DK: Stop trying to make Jarry happen ... because he sure isn't
I mean, really, how much of Tristan Jarry does everyone inside the Penguins' orbit need to see to be completely convinced that he's precisely what he is, what he's always been?
It's been 11 years since he was drafted, nine years since his NHL debut here, and he's yet to impress upon anyone here so much as a single impactful memory, aside from scoring a goal himself a year ago and, of course, for setting up a playoff overtime winner ... for the opponent:
DKPS
Sorry. Too easy.
But then, maybe it's needed. Because here we are, in yet another season where far too much about this franchise as a whole is being defined by Jarry's goaltending, not least of which was the 6-2 loss to the Avalanche on this Tuesday night at PPG Paints Arena, where the crowd of 15,632 could collectively groan after five of Colorado's first 23 shots.
Nathan MacKinnon's a glorious talent, and he'd wind up with five points, but that wrister glides under Jarry's left armpit, an unsightly scene even if it weren't from such distance.
That one up there was the coup de gross, at least for me. I can take whiffing on a wrister. I can take the odd bad-angle bummer. What I can't take is a lack of fight.
Oh, I dig into all the guilty parties on this backbreaking Valeri Nichushkin power move just below, but that doesn't mean the goaltender gets off. Not when Jarry's heels stay planted way back beneath his bleeping crossbar. Not when Nichushkin's permitted to cut across the crease as if that's his territorial right. And certainly not when, as one NHL evaluator would share with me up in the press box, Jarry should've "chopped him down like a tree coming through there."
But that's what he is, what he's always been.
I asked Jarry afterward to describe that goal:
"He's a big guy, he's got a long reach," he'd begin, referring to Nichushkin's 6-4, 210-pound stature. "And I think I was just being a little too aggressive, trying to poke the puck as he was pulling it from backhand to forehand, and he was able to get around me just with his long reach."
I respect that response. He's paid to tend goal, so he's a first-hand expert. What's more, I'm certain that he means every syllable he's speaking there.
But go back up and watch the goal again, including all the replay angles illustrated, and good luck selling that as aggressive. Or even peripherally competitive.
Look, I'm not about to pile on here. I've seen enough. That's all.
I no longer care if this is about the Penguins continuing to treat a 29-year-old as if he's still somehow a prospect with upside. Nor do I care if this is Kyle Dubas trying to salvage a five-year, $26.9 million contract that's stuck to the team's payroll ledger through 2028. Nor do I care how Dubas might go about moving him to another team, nor how much Fenway Sports Group money might need to be gulped in the process.
I do care that this team for-real could've won this game, with even a couple of above-average saves at various points. And that this team had won six of seven before this. And that the bulk of this player group's giving all it can. And that, looking further ahead, part of the challenge in building with youth will include not fearing that every flipping mistake will wind up a minus.
I also care that Jarry's save percentage is now a sorry .881, seventh-worst among the 50 NHL goaltenders to have appeared in 10-plus games this season.
And that, stunningly, he's now given up a goal within the first five shots he's faced in nine of the 11 games he's started, including this one. Four times, he's been beaten by the first shot.
Maybe Mike Sullivan's caring, as well, judging by his terse reply when asked if Jarry had just taken a step back: "Yeah, I thought so. I didn't think he was as good tonight."
That's not how Sullivan generally assesses his goaltending in public.
Enough already. Joel Blomqvist's 22, same age as Matt Murray when the latter arrived as a rookie, only to lift the Stanley Cup that ensuing summer, and he's shown plenty enough that he never should've been sent back to Wilkes-Barre, least of all for a long-established lost cause.
THE ASYLUM
DK: Stop trying to make Jarry happen ... because he sure isn't
I mean, really, how much of Tristan Jarry does everyone inside the Penguins' orbit need to see to be completely convinced that he's precisely what he is, what he's always been?
It's been 11 years since he was drafted, nine years since his NHL debut here, and he's yet to impress upon anyone here so much as a single impactful memory, aside from scoring a goal himself a year ago and, of course, for setting up a playoff overtime winner ... for the opponent:
DKPS
Sorry. Too easy.
But then, maybe it's needed. Because here we are, in yet another season where far too much about this franchise as a whole is being defined by Jarry's goaltending, not least of which was the 6-2 loss to the Avalanche on this Tuesday night at PPG Paints Arena, where the crowd of 15,632 could collectively groan after five of Colorado's first 23 shots.
Some real stinkers in there, too:
Nathan MacKinnon's a glorious talent, and he'd wind up with five points, but that wrister glides under Jarry's left armpit, an unsightly scene even if it weren't from such distance.
Mikko Rantanen doesn't rank much below MacKinnon, and he'd wind up with a hat trick and five points of his own, but ... uh, yeah.
That one up there was the coup de gross, at least for me. I can take whiffing on a wrister. I can take the odd bad-angle bummer. What I can't take is a lack of fight.
Oh, I dig into all the guilty parties on this backbreaking Valeri Nichushkin power move just below, but that doesn't mean the goaltender gets off. Not when Jarry's heels stay planted way back beneath his bleeping crossbar. Not when Nichushkin's permitted to cut across the crease as if that's his territorial right. And certainly not when, as one NHL evaluator would share with me up in the press box, Jarry should've "chopped him down like a tree coming through there."
But that's what he is, what he's always been.
I asked Jarry afterward to describe that goal:
"He's a big guy, he's got a long reach," he'd begin, referring to Nichushkin's 6-4, 210-pound stature. "And I think I was just being a little too aggressive, trying to poke the puck as he was pulling it from backhand to forehand, and he was able to get around me just with his long reach."
I respect that response. He's paid to tend goal, so he's a first-hand expert. What's more, I'm certain that he means every syllable he's speaking there.
But go back up and watch the goal again, including all the replay angles illustrated, and good luck selling that as aggressive. Or even peripherally competitive.
Look, I'm not about to pile on here. I've seen enough. That's all.
I no longer care if this is about the Penguins continuing to treat a 29-year-old as if he's still somehow a prospect with upside. Nor do I care if this is Kyle Dubas trying to salvage a five-year, $26.9 million contract that's stuck to the team's payroll ledger through 2028. Nor do I care how Dubas might go about moving him to another team, nor how much Fenway Sports Group money might need to be gulped in the process.
I do care that this team for-real could've won this game, with even a couple of above-average saves at various points. And that this team had won six of seven before this. And that the bulk of this player group's giving all it can. And that, looking further ahead, part of the challenge in building with youth will include not fearing that every flipping mistake will wind up a minus.
I also care that Jarry's save percentage is now a sorry .881, seventh-worst among the 50 NHL goaltenders to have appeared in 10-plus games this season.
And that, stunningly, he's now given up a goal within the first five shots he's faced in nine of the 11 games he's started, including this one. Four times, he's been beaten by the first shot.
Maybe Mike Sullivan's caring, as well, judging by his terse reply when asked if Jarry had just taken a step back: "Yeah, I thought so. I didn't think he was as good tonight."
That's not how Sullivan generally assesses his goaltending in public.
Enough already. Joel Blomqvist's 22, same age as Matt Murray when the latter arrived as a rookie, only to lift the Stanley Cup that ensuing summer, and he's shown plenty enough that he never should've been sent back to Wilkes-Barre, least of all for a long-established lost cause.
Figure it out. This ain't it.
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