| 30 April 2010
What makes the measure of a man? Of a hockey player? Do you judge him by his goals? Jersey sales? The car he drives? The size of his cranium? The criteria by which hockey fans have taken sides in the Crosby-or-Ovechkin debate are as subjective as they are varied. But now, finally, we have a definitive standard. A measure with which none can argue.
Jaroslav Halak.
For Ovechkin, Halak was as impenetrable as a chastity belt. Slap shots, wrist shots, deflections--Halak had an answer for everything. There will be plenty of other players on the ice for both Pittsburgh and Montreal, but the only matchup that matters is Sid and Jaro. Jaro and Sid.
The result of the series is of merely secondary interest to the world finding out, for sure and forever, who is better between Ovechkin and Crosby. "Purists" might point to a gold medal, or a ring, or two Hart trophies. But the purists are toolbags. Nature could not have devised a more perfect test than Jaroslav Halak.
Who is this man, this accidental hero? Does he even know what he is doing, the purpose he serves? Or is it all a game--a serious, high-stakes game, but a game nonetheless--to him? Does he know how much we want him, NEED him, to fulfill his destiny? What is on his iPod as he straps on the skates in the locker room? I think I know.
Sidney, can you handle this? I don't think you can handle this.
