Devils' No. 1 star is behind the bench

[Rock]

Devils' No. 1 star is behind the bench

http://www.northjersey.com/page.php?qstr=e...2Y3dnFlZUVFeXk2

Saturday, April 22, 2006

By ADRIAN WOJNAROWSKI

When Tim Army was a young player at Providence College, he never did understand the method to this madness. Lou Lamoriello gathered those Friars in the locker room, marching stool to stool, player to player, one by one, calling them for transgressions on the ice, in the classroom and on campus.

"At the start of those meetings, you just cringe," Army said by phone from Providence the other day.

One would get ripped for selfishness with the puck, another for cutting class, another for behaving badly on campus. Whatever the issues, most coaches would deal with these issues individually, but never Lamoriello. Three or four times a year, he turned a mass discipline hearing into an improbable team-building exercise.

Back then, the kids were too raw to see that this hadn't been a calculated three-or-four-time-a-year exercise to tear them down, but build them up.

"If he was unhappy, you heard about it in front of your teammates. It was an uncomfortable thing. He'd go around the room and challenge everybody. You would've wished it was one-on-one, and at the time, I didn't understand it. As a coach now, I do."

His reasoning was this: He wanted to create a family, and what families did was have these discussions at the kitchen table. What he was doing was creating dinner conversation. Everybody would leave so unhappy, but they couldn't go off in pockets and complain. We were all being held accountable together.

"All in all, it manifested a team attitude, a family attitude. Coach is from a generation where that's how you raised your kids. That's how I grew up in my house, where someone was told they were wrong and were expected to get it right. In the end, it made us very powerful as a team."

After nine years as an assistant in the NHL, Army is back coaching the Providence Friars, a title in his mind that will always belong to Lamoriello. He still calls Lamoriello "Coach" when they talk on the telephone. All those old Friars do. He's made his NHL legend as the best general manager in the sport, but Lamoriello has showed this season that he probably could've been the best coach in the NHL, too.

It's Devils-Rangers to start the Eastern Conference playoffs today at Continental Arena, and it will be such a different springtime adrenaline rush for Lamoriello now. He was always the Devils' MVP, and maybe he's never been so dangerous to the rest of the league now as president, GM and coach.

Most of all, what Lamoriello's done has been to remind everyone that he is the best pure hockey man on the planet, one of the best ever. His body of work is extraordinary, a legend growing with a frantic 11 straight victories by the Devils to close the regular season as Atlantic Division champions.

After 23 years away from the bench, after a historic college career, Lamoriello moved back to the bench in a crisis and delivered the deftest of touches. His style never goes out of style: Unapologetically tough, relentlessly consistent and full of vision.

From high school to college to the pros, one thing never changes: Players are desperate for structure. They want belief, want consistency and want someone to lay out a path to success.

"I always wanted Coach Lamoriello's approval," Army said. "You always wanted to make him proud of you. You never wanted to let him down."

Today's Devils didn't grow up in East Providence the way that Army did. They don't remember Lamoriello flipping them sticks of chewing gum in the stands the way Lamoriello did when Army was a 9-year-old and the coach was recruiting his older brother at high school games.

No, these Devils didn't grow up dreaming of playing for Lamoriello, sculpting him as a bigger-than-life figure in their minds. Still, there's an unmistakable aura that allows Lamoriello to run a franchise, and now coach this team, in his own unbendable mold.

In a lot of ways, Lamoriello moving downstairs to replace Larry Robinson was like the Wizard of Oz coming out from behind that curtain, validating his aura all over again. Across the line in sports, there's so little aura left in authority. Lamoriello still has it. Martin Brodeur and Scott Gomez felt it as millionaire Stanley Cup champions, the way Army and Brian Burke and Ron Wilson felt it as college kids.

Now, Lamoriello has a chance to make history. He has a chance to make a run all the way to the Cup Finals, all the way to his fourth Stanley Cup championship as Devils emperor. Only this time, he's come back downstairs, out of another era, another uniform and found that greatness stands the test of time. He never did make his players comfortable at Providence. He made them a team, made them tough. Always, Lou Lamoriello made champions.

[ice dog]

the wizard!!!

[IceThief]

Devils' No. 1 star is behind the bench

http://www.northjersey.com/page.php?qstr=e...2Y3dnFlZUVFeXk2

Saturday, April 22, 2006

By ADRIAN WOJNAROWSKI

When Tim Army was a young player at Providence College, he never did understand the method to this madness. Lou Lamoriello gathered those Friars in the locker room, marching stool to stool, player to player, one by one, calling them for transgressions on the ice, in the classroom and on campus.

"At the start of those meetings, you just cringe," Army said by phone from Providence the other day.

One would get ripped for selfishness with the puck, another for cutting class, another for behaving badly on campus. Whatever the issues, most coaches would deal with these issues individually, but never Lamoriello. Three or four times a year, he turned a mass discipline hearing into an improbable team-building exercise.

Back then, the kids were too raw to see that this hadn't been a calculated three-or-four-time-a-year exercise to tear them down, but build them up.

"If he was unhappy, you heard about it in front of your teammates. It was an uncomfortable thing. He'd go around the room and challenge everybody. You would've wished it was one-on-one, and at the time, I didn't understand it. As a coach now, I do."

His reasoning was this: He wanted to create a family, and what families did was have these discussions at the kitchen table. What he was doing was creating dinner conversation. Everybody would leave so unhappy, but they couldn't go off in pockets and complain. We were all being held accountable together.

"All in all, it manifested a team attitude, a family attitude. Coach is from a generation where that's how you raised your kids. That's how I grew up in my house, where someone was told they were wrong and were expected to get it right. In the end, it made us very powerful as a team."

After nine years as an assistant in the NHL, Army is back coaching the Providence Friars, a title in his mind that will always belong to Lamoriello. He still calls Lamoriello "Coach" when they talk on the telephone. All those old Friars do. He's made his NHL legend as the best general manager in the sport, but Lamoriello has showed this season that he probably could've been the best coach in the NHL, too.

It's Devils-Rangers to start the Eastern Conference playoffs today at Continental Arena, and it will be such a different springtime adrenaline rush for Lamoriello now. He was always the Devils' MVP, and maybe he's never been so dangerous to the rest of the league now as president, GM and coach.

Most of all, what Lamoriello's done has been to remind everyone that he is the best pure hockey man on the planet, one of the best ever. His body of work is extraordinary, a legend growing with a frantic 11 straight victories by the Devils to close the regular season as Atlantic Division champions.

After 23 years away from the bench, after a historic college career, Lamoriello moved back to the bench in a crisis and delivered the deftest of touches. His style never goes out of style: Unapologetically tough, relentlessly consistent and full of vision.

From high school to college to the pros, one thing never changes: Players are desperate for structure. They want belief, want consistency and want someone to lay out a path to success.

"I always wanted Coach Lamoriello's approval," Army said. "You always wanted to make him proud of you. You never wanted to let him down."

Today's Devils didn't grow up in East Providence the way that Army did. They don't remember Lamoriello flipping them sticks of chewing gum in the stands the way Lamoriello did when Army was a 9-year-old and the coach was recruiting his older brother at high school games.

No, these Devils didn't grow up dreaming of playing for Lamoriello, sculpting him as a bigger-than-life figure in their minds. Still, there's an unmistakable aura that allows Lamoriello to run a franchise, and now coach this team, in his own unbendable mold.

In a lot of ways, Lamoriello moving downstairs to replace Larry Robinson was like the Wizard of Oz coming out from behind that curtain, validating his aura all over again. Across the line in sports, there's so little aura left in authority. Lamoriello still has it. Martin Brodeur and Scott Gomez felt it as millionaire Stanley Cup champions, the way Army and Brian Burke and Ron Wilson felt it as college kids.

Now, Lamoriello has a chance to make history. He has a chance to make a run all the way to the Cup Finals, all the way to his fourth Stanley Cup championship as Devils emperor. Only this time, he's come back downstairs, out of another era, another uniform and found that greatness stands the test of time. He never did make his players comfortable at Providence. He made them a team, made them tough. Always, Lou Lamoriello made champions.

Bravo!!! Bravo!!! Bravo, indeed!!!

That is as nice a piece of writing as I've had the pleasure of reading in a LONG time.

Uncle Louie is definitely Gandalf in a suit and tie.

A wizard amongst mere mortals.

Gotta love da man.

IceThief