the entire house.
For the Vancouver Canucks, the dilemma of severing ties or enduring strained harmony defines their current struggles. Its two star forwards—J.T. Miller and Elias Pettersson—have been deemed incompatible by family elders. Abruptly, one and maybe both face the move to a new home.
Management has signaled that the first decent domicile offered for either will likely prove acceptable. But it also forces the franchise with Stanley Cup aspirations months ago to trade a star of today for something less—perhaps only draft choices and iffy prospects of tomorrow—and take two strides back. The situation is a case study on franchise frailty.
Worse, this domestic dispute has rattled a community that turns to the team to help define its identity. Everywhere one turns in Vancouver, the same question comes up: what’s gone wrong with the Canucks family?
The most obvious answer is that neither Miller nor Pettersson has consistently met high-rent capabilities or expectations. But the malaise is deeper-set. The team can be world-beaters one night and beer leaguers the next. Its first periods often recreate teen years of getting out of bed. And, like a bored employee, it only seems to come alive and show its true self on a road trip. From mediocrity the year before, to within one goal of the semi-finals last season, the regression this year has been breath-stealing, a tragedy for the franchise, and a surprise for the league.
Even stocked with the Norris Trophy defenceman, the Vezina Trophy finalist goaltender, the Jack Adams Trophy coach, the runner-up Jim Gregory Trophy winner as general manager, and a two-time Stanley Cup executive as president—above and beyond the two distaff forwards, a sniper and the guy leading the league in hits—they are battling for the post-season with the Calgary Flames.
A bigger problem might actually be the dismantling. Keeping Miller and Pettersson might perpetuate hazardous chemistry, but a trade would take either a bruising or a brilliant centrepiece from a lineup with no apparent replacement. It would concede the season was done and the ascension had ceased for a team that had seemingly resolved its front-office and on-ice anguish.
Little was helped this week when team president Jim Rutherford confirmed the discord that the players themselves had been trying to deny. He professed that he’s tried coach-player meetings, that the rancour subsides but returns, and there is “no good solution” to it. He appears to acknowledge, too, that he wants a Michelin Star return on any trade but may wind up with Costco hot dogs.
Yet it is also a frank statement about major-league reality. NHL franchises operate under a player salary cap, determined by hockey-related revenue from sources like ticket sales, national and local TV deals, sponsorships, merchandise, and concessions. The salary cap for this season is set at $83.5 million USD per team, based on a negotiated percentage of total league revenues. Players have various contract stages: entry-level contracts at 25 and younger (maximum $950,000 USD per season); then restricted free agency, in which offers can be matched by the home team; and unrestricted free agency if they are 27 or have played seven NHL years, when most make their best coin.
Teams have to deftly fabricate and navigate the so-called “competitive window” arising from its combination of cheaper and pricier players, of earlier-, later-, shorter- and longer-term contracts. It means sadly accepting the loss of good players to those who can squeeze them into their mix, frustratingly bypassing good ones they can’t afford, and usually carrying a few lugs—at times at odds with each other.
Pettersson, 26, carries an $11.6 million USD price tag in the first of an eight-year contract. Miller, 31, carries an $8 million USD salary in the second of a seven-year deal. That’s an expensive, extensive time to paper over the domestic differences.
Until recently, Vancouver found itself with a lineup it liked, a system it was following, a fan base excited about a lengthy playoff run, and in a league learning each game against them would make getting up the next morning a preview of old age. Not so much lately, though.
Optimists cite the three most recent Hockey Night in Canada broadcasts on Saturdays when the Canucks blanked Toronto and defeated star-studded Edmonton and league-leading Washington. They conveniently forget that in the same three weeks, they lost to bottom-dwelling Buffalo, been swamped by Edmonton five nights after that win, edged by Washington, and were smoked by Winnipeg, Los Angeles, and Carolina—a few days further back, shut out by Nashville, an overtime loss to Montreal.
Now, to be fair, they defeated Nashville on Wednesday and are on a three-game winning streak. Victories have the same palliative effect on a team that a wonderful dinner out has on a strained relationship. Until next game, we can say they’re back, they haven’t broken up the band, and maybe they can stay together for the kids.
Kirk LaPointe is The Hub's B.C. Correspondent. He is a transplanted Ontarian to British Columbia. Before he left, he ran CTV News, Southam News and the Hamilton Spectator. He also helped launch the National Post as its first executive editor, was a day-one host on CBC Newsworld, and ran the Ottawa…...
