So, the Diminished One got his way and now he’s on his way to San Jose.
But that’s the way these things always work, isn’t it?
The player wins in these situations.
The slippery slope upon which coaches and managers are perched is to avoid the situation in the first place.
Disgruntled Dany Heatley’s gone, but the repercussions of his trade demand and the deal which was executed yesterday will be felt — positively or negatively — for some time here.
He’s gone, but the questions linger. While the feeling is more details will be forthcoming — the “real” story almost always emerges once some time passes and space is created — we are no further ahead in understanding how the relationship between Heatley and the Senators could deteriorate so completely. It blew up so publicly and miserably that it destroyed almost any market for Heatley and ended in him being traded for a man fighting not to be branded a flash in the pan, a young player being paid on his potential and possibly the 60th pick in next summer’s NHL draft.
There wasn’t even enough savings in the cap hit ($200,000 US) to hire a fourth-liner.
GM Bryan Murray and the Senators got royally reamed in this whole deal.
Heatley said yesterday this has been building for a while and there were “things I felt strongly about for a long period of time.”
Heatley has said his diminished role on the Senators is the principal reason for demanding a trade and vaguely mentioned some personal issues again yesterday in his first interview as a Shark: “Some personal things that I felt a change was the best thing for everybody involved,” he said.
Basing a trade demand on a diminished role just doesn’t pass the smell test.
Could a player’s ego be so large it commands he be an “integral part” of the team regardless of how that demand affects team performance?
What would be the reaction of most people — particularly competitive people — when feeling their value in the eyes of their superiors and colleagues was slipping? Increase their effort? Or run?
There will continue to be musing about how the Senators and Murray wound up in this mess.
(Just an aside: It would have been interesting to see what would have happened if Heatley had requested a trade and been told, “We made a $45- million commitment to you. Gave you an ‘A.’ Shut up and play.” What’s Heatley do then? Sit out and compromise his spot on Team Canada? Whine to the media he detests?)
Clearly, after meeting with all the parties concerned Friday — Heatley and several of his now ex-teammates — Murray got the vibe that keeping Heatley around had a greater downside than holding out and hoping Heatley would get off to a good start and generate a better deal than the one Murray got from the Sharks.
There’s no question Heatley put Murray in a miserable spot.
But Murray isn’t entirely without blame for the situation. One thing we know is Heatley was unhappy with what he characterized as his diminished role and a strained relationship with rookie coach Cory Clouston. Murray fired Craig Hartsburg and Clouston came in and took measure of the situation. Then a funny thing happened. The Senators became a better team, started winning some games. You’d think that would make everybody happy, right?
Friction between top players and coaches happens all the time. The players usually win that battle, too, over the long term. But Murray has hired his last coach. Clouston is the Senators’ fifth (counting Murray twice) in three years. If Heatley and Clouston couldn’t get along, the timing was bad for everybody, because Murray couldn’t afford to fire another coach, even if he was detested by a 50-goal scorer. The coach would win this one.
Surely a compromise could have been found, as it has been before.
That is why the “personal issues” certainly are the elephant in the dressing room.
Murray weighed his hand, looked at his stack and considered the risk: Was taking the only offer from a team Heatley would accept and clearing the dressing room air more beneficial than holding out for a better deal?
What if both Heatley and the Senators got off to a miserable start?
Murray, left with only two options, opted to cut his losses.
There would be no more gambling on a devalued ace.
