There's only one Kris Letang.
And on a dagger of a day like this, with the Penguins and the franchise's greatest defenseman announcing that he's had a second stroke, that can come with so, so, so many swirling meanings, right?
There's only one Letang, the husband to Catherine, the father to Alex and Victoria, the family member and friend to countless others.
There's only one Letang, the extraordinary athlete who'd need no endorsement from anyone in this small corner of the world.
There's only one Letang, the 17-year blood-brother of Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin as one-third of the most tenured trio of teammates in the history of North American professional sports.
There's only one Letang, summing all of those traits, who could ever move a columnist covering a Stanley Cup Final six years ago in San Jose, Calif., to come up with this for a championship-clinching lede:
DKPS
Yeah, that was as real as it was surreal. All of it.
Among the most brilliant single-game performances by a defenseman in NHL history, complete with an iconic shift punctuated by an iconic goal:
Then further punctuated afterward by this moment on the ice I was blessed to be able to capture:
I don't know what's next. None of us can. Not even the blessed doctors and athletic trainers who responded aggressively and appropriately. Maybe not even the medical professionals who'll analyze the series of tests that'll occur over the coming few days.
But there are a handful of certainties in which all involved can take some solace:
• This team, this GM and this head coach will put the person first.
I'll single out the latter because he's the individual most responsible for anything Letang would do hockey-related and, amusingly, already, Sullivan acknowledged, "The biggest challenge for me today was to find a way to keep him off the ice. He wanted to skate today.”
This less than 16 hours after the Penguins' 3-2 overtime loss to the Hurricanes, one which was followed by Sullivan and Letang sharing the news in the locker room with the team.
"Stroke is a scary word," Sullivan recalled today of that scene. "When something like this arises, it puts things into perspective for all of us. We love the game. We compete hard. We live and die with winning and losing every night. But at the end of the day, we care about people, and he’s a guy that means a lot to our team."
Sullivan's something special. I know this. I've experienced it. Letang's in the best hands at that level.
Same goes for Ron Hextall, every bit as emotional and invested in his current role as he was as a fiery Conn Smythe-winning goaltender. It's not as outward anymore, of course, but that doesn't just fade. I see it still.
"First and foremost, this is about the person. I told Tanger that last night," Hextall would say. "The hockey player and Pittsburgh Penguin, that’s secondary. He is a warrior on the ice, but first and foremost, he is a son, father, husband, and friend. His health is our No. 1 priority."
• He's in good hands medically.
Nothing in medicine has a 100% shooting percentage, but the back story on Letang's Monday is a testament to every responsible individual taking every right step in reacting to Letang's history rather than hesitating based on a current circumstance.
Notable was Dr. Dharmesh Vyas, the team's physician, immediately sending Letang to the hospital based on little more than hearing that Letang had a migraine and that he just wasn't "feeling right," per the team's press release. Just as notable was that Chris Stewart, the head athletic trainer, going straight to Vyas after getting the phone call from Letang, rather than responding as if this were just another sick player. And above them are Sullivan, Hextall and everyone else who creates the culture that health is what matters.
Oh, and it's right to mention Letang, too. If he gets stubborn or has a fearing of finding out, nothing else happens. But as he'd say on this day, "I'm fortunate to know my body well enough to know when something isn't right," and he got it started.
Again, nothing's ever set in stone in this territory. That's only been true since the dawn of time. But this was a spectacularly successful process within itself.
• Being open is a plus.
With Letang's permission, the entire team's operation was as transparent as I've seen any team regarding news that's this serious. And that should help everyone, including Letang, who won't carry the additional burden of holding down a secret through however long he's out.
Which isn't to suggest Letang wouldn't face a challenge in sharing a private matter.
"While it's difficult to navigate this issue publicly," as he put it in his statement, "I'm hopeful it can raise awareness. It's important for me that my teammates, family and the fans know that I'm OK. I am optimistic that I will be back on the ice soon."
Everyone's helped by that.
• The hockey will matter all the same.
There's nothing cold-hearted in that. The Penguins are a hockey team, they're Letang's only NHL team, and whether they win or lose matters. There's no point to tiptoeing around that, which is one of many benefits to being open with the news.
And though it feels cringeworthy as a reporter to admit it's fine being shut out of anything, I'll additionally applaud the team's stance that there'd be no further updates until something significant emerges from the tests. This way, Sullivan, the players and everyone else can focus on their jobs rather than fielding questions from annoying people like me every day about something over which they'd have no control and, in all likelihood, no knowledge.
Just move on and beat the Golden Knights tomorrow.
"We got a good team, a deep team," Hextall would say to the subject of missing Letang on the roster. "We like our defense. We've got a couple guys in the minors. So we feel good about where we're at as a team, and I think the guys will be playing a little bit for Tanger right now, too. But hockey is certainly secondary right now."
Sullivan essentially echoed the rallying point, saying, "Knowing this group the way I know them, they'll rally around this. They'll rally around Kris, first and foremost, and help him in every way they can. They'll rally around him on the ice as well."
The Penguins are 11-8-4. There's no time to pout. And there's no need to apologize for putting winning first when they lace 'em up.
• People will overreact ... and play medical expert ... and pontificate on someone else's life.
And probably worse. Heck, this column in and of itself might already be guilty of at least a little of some of that.
To repeat, we don't know what we don't know.
So when Hextall says this stroke isn't as severe as the first was eight years ago, when he further says, "Thus far, everything is looking as positive as it could be" ... if that were definitive, there'd be no need for further tests. But there is.
When Letang says he'll be back, weigh that this is coming from someone who'd rush into a burning building to take his next shift.
All I'll add is that, in my decade and a half around him, this good man and his good family are all that matter within this scenario. And I'm hoping for the smartest, safest, most satisfying outcome for all concerned. Whatever that might be.
Because there's only one of him.
