Friday, December 10, 2010

#19MarkusNäslund - 6: The West Coast Express

"He was so crafty, skated so well and was so smooth," said Canucks defenceman Keith Ballard, who got his WCE baptism in 2005-06, as an NHL rookie in Phoenix. "He could beat you so many different ways. He had a good shot and could skate, but always had his head up and found the open guy. 
"If you took a bit of a risk and tried to step up on him to make a play, he would just put the puck by you. And he was so good on the power play on the half wall coming up and rolling up high. I was nervous being out there against those [WCE] guys, they were really something."


Like a trio of superheroes each with their own distinct power, Naslund, Morrison and Bertuzzi all brought something unique to the West Coast Express.
Naslund: Skill. Morrison: Speed. Bertuzzi: Size.

“All three of them had different skill sets,” said Bieksa, “obviously Todd was the big bruiser who went into the corners and protected the puck well and had good touch around the net, Markus was the shooter and the guy that would carry the puck the most and Brendan was just the perfect compliment to them, he could give the puck off to both guys, he was opportunistic.”

Stopping the West Coast Express wasn’t an option, slowing it down barely was, and if regrettable circumstances hadn’t gotten in the way of its production and chemistry, 2002-03 would have just been the tip of the iceberg. 


"They liked playing together, had a lot of fun and it was comical at times," recalled Crawford, now coach of the Dallas Stars. "Mo deserved a medal some days, but he was the kind of guy who could handle the impact of what was happening. They could really play a puck-possession game and it was a special line for a number of years."


“But probably the fondest memories I have is when we had a bunch of guys who were about the same age and we kind of grew up together a little bit. We had a lot of fun." - Markus Naslund


“I admire him as a player and as a person,” Morrison said. “I think he’s probably going to be a little bit embarrassed by all the attention. He was never a guy who craved the limelight. But this is going to be a special night.”


You would think Brendan Morrison's number was being honoured Saturday, judging by his level of anticipation to witness Markus Naslund's No. 19 jersey being raised to the rafters in Rogers Arena.
"It's a very special night," said the centre of the famed West Coast Express line. "For me, to have the chance to be there and feel the emotion in the rink is something I'm going to remember for the rest of my life. 
"I can tell my kids whenever we go to the rink again and his number is hanging up there that dad actually played with that guy. We had a lot of big years."


Big might be an understatement. The Vancouver Canucks trio was incredible and intimidating with an intoxicating blend of speed, power and finesse. The line combined for an eye-popping 119 goals and 272 points in the 2002-03 season and was arguably the game's greatest alignment during that campaign. And even thought the WCE would eventually slow down, at its best it was a runaway train.


"It wasn't are we going to score tonight? It was, how many are we going to score tonight?," recalled Morrison. "I can tell you it's a really good feeling and I haven't had that for a while. When you're an offensive player and are in that groove, there's no better feeling. And we were so competitive.
"We took pride in being the best line and we went against top lines. It was a big challenge and one that we were excited about."


"I spoke to Bert and he was really upset he couldn't be in Vancouver for the ceremony. He kind of lit up when we were talking about it, which was pretty cool to see."
Some good WCE stories:

Morrison and teammate Ed Jovanovski bought wigs Wednesday night on a lark, and wore them to an Italian restaurant in the upscale Cherry Creek neighborhood of Denver to see if Bertuzzi and captain Markus Naslund would recognize them.
"It was probably not [a restaurant] where you should be wearing wigs," Morrison admitted. "We were going to sit in the restaurant and see if they knew who we were."


After a practice before Game 6 in the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs last spring in St. Louis, Vancouver Canucks center Brendan Morrison was holding court with reporters.

"Can you estimate how often you see Todd Bertuzzi or Markus Naslund first when looking to pass the puck?" one reporter asks.

"Uh ... I don't know," Morrison says. "That's a good question. All I know is sometimes there isn't enough puck to go around."

Walking by just about that time, Naslund grumbles, "You put me offside on that one play in the third period last night."

Bertuzzi takes his turn, "Are you still talking to these guys?"

"See," Morrison says. "Sometimes I can't win. I remember a game earlier in the season in which Bertuzzi thought he should have had a hat trick," laughs Morrison. "On the flight home, he was relentless. He was blaming everyone. Finally, he blurted out. 'You're 24 and bald.' I could hear everyone laughing -- and I wasn't going to let him have the last word, so ...

"I said, 'I'm 26 asshole.' "

With a big smile on his face, Morrison said there was silence for the rest of the flight.

What is clear is that the line of Todd Bertuzzi, Markus Naslund and Brendan Morrison is like a rock group on tour. They are easily the most-talked about line in the NHL.

"They quarrel and bicker about not getting the puck enough all the time while they're on the bench," Canucks General Manager Brian Burke says. "But that's just a part of their competitive makeup. What usually happens is: Brendan tells them to shut up, and then there is silence ... at least until the next shift."

Despite Bertuzzi being the best power forward in the NHL and Naslund silky smooth with all of that talent, Brendan Morrison is clearly the glue that makes this line go.  



Near the end of a Vancouver Canucks practice last week, Markus Naslund playfully shot a puck that struck Todd Bertuzzi on the ankle, which meant that Bertuzzi had to shoot a puck at Naslund's ankle, which led to some serious face-to-face jawing, which led to Naslund's grazing Bertuzzi's chin with the butt end of his stick, which led to...nothing. The minor contretemps was noted in The Vancouver Sun, but it was as newsworthy as a forecast of rain in the Pacific Northwest. For the NHL's No. 1 line of wings Naslund and Bertuzzi and center Brendan Morrison, it was just another day, another holler? They operate in the dressing-room universe of verbal shots, sarcasm and horseplay, tormenting each other with fervor and affection. Nothing is sacred, including Morrison's prematurely receding hairline and his can't-break-a-pane-of-glass slap shot. No one has to offer a penny for their thoughts, although Morrison said earlier in the season, on the Canucks' plane, that Bertuzzi would take the coin because he's "so cheap his wallet must be an onion—he weeps every time he takes it out." Bertuzzi responded by putting Morrison in what he calls a "death grip," but that didn't compare to a wrestling match Bertuzzi had with Naslund on a plane. The three behave like the brothers none of them has. Naslund, Morrison and Bertuzzi—in the absence of a nickname, let's call them the Brotherhood—have turned the NHL into their personal rec room.

The line's shifts are routinely entertaining, hardly a surprise considering that in the calendar year 2002 Bertuzzi, a power forward, led the NHL with 102 points; Naslund, a superb finisher, was No. 1 in the league with 48 goals; and Morrison, the passer, had 76 points, the 10th-best total. Their moments on the bench are no less captivating. They sit together, heads bobbing, tongues wagging, hands cutting the air in serpentine sweeps, animatedly deconstructing their last 45 seconds on the ice. "They bicker and bicker," says Canucks wing Trent Klatt. " 'I want the puck on my stick,' and 'Put it here,' and 'Why didn't you go there?' " On occasion they are told to pipe down by coach Marc Crawford.

Morrison bears the brunt of the abuse from linemates in his role as the kid brother (at 27 he is six months younger than Bertuzzi and two years Naslund's junior), the center and the trio's newcomer. Most NHL lines start with a center and a complementary winger, but the Brotherhood is an anomaly, built from the wings in, like the Paul Kariya- Teemu Selanne line for the Anaheim Mighty Ducks in the late 1990s. Naslund and Bertuzzi have been together for more than two years; Morrison joined them on Jan. 9, 2002, which seems like a century ago in the NHL because lines are routinely blown up weekly. Morrison had been languishing on the wing, but with oft-injured No. 1 center Andrew Cassels a free-agent-to-be, Vancouver needed a more permanent option. Morrison is not as deft a passer as Cassels, but he's quicker and a more dangerous shooter, a trait that does not always please his puck-hungry wingers, who have combined for 404 points in the past 2? seasons, more than any other two linemates in the NHL.

"I give Mo a lot of credit," Naslund says. "It's not the easiest job to play with me and Todd. He has to get us the puck and do the defensive work down low that's expected of a centerman. He's not afraid to shoot. He likes to use his slapper"—pause, smile—"even if it doesn't break 75 miles per hour."

Naslund is the most unheralded star in the NHL, a slasher who finds seams better than anyone but the Detroit Red Wings' Brett Hull. From the start of the 2000-01 season through Sunday, Naslund led all left wings with 109 goals—29 more than Kariya, 66 more than John LeClair of the Philadelphia Flyers, 24 more than Keitli Tkachuk of the St. Louis Blues—and had a better all-around game than those highly touted players. Naslund and the Dallas Stars' Bill Guerin were the only players with at least 40 goals in each of the last two seasons; Naslund, who led the NHL with 28 at week's end, was on pace for 57 in '02-03-

"He's been the best player in the league the past couple of years—by far," Bertuzzi says of Naslund. "We don't have a payroll like Dallas or the New York Rangers. We can't surround him with big-salary guys. We've had to work from the bottom up. His accomplishment is bringing this team to where it is now." (Despite a low $32 million payroll—the Brotherhood earns a combined $9.4 million, only $670,000 more than Guerin does—Vancouver led the Northwest Division with a 24-11-5-0 record.)

This insight into the Canucks' dynamics is hardly stunning, except for the fact that it comes from Bertuzzi, a 6'3", 240-pound man-child with quick feet and soft hands who never has been considered the brains of an outfit. He is the rambunctious middle son, the one who punches his brothers on the shoulder a little too hard. But the man in him dominates the child most days. Bertuzzi did not awake one morning and decide to abandon his rash, sometimes destructive ways, but the consensus of those around him is that the automatic 10-game suspension he served early in 2001-02, for leaving the bench during a brawl, helped him refocus. The other defining moment in his maturation occurred away from the headlines. Vancouver G.M. Brian Burke traded wing Donald Brashear to Philadelphia in December 2001, and the card games in the back of the Canucks' plane were no longer as much fun for Bertuzzi. Soon after, he plopped himself next to Naslund near the front of the plane. Now, when they're not smacking each other with pillows, they're talking about cars or their young children or, sometimes, their demanding hockey fathers. In walking 30 feet forward, Bertuzzi traveled light-years.

"When I came into the league I said that I never wanted to be here five or 10 years and not be acknowledged," Bertuzzi said last Friday. "I didn't want to be the Average Joe who plays, retires and then is forgotten. I'm in a situation in which I can accomplish things—Markus has made me a more patient player. Before, I'd want to get the puck off my stick as soon as possible. Markus saw me differently, as a guy with skill. Now I'm holding onto the puck, using the extra second to do something creative."

Bertuzzi and Naslund are disparate men with different styles who play opposite wings, but they are related through something more powerful than blood: failure. "All three of us are castoffs," says Morrison, who was acquired from the New Jersey Devils in March 2000 for two-time 50-plus-goal wing Alexander Mogilny, which is not the same as being dealt for a bag of pucks. Morrison's big brothers, however, were spectacular first-round flameouts. Naslund grew up as the hockey equal of Peter Forsberg in their hometown of Ornskoldsvik, Sweden, but he stumbled after being picked 16th in the 1991 draft by Pittsburgh. In the worst trade in NHL history, the Penguins swapped him in '96 for goon Alek Stojanov, who finished his 107-game NHL career with two goals, the same number that Naslund had in the second period last Thursday in a 3-2 victory over the Montreal Canadiens. Bertuzzi, whose inconsistent play frustrated the New York Islanders after they made him the 23rd pick in '93, was banished to Vancouver in February '98 with defenseman Bryan McCabe for center Trevor Linden. Naslund and Bertuzzi started on a clean sheet of ice in British Columbia, in the right place with the right partner.




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