There will be no sad songs sung for Martin Brodeur if ownership’s perilous state makes it necessary for the franchise goaltender to leave his franchise behind. He will make millions elsewhere, everyone understands that.
Still, if the 40-year-old career Devil does leave New Jersey, then Jeff Vanderbeek and his obviously underfinanced ownership will have perpetrated a betrayal of the fan base well beyond the scope of which the Wilpons have ever been accused.
The story is yet to be written in finality. Perhaps there is less to Brodeur hiring agent Pat Brisson on Friday than meets the eye. Perhaps this is Brodeur — coming off one of the great romanticized runs in Stanley Cup history, during which he twisted Battle of the Hudson history New Jersey’s way 18 years later — reminding ownership he is not to be taken for granted.
But that’s not likely. The fact is, this was an extreme step taken by Brodeur, who has operated without an agent and has negotiated his own contracts with president and general manager Lou Lamoriello since 1995, when he engaged in a bitter training camp holdout while represented by Gilles Lupien months after the Devils’ first Stanley Cup victory.
Scott Niedermayer held out that camp. Stephane Richer was in a contract dispute. Claude Lemieux attempted to annul a contract he agreed to late the previous season, filing a grievance against Lamoriello that led to the Conn Smythe winner’s departure via a trade before the Stanley Cup championship banner could be raised at the opener at the Meadowlands.
But it was the standoff with Brodeur that evolved into what still stands the nastiest public dispute between a player’s agent and Lamoriello in franchise history. Lupien repeatedly attacked the GM in this space in this newspaper, in personal terms, questioning his integrity in attempting to move an all but unmovable object who typically used every bit of the considerable leverage he owned against a player who had none.
This was one year after the Blues had extended New Jersey captain Scott Stevens a Group II offer sheet that Lamoriello matched. There was educated expectation that St. Louis, run by Mike Keenan, would do the same with Brodeur. .
Late that July, the Blues traded two first-round draft picks to Edmonton for Shayne Corson that would have been used as compensation for Brodeur. But within a week, St. Louis got them back in a deal for Curtis Joseph and Mike Grier, thus laying the groundwork for an expected bid on the then 23-year-old goaltender.
But for reasons never explained, the NHLPA entered into a hasty agreement with the NHL that defined reacquired draft picks as “encumbered” and thus could not be used as offer sheet compensation.
This action alienated Brodeur from the union. Never would he care what executive director Bob Goodenow felt about him later accepting below-market contracts in order to allow Lamoriello to maintain a salary structure the GM believed necessary to compete for multiple championships.
So in September 1995, Brodeur had nowhere to go. Lamoriello was playing hardball, the way he would during the next number of years with Niedermayer, Billy Guerin, Patrik Elias, Petr Sykora and Jason Arnott. Instead of seeking compromise, Lamoriello was threatening to reduce his offers by the day.
It was the Wednesday night the final week of September that I received a phone call at home from Brodeur, who wanted to know whether I thought Lamoriello would follow through on a threat to withdraw a signing bonus if he did not sign within 24 hours.
I told him that I couldn’t tell him what to do, but that a Lamoriello threat was as good as a promise, that I had no doubt the bonus would disappear and ensuing offers would decrease.
Brodeur didn’t sign within 24 hours. The signing bonus was removed from the table. A day later, one week before the season opener, Brodeur walked into Lamoriello’s office at the Meadowlands and negotiated his own contract, a three-year deal worth $5.3 million.
The goaltender negotiated his own contract just as he would negotiate every other contract with Lamoriello from that day forward.
Brodeur operated without an agent from that day forward. Until two days ago, that is, when the franchise’s fate forced the franchise’s face to do the previously unthinkable and hire an agent to represent him on the open market if necessary.
There will be no sad songs for Brodeur if he is forced to leave New Jersey. He will make millions elsewhere, perhaps win a fourth Stanley Cup.
But if he goes, it will represent the saddest day ever for the franchise and for its fan base and a day of shame for ownership.