Opinion | The inside story of how Phil Kessel became a Maple Leaf — and what went wrong

With some people, only one name is necessary. It denotes greatness, a certain level of fame or infamy, instant recognition. It requires little explanation or a lot.

In current hockey circles, the name is Phil.

It brings an instant smile to those who know him, a bigger smile if you know him well, and a flood of memories — some frustrating, most hilarious. It definitely gets a reaction.

Phil Kessel became the NHL’s ironman this past week, playing his 990th consecutive game. The remarkable feat was topped by more remarkable stories of his quirky nature, lack of desire to train, rather unusual eating habits and dislike of practising the sport he has excelled at. And, despite all of these traits, his pure likability among those he skated with.

We heard a lot about Phil, but not so much about how he became a Maple Leaf in 2009, when the streak started.

I was part of the new management group that summer in Toronto, with Brian Burke and Dave Nonis, and our early conversations revolved around adding a young star. Burkie and Dave had come over from Anaheim partway through the previous season, after winning the 2007 Stanley Cup with the Ducks. They were both of the strong belief that the No. 1 priority in a market such as Toronto was major star power. They felt the market demanded it, and fans deserved it.

There wasn’t a lot in the futures pipeline. Stay-at-home defenceman Luke Schenn (2008) and talented centre Nazem Kadri (2009) were recent draft picks, but not much more in terms of big talent. Burke had been in Vancouver when Pavel Bure rocketed into town in 1991 and transformed the Canucks into Cup contenders; drafted Chris Pronger while in Hartford; drafted the Sedin twins on his second tour with the Canucks; and watched Ryan Getzlaf and Corey Perry break though alongside superstar Teemu Selanne during that Cup run in Anaheim.

Star power was the fuel he felt the Leafs lacked. The challenge was to find that player.

Phil was a young scoring prodigy out of Madison, Wisc. I first saw him with the U.S. national program as a 16-year-old. He was called up to the under-18 team for a college exhibition game against Notre Dame, where I was the coach, and it was clear at first glance he was special. Flying through the neutral zone at electrifying speed, he displayed a cannon of a wrist shot and was the best player on the ice.

Some memories stay with you longer than others. Five years later, when his name came up in our conversations, I had every reason to like what I had seen. I’d followed his path through junior and college to the big leagues, and he kept getting better.

Three years into his career with the Boston Bruins, after being drafted fifth overall in 2006, Phil was emerging as an NHL star. His scoring had improved each year, to 36 goals and 60 points in that third season. But quirkiness isn’t always accepted in the NHL, and with both sides wavering on what a new contract might look like there was a clear impasse.

Boston was uneasy about stepping up financially, and Phil took that as a sign he wasn’t wanted. Murmurs grew louder, and Nonis — who had ties to Bruins GM Peter Chiarelli — kept a close eye on the situation.

At one point the idea of an offer sheet was floated, though that didn’t seem like the best way. A willingness to pay the equivalent of draft-pick compensation for an offer sheet, though, would help structure a trade in the end: for first- and second-round picks in 2010 and a first-rounder in 2011. The trade was finalized in mid-September, during training camp.

In revisionist history, logic dictates you would have lottery protected those picks, but that was not common practice at the time. And when you’re trading for a star player and riding the optimism of a fresh start with a new group, you don’t expect to finish low in the standings.

With those picks, the Bruins ended up drafting Tyler Seguin (second overall) and Jared Knight (32nd) in 2010, then Dougie Hamilton (ninth) the following year.

The problem with the trade was never Kessel’s play. Phil did everything that was asked of him on the ice. He played in all but the first 12 games of his Leafs tenure, recovering from earlier shoulder surgery. He averaged 30 goals and 66 points in six seasons for Toronto, with highs of 37 goals (twice) and 82 points.

We, in management, weren’t able to build enough around him. While college free-agent Tyler Bozak was an efficient linemate at centre, Phil never had a truly elite playmaker or scorer to play with. That was on us.

He was not a stand-alone star. He had stand-alone star skills, but not the entire package to be that guy. In many ways, Toronto was too big, too demanding off the ice, and that wasn’t Phil. He just wanted to play.

The reason he was so popular with teammates was that he cared for them, not about what happened outside the room. As much as he frustrated some teammates who thought he could have accomplished more with his pure talent, they accepted what he did produce.

Pittsburgh was the perfect landing place for Phil. He won two Stanley Cups, contributing strongly to both as the complementary co-star to Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, Kris Letang and Marc-André Fleury. At the edge of the spotlight, Phil could excel, smile and walk away quietly.

The best part of watching the last week play out was that Kessel seems like the unlikeliest of ironmen. With 1,212 regular-season games played, and well on his way to the 1,000-point mark with 959, he has made his mark on the game. We may look back some day and say it was actually a pretty good trade.

What will be remembered for certain by this hockey generation is that there was a way to do things differently. You might just call that Phil.

Dave Poulin is a former NHL player, executive and TSN hockey analyst based in Toronto. He is a freelance contributing columnist for the Star. Follow him on Twitter: @djpoulin20

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