"No, no ... don't say ... don't write. I don't like to hear too much good."
This was Evgeni Malkin late Wednesday night. We'd just wrapped up an extended talk, our first in far too long, and this was what I'd heard upon beginning to walk away.
He was worried I'd take too far any praise for the virtuoso performance everyone had just witnessed in the Penguins' prodigious 8-6 comeback vs. the Canucks at PPG Paints Arena. You know, two goals, three assists, 10 attempted shots, 11-7 in the circles, all that.
He shouldn't have worried, though. Because I can't take it too far.
I'll get to the splashy stuff in a spell, but the last sequence I'd cited to him before breaking off was this:
On our city's traditional Thanksgiving Eve game, one that thrilled the throbbing home-for-the-holidays 18,465 on hand, this was ... well, this was one of those that had been seen from the seats. Because the speed, the skill and the fluidity with which Malkin achieves everything here is vintage. And I'm applying the adjective in its purest form.
In order:
• He tracks back on Vancouver's Tyler Graovac at center red, slows him and forces him to dump behind Kris Letang. (And on this particular night, Letang needed all the help he'd find.)
• Upon seeing Matt Murray was about to whisk the puck further along the end boards, Malkin gets his jets going the other way. No stop. No spray. One motion.
• When the Canucks' Tim Schaller throws his body against the glass to try to keep the puck in the zone, the carom drops in front of a moving Malkin and he whacks it out of the air -- this is part of what's tough to pick up on video -- then seamlessly recaptures it on his blade in full stride. This is ... words fail me here.
• He's then right back at center red, absolutely flying, and he flicks the puck on his backhand over the outreached stick of Vancouver's backpedaling defenseman, Troy Stecher, and I've just to got to offer a closer look at this ...
... before Stecher's left with virtually no choice but to commit interference.
Which put the Penguins on the power play, and which led to Malkin setting up a Bryan Rust slam dunk for a 2-0 lead.
This, I mentioned to Malkin, reminded of the 2012 Geno. The 50-goal, Hart Trophy, 'I am score' Geno.
"No," came the casual, soft reply. "Different."
Right. Because this could be something more.
____________________
Bear in mind, that sequence up there began with the backcheck. With the awareness and appreciation that the Mike Sullivan system only works if everyone's invested in possessing the puck. And all through the evening, in fact, he'd displayed that same diligence over all 200 feet, even hanging as the high forward when a teammate pinched.
It wasn't just this game, either. It's become the new norm. The same Mr. Giveaway who was minus-25 last season is currently a plus-5. Or, being that plus-minus is a terribly dated metric, he ranked 13th on the Penguins last season in five-on-five Corsi For percentage -- an excellent measure of overall possession and effectiveness -- at 50.23, and he's currently sixth at 55.24. (Higher than Dominik Simon!)
He's got 11 official giveaways, but four other forwards, including Simon, have more. And his 18 takeaways are not only tops on the team but also tied for 15th in the NHL.
So, I had to ask: What's changed?
"I only changed my skates," Malkin replied. "My new version of my skates. My feet never hurt."
That's it, huh?
"Yeah. Exactly what I need. Last year, I changed probably 20 pairs. Now, it's only one. Crazy."
At which point a broad grin badly betrayed him. The skates really were an issue, and they really have been better since he's settled into his customized Bauer Supreme 2s model a couple months ago. But the real change, as he'd clarify, has come from what fills those skates.
As he'd then lay out for me in detail, right after the Penguins were swept from the Stanley Cup playoffs by the Islanders, he went heavy on the introspection, trying to solve whatever went wrong in his 2018-19 that saw career-worst offensive figures, not least of which was 72 points over 68 games, and 21 goals, only a dozen of which came at even-strength.
"Of course I'm not happy with what I did last year," Malkin told me. "And I thought about it: How many years can I play pro hockey? I knew I'm a great player. I've played hockey my whole life."
He was still a star, but he wasn't that star. Not anymore. And at the same time, even though he'd turn 33 in July, he didn't feel old.
Except in the legs.
The late, legendary Herb Brooks used to preach in Pittsburgh, same as he did with the 1980 Miracle team, "The legs feed the wolf." Magical as that man's mind was, particularly when it came to hockey, he never strayed from the founding principle that the sport's rooted in speed. And without the legs, that wolf starves.
A lot of us, myself included, fussed over Malkin's many messes last season from the mental standpoint. When he'd hand the puck to the opponent, when he'd try some silly spinning move that wasn't necessary, when he'd defer rather than take charge, it seemed like a lack of focus. Or confidence. Or even will.
Didn't seem that way to him. He just wanted his legs back.
So he set sail almost immediately on a summer-long journey to rediscover them. He first flew to Slovakia to represent Russia in the IIHF World Championship, then took two weeks off the ice to plan. He reached out to Besa Tsintsadze, a long-trusted Georgian power-skating coach, and the two discussed shedding some weight, as is common practice for players as they age -- Pascal Dupuis used to drop a single pound with each additional year -- to maintain their speed. But they went further, aiming to accent agility and drive in his legs.
From there, Malkin invited Alex Trinca, the Penguins' assistant conditioning coach, to fly to Moscow to oversee such training firsthand. Before long, five pounds were lost, and a firmer overall build resulted. This was doubly true of the legs, the primary target.
"I'm 210 now," Malkin told me of his weight, "and I was maybe 215 last year. For me, that's big difference. I feel it."
In August, Malkin met with Tsintsadze on Fisher Island, off the coast of Miami, where he and Alex Galchenyuk were pushed against each other.
"We skated so hard," Malkin recalled.
Additionally, Sullivan flew down to meet with Malkin while he was still in Florida. And by all accounts, a meeting that might have been intended as motivational never needed to be anything of the kind. Sullivan shared his expectations -- simplify the game, keep the puck, and the points will come simply through greater possession -- and Malkin, in turn, promised that and a whole lot more. He pledged to play within the team structure, but he also pledged to produce the way he once did.
"When we meet in Miami," Malkin elaborated, "I wanted Coach to believe in me."
And now?
"I'm just feeling, like ... Coach gives me time, I play, like, all three zones, faceoffs, power plays ... it's like, confidence is huge right now."
OK, then, I tried again: What's changed? Meaning about his actual game?
"I changed a little bit, but not much. It's huge just to skate every second day all summer. I've skated so much this year. I feel good. I feel strong."
____________________
In the legs, he meant. And it was so easy to see on this night.
Because it's the legs that set the foundation for winning faceoffs the way Malkin cleaned up Vancouver's Adam Gaudette for the icebreaking one-timer by Jake Guentzel:
Because it's the legs that carve out the space and angle needed to dissect three penalty-killing Canucks for that Rust slam dunk:
Because it's the legs -- and the respect for those legs -- that gain the Vancouver blue line, back off everyone in white -- then fuel the flames behind this rocket to pull the Penguins within 6-5:
Because it's the legs that allow him, while logging his 28th shift, to find one bonus burst for an empty-netter with 2.2 ticks left:
But it's the heart, too, and that's something that shouldn't ever be questioned in these parts after all this extraordinary individual has contributed over a decade and a half and, particularly, toward three Cups.
Think of it this way: He's got zero chance at hanging with the NHL's scoring leaders. He's got six goals and 13 assists over 14 games, which is outstanding and, to be precise, a 1.36 point-per-game average that's eighth-best in the league. But he missed that month to injury, and there's no making that up. Still, amid what could have been an exasperating, why-me circumstance, he bounced back playing exactly the way he'd hoped to play.
I've made it this deep into the column without mentioning that Sidney Crosby's out. There's a reason for that: In the absence of the team's captain and the sport's most complete player, the Penguins are now 5-1-3. And in those nine games, Malkin's piled up four goals and 11 assists, he's resuscitated what had been a wayward power play, and he's set every tone, every example.
This was Galchenyuk presenting him with the honorary Pittsburgh Bureau of Fire hat after this game:
Umm... Something about shoes?
We don't know what's happening, but we do know that Evgeni Malkin got the firefighter helmet tonight! pic.twitter.com/B615lKtsMm
— Pittsburgh Penguins (@penguins) November 28, 2019
They're glowing about Malkin right now, all of them.
"What Geno's doing for us right now," as Guentzel worded it, "is just unbelievable."
Except that it isn't. He's always been wired this way, team-first. We've seen that in playoffs past, and we've seen it pretty much every other time Crosby's gone down. He feels that extra burden, and he embraces it.
Of this victory, he'd say, "We fight. It's a crazy game. We lead, 2-0, and then we fall behind. We understand the game is not over. We understand every goal is important. ... Great team."
Of his own role: "I know we have a couple bad injuries, and I understand it's my time. I try to do my best. Again, confidence is important. If the coach puts me out for a faceoff in the D-zone, I understand I need to win it. I feel it. It's, like, fun game right now for me."
No factor, I'd spent the full offseason repeating, would loom larger for the 2019-20 Penguins than whether Malkin would be able to reinvent himself. And I was wrong. Or at least overly dramatic. Because it's clear now a reinvention wasn't needed anywhere near as much as a reignition.
MATT SUNDAY GALLERY