NEWARK, N.J. -- Kris Letang was right. He was doing his job.
Mike Sullivan also was right. The two guys behind Letang weren't doing theirs.
And yet, the end result was so very, very wrong. Because the Penguins -- all of them, including Letang and even Sullivan in his own way -- allowed the Devils to beat them, 4-2, on a tiebreaking, third-period breakaway goal by the one player everyone knew had the best chance to do exactly that kind of damage: Taylor Hall.
You know, the super-fast, super-skilled kid who almost singlehandedly carried his team to a surprising playoff berth.
The one who was awarded the Hart Trophy -- getting my vote, too -- as the NHL's most valuable player for that reason alone.
The one who can casually do stuff like this:
That was at 8:07 of the third, and it put the Devils up for good, 3-2. And so much of what occurs is so bad it's hard to know where to start.
So let's try to take it in order ...
It's an offensive-zone faceoff, so Sullivan sends out the trio he's been deploying the past couple games in such situations: Crosby between Jake Guentzel and Phil Kessel. Nothing wrong with that. It's solid strategy, especially on the road, where the home team's coach can counter with the last change.
Sullivan's counterpart, John Hynes, did counter in his own way, sending out his own top line of Hall alongside Travis Zajac and Kyle Palmieri. His thought process was as simple as he'd later word it: "We needed a win."
They did. The Devils were fresh off a 1-6 trip and a Sunday slaughter in Winnipeg. The mood here all day had been one of desperation.
Crosby cleaned Hall on that draw, too:
But Guentzel, who one period earlier had stood idly when Damon Severson scored the Devils' second goal, this time was outmaneuvered by Severson at the hash to swat the puck away and negate Crosby's momentary victory.
Once that happened and possession was clearly lost, Kessel looked over his shoulder and saw Letang pinching to pressure Palmieri on the far boards. Kessel backpedaled to cover Letang, per the Sullivan system. That was smart.
Nothing that followed was smart.
Letang and Dumoulin had switched sides for the faceoff, which is standard in the offensive zone because it theoretically allows for a quicker one-timer from the point. That's why Letang, usually the one on the right side, was pinching Palmieri on the side opposite where he'd typically be.
But once Palmieri chipped the puck up past Letang, Dumoulin, maybe following instinct, came all the way across to the left side to chase Zajac.
Incredibly, so did Kessel.
I'm going to repeat this for emphasis. The Devils had a two-on-two coming through the neutral zone, and both of the Penguins went away from the MVP.
“He called for it,” Zajac would recall of his soft saucer to spring Hall. “I kind of saw him, but he called for it. I just had to kind of whack it over to him, and he made a great play.”
Yep. Forehand, backhand, forehand and a slow slide through Casey DeSmith's five-hole. Though he did nick the puck just enough to be really mad.
"I had it," DeSmith told me. "That's what's frustrating."
Nope, not really. At least not from this perspective. It's all about Hall being left that insanely alone.
Neither Kessel nor Dumoulin was available to reporters afterward, but Letang and Sullivan both addressed the scenario in detail. And, as I noted at the outset here, both raised fair points in explaining what happened.
"We had two guys back," Letang told me with a bit of an edge. "It's just a miscommunication. Two guys went to the same one. ... It should never happen. My job is to pressure the winger. If Dumo slides, the winger slides, we're fine."
Pretty blunt, even for him.
Watch our exchange, and you'll see what I mean by the edge:
Sullivan unconditionally backed Letang.
"We've got to communicate," he'd say. "We've got numbers back. We just duplicate the coverage there."
No doubt.
But here's my question, at the risk of ruffling a few feathers: When a system is regularly allowing breakaways -- and the Penguins have to be among the worst in this regard in the NHL -- and this team was eliminated from the most recent Stanley Cup playoffs by an opponent exploiting that weakness in a way no one else had ... isn't it worth weighing an adjustment?
And no, I'm not asking this just because Hall's move on DeSmith was terrifyingly reminiscent of Evgeny Kuznetsov's breakaway unraveling of Matt Murray.
Why not try something different, depending on the opponent or the line matchup or the game situation?
After the morning skate, I asked Sullivan if he considers Hall one of those players who forces a coaching staff to make special adjustments: “Well, for sure. He’s an elite player. He had a terrific season last year. He has explosive speed. He has the ability to score. Anytime you play those types, you have to be aware of when he’s on the ice.”
Honestly, I had no clue how prescient that subject would become, but it did. And while I'm sure Sullivan was sincere in his answer, the fact remains that no adjustment was made for the one line, the one star who could do this.
What if, for example, the coaching staff had instructed all concerned to keep from pinching while Hall's line was on the ice?
Wouldn't a lack of pinching, a momentary lack of aggressiveness, be easier to explain than how Kessel, a finesse forward, could botch a late defensive assignment?
I respect Sullivan immensely as a coach. I respect that his way has won two championships. But I also respect that the rest of the league has clearly caught up to the Penguins, both schematically and physically, when it comes to playing a fast game. And as a result, that one-system-fits-all approach almost certainly requires some tinkering, including game to game, shift to shift.
Right now, the system doesn't change. Ever. Even in encountering an MVP.
