Our faces are as blue as the New York Rangers themselves from harping on the need for “grit” and “grind” since last May’s Tom Wilson anarchy.
When Artemi Panarin was brought down to the ice by the lawless enforcer in a mismatched assault, the Rangers were helpless to answer the bell—not only in toughness, but leadership.
The following game against the Washington Capitals that commenced with a line brawl displayed pride, but it was clear that it was still boys to men for the all the chaos that ensued. Chris Drury spent the off-season retooling this identity into a group not to be tossed around again—and that addition of personnel was achieved (to say the least).
But the players that were there to experience this ransack had the summer to contemplate their own new approach—especially with the captaincy position up-in-the-air. It was time to make a statement bright and early in the preseason, and that’s just what Chris Kreider did when prompted with the first whiff of a cheap shot to a teammate.
Upon Ryan Reaves‘ exit after an awkward landing on his leg from a puck battle with P.K. Subban, Kreider had tunnel vision on Subban for the rest of the game. It looked as if Subban slew-footed the 6’2” 225 lbs bruiser and Reaves wasn’t seen again with reports of a lower-body injury.
It was obvious that Kreider was setting the tone for the season upon the first verbal exchange following the play, even after Subban seemed to attempt to aid Reaves. But when Kreider uncharacteristically charged Subban off the opening second period face-off to a scrap Subban dismissed, the bad-taste-in-mouth Tom Wilson remnants were still all over the Garden ice.
This exchange carried itself again into the third period opening face-off when Subban repaid Kreider with the same greeting that ended with a tussle to the ice, and we were left thinking, “this is still going on…?”.
While the Rangers bottom end is now stocked with brawn, the top knows they need to step up in these situations, too. Even if this wasn’t remotely comparable to Wilson’s antics in May, if it had to take a drawn out three period-soap opera production with Subban to establish it, then Kreider’s voice was loud and clear.
Funny enough, the irony is that the player who Kreider was championing was the very player who was brought in to play this role against opposing aggression. Perhaps, the unfamiliar sight of Reaves’ exit was a sink or swim test from the hockey gods—just to be sure everyone wasn’t too dependent on their new big brother ally.
Regardless, the opportunity was presented and seized to communicate to teammates and the league at-large that nothing is going to be tolerated this time—and I’d say that is pretty kosher captain material.