DALLAS -- For the better part of four decades now, the foundation of the NHL's Pittsburgh franchise, at least from this perspective, has been threefold:
1. Host generational greats on the roster.
2. Others on the roster can benefit.
3. Some can even learn.
Just as a raw Kevin Stevens immensely expanded his repertoire around Mario Lemieux, as an enigmatic Alexei Kovalev bloomed in the shadow of Jaromir Jagr, as an estranged Phil Kessel finally found a home alongside best bud Evgeni Malkin, and now Jake Guentzel is making history next to Sidney Crosby, there are endless other examples. They'll experience the setting, embrace the culture and, on occasion, they might even excel by trying something they'd seen in practice or a game.
In the third period of the Penguins' 3-2 victory over the Stars on this Saturday night at American Airlines Center, Jared McCann, freshly escaped from his playoff-free environs in Florida, did this:
Admit it, you thought what I did the moment it happened: That's the Geno move. Or the Sid move.
That isn't wholly fair, of course. Full credit to the young man for everything about this execution, which should be the buzz of the NHL for the weekend and maybe for the whole winter. I'll get into why in a bit.
But I couldn't get past that initial thought. The one where I recalled players from Warren Young to Robert Lang to James Neal uncovering that something special within themselves, in part because they were in the casual company of greatness on a daily basis.
So sure, I asked McCann:
"Yeah, I think I've seen Sid and Geno do it," he came right back. "Obviously, it's not as pretty when I do it."
With humility, no less. Even though none should apply.
Let's break it down from the beginning, first with the critical caveat that the score was 2-2, it was the third period, and the Stars were on the power play, which is why it begins with a boring hammer off the glass by Erik Gudbranson from beneath the Pittsburgh goal line:
It gets interesting in a hurry, though. That's because Mike Sullivan and Jacques Martin had instructed their penalty-killers to stay aggressive on Dallas' dynamic power play, which is as dangerous as any in the NHL at dissecting a PK box.
"We wanted pressure," Sullivan would say afterward. "We wanted it everywhere."
So they got it at center red, of all places. That's where John Klingberg tried and failed to corral Gudbranson's whack. Klingberg is one of the league's most graceful skating defensemen, but that ability's also made him prone to risk in his career. He'll take gambles that others won't because he can cover for it.
He covered here, too, in a hurry. Trouble was, Teddy Blueger, whose niftiness with the puck in tight quarters endeared him to the Penguins' development people for years, niftily chipped the puck away from Klingberg at the right boards and sprung himself loose up the middle with significant speed.
"I saw Teddy take some ice there, and I knew he wasn’t going to slow down," McCann recalled for me. "I tried to get up there as quickly as I could."
"I really just wanted to go where there was space and push hard," Blueger told me. "I thought maybe there'd be a chance."
There was. It was kind of a two-on-one with Blueger and McCann ganging up on the backpedaling Klingberg.
“The puck was going there, and I was trying to get up," Klingberg said of his initial approach on Gudbranson's clear. "I knew there was going to be a two-on-one, but I tried to get the puck first and he chipped it over my blade and then it’s a two-on-one. I tried to make the best out of it.”
So did Tyler Seguin, a forward also back in pursuit. And it was here that Blueger decides to make what appears to be either an ill-advised or poorly executed pass ... or worse, both:
It actually was neither. Klingberg's skating allowed him to close in on Blueger like lightning. If he'd gotten off a shot on Anton Khudobin, it'd have been nothing. So, sensing that McCann would have a step on Seguin, he slipped the pass slightly back through the sticks of both Stars.
"It was the only place I could put it," Blueger said.
"Perfect pass," McCann said, and the way he'd established his blade as the target -- back and facing Blueger -- was hard evidence of that approval:
All that was left now was the hardest part, also seen above. Because, even though Seguin made no more than a nominal effort to prevent anything at all from happening next, McCann had to turn the pass behind him into a scoring chance, and he had barely a millisecond to pull it off.
More challenging still ...
"The ice wasn't great, so I knew I couldn't try some fancy toe-drag or anything," he told me. "So I really just wanted to work it ahead to myself and see what else I could do once it was in front of me."
By then, of course, he'd nearly run out of real estate. He was at the inner bottom edge of the right circle. Another stride and he'd be beyond the goal line. So, he did what any self-respecting 22-year-old would do ... on a video game:
And whipped a backhander -- no, no, lifted the backhander, with the sweetest late touch, if it's observed closely -- between Khudobin's blocker and body, and inside the far post.
Sullivan called it "a great goal," adding, “That’ll be on ESPN highlights.”
No, it actually won't unless it involves a palmed basketball, but his other point stands.
"Jared was great all night," Crosby said, "but that was a pretty unbelievable goal and a big goal in the game.”
That point stands tallest. It came at 4:20 of the third, the surprisingly spicy crowd quieted considerably, and the Penguins were only a few more of Matt Murray's brilliant saves removed from victory.
"It was huge for all of us, this game," McCann said, referencing the recent spate of late blown leads. "It was in our head, obviously, as we went out there. We just tried to take one home."
He's got that characteristic in common with those other guys, as well.
