Lou Lamoriello: A Man All His Own

As anyone who struggled to get the new health care legislation passed over the weekend can attest, it's hard to make systemic changes. The momentum of history carries us along, forcing the boldest and most tenacious of us to aggressively fight the tide in the name of progress.

It may not be nearly on par with lowering the unemployment rate or giving our education system a breath of fresh air, but in the world of this lovely escape we call hockey, few in recent history have had as big of an impact in these terms as Lou Lamoriello. It's entirely appropriate that he's being inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame on Monday night as a "Builder," because he built a dynasty out of a doormat as well as a hockey nation out of a nation with just a curious interest in the sport.

But when I think of what makes Lou Lamoriello great, I don't think about what he's done. I think about the character and personality that drove all that success.

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Lamoriello's resume doesn't need to be repeated here, laudatory accounts of his work in college hockey, with the New Jersey Devils and as a key figure in USA Hockey are easy to find.

But more interestingly, in a world in which it's hard to find people who are true individuals, there is only one Lou Lamoriello. He's a man of his word, something you have to respect whether the word is good or bad. He's the oldest-school possible, a guy who believes in adherence to the collective one and his system over any of the individuals who contribute to it.

He's a fair man. But he cares about team success. A lot. And you come with him or you can get left behind, but there's no in between. Lamoriello, unknown in the professional hockey world upon his hire, came to New Jersey with a plan. That's the same plan he uses today, and the conviction behind that plan is more concrete than the walls that make up The Rock.

His way is not for everybody; there are some who for not even the Stanley Cup could put up with his personality and expectations. But those who respond positively to it do so in spades, will give up the individual excesses to contribute to the team. Since 1987 when Lamoriello took over the "Mickey Mouse operation," as Wayne Gretzky referred to the Devils in 1984, not only has the Devils logo been nearly synonymous with on-ice greatness but it has represented a selfless style of hockey.

Say what you will about his sometimes cutthroat maneuverings -- the coaching fires, the chord-cuttings with prominent players, his shrewd conduct in contract negotiations -- but there's a reason that Jacques Lemaire came back to coach this year, why Larry Robinson has remained on staff in different roles after his departures as head coach. There's a reason that longtime players John MacLean and Bruce Driver came back after retirement to work with the franchise and so many others have returned for second stints as players. There's a reason why Scott Stevens and Martin Brodeur routinely took less money than they could get as free agents to stay in New Jersey.

He demands a lot from the people around him, but puts in just as much himself. He's a fair man. But he cares about team success. A lot. And you can come with him or you can get left behind, but there's no in between.

There's a story he and Ken Daneyko like to tell, in which (and I'm paraphrasing here) Daneyko approached Lamoriello early in the rugged defenseman's career about a more offensive role with the team. Lamoriello explained to Daneyko that the Devils were an orchestra, and that Daneyko was one of its drummers. And he gave Daneyko an ultimatum: if you'd like to be a violinist, that's fine, but we don't need a violinist, so I'll have to find another team that does. Daneyko decided that he wanted to be a drummer in New Jersey, and wound up playing in over 1,400 total games as a Devil, winning three Cups. When he went through a turbulent bout with alcoholism later in his playing career, Lamoriello stuck by his close friend Daneyko, not giving up on the player now known as Mr. Devil, one of the only two players to have his number retired by the team.

Mr. Devil ... that's a nickname Lamoriello probably likes, because it represents celebrating an individual within the context of his contributions to the team. My guess is, if he could be inducted under the general guise of the franchise he's built, Lamoriello would prefer that. In this case, though, he'll just have to deal with being honored as an individual. One who's done it well, and entirely his way.