This one had it all — all the NHL delights that keep you coming back for more.
It had your regulation SOR (Stupid Offside Review) negating a goal on some hard work by Chris Kreider.
There was a tying goal for the visiting Nashville Predators inexplicably allowed, even though the net was plainly knocked loose, then a penalty on Josh Anderson called after the goal was scored, both calls certified by the Toronto war room, where they must have been busy planning the route for the Leafs’ Stanley Cup parade.
Watching Canadiens defenceman Lane Hutson night after night, increasingly in charge of the game at both ends of the ice, is like watching Guy Lafleur put it all together, Jack Todd writes.
John Mahoney / Montreal Gazette
There was the traditional Anderson doesn’t score on the breakaway moment and then a silly Mike Matheson penalty for tripping Steven Stamkos late in the third period, leading directly to Ryan O’Reilly’s game-winning goal on the power play.
So far, this highly anticipated Canadiens season has been a textbook example of the adage that if something can go wrong, it will go wrong. Injuries to key players, especially defenceman Kaiden Guhle and talented winger Ivan Demidov. Mistakes, missed calls, pointless calls, war room interventions that make less sense than a 3 a.m. social media post from the American president.
At the end of the evening, the Nashville Predators waltzed away with a 5-2 victory that didn’t remotely reflect the run of play, the Canadiens saw their early-season losing streak reach three games and Team Clinic got another patient in hard-luck goaltender Samuel Montembeault, who suffered a non-contact injury in practice and had to be replaced by young Jacob Fowler.
The penalty kill gave up two more power-play goals and already, the ever-vigilant fans are blaming associate coach Derek Lalonde for everything from the shaky PK to the high cost of coffee.
Goaltending, supposedly one of the real strengths for this young Canadiens team, has been somewhat unpredictable.
Against the defending champion Carolina Hurricanes in the home opener Tuesday night, Jakub Dobes was whipping around like a scarecrow in a Kansas tornado. You could almost hear Uncle Henry yelling to Auntie Em, “get the gosh-dern rope on that scarecrow, Em, and tie him to that goalpost!”
(Just a thought — but maybe Dobes should try playing in his Birkenstocks. Perhaps that would settle him down.)
Canadiens assistant captain Mike Matheson has words with referee Kendrick Nicholson after the Nashville Predators’ second goal during the second period in Montreal on Thursday. John Mahoney / Montreal Gazette
But goaltending was not the only problem against Carolina. There were plenty of goats to go around. Kirby Dach, who may have more to prove than anyone else on the roster, played like a guy pining for a spot in the ECHL.
Against Carolina, you could have sworn that Matheson and Noah Dobson had just been introduced in the pub, a couple of hours before puck drop for a beer league game.
Juraj Slafkovsky, one of our personal favourites, seemed to be translating every move from English to Slovak before he could act.
It was dire. It was discombobulated. It was discouraging. It was an extension of last spring’s calamitous collapse against these same Hurricanes in the latter stages of the Eastern Conference final.
It was as though a university student, having failed his final examination in the spring, is given the summer to study before taking the exam over and proceeds to fail it again. Think of the Hurricanes as graduate school: right now, they are the test you have to pass if you entertain any fantasies of that parade along the usual route.
For the rest of it, there’s no real cause for concern. Most of the mistakes the Canadiens make can be chalked up to a burning desire to do too much. Dobes will settle down, as he did last season. Guhle and Demidov and (presumably) Oliver Kapanen will return to the lineup.
If Samuel Montembeault can’t return to the backup role soon, Fowler should be ready to fill it — going into camp, after all, Montembeault was supposed to be on his way out, with Fowler as the backup goalie. Instead, Montembeault won the job, then got hurt before he could play a game.
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Against all this, the Canadiens have the enduring excellence of Nick Suzuki, who has quietly climbed the charts season after season to become one of the league’s finest two-way centremen. They have the effervescent presence of Cole Caufield, who can score from any point on the ice at any time. They have Demidov when he’s healthy.
Above all, they have the enduring miracle on ice that is Lane Hutson. I have been watching this old game since 1970. I saw Bobby Orr in his prime. I saw Larry Robinson and Chris Chelios and Denis Potvin and Nick Lidstrom and I’ve seen plenty of Quinn Hughes and Cale Makar.
I’m not foolish enough to say that Hutson is going to be greater than any of those players — but he is unique. Watching him night after night, a 162-pound shadow increasingly in charge of the game at both ends of the ice, is like watching Guy Lafleur put it all together.
On the nights when everything goes wrong and the professional yowlers on social media want to trade Matheson and fire Lalonde and bench Slafkovsky, sit back and relax and watch Hutson operate.
It is for this that we came to sports in the first place.
