Marc Andre Fleury, goalie culture and the post-save celebration

YAAAHHOO! Man, is this fun or what? (thanks to rubyswoon for the image)

Since the playoffs began, Pittsburgh Penguins’ goalie Marc Andre Fleury has had no shortage of opportunities to display his Cirque du Soleil acrobatics against the likes of Richards and Carter, Ovechkin and Semin, Staal and Jokinen. However, what few of us ever see, or hear, are the screams and cheers that follow the saves. Not the ones from the fans; rather the ones from Fleury himself! Under that bizarre mask (apparently it’s a venus fly trap, not what looks like a slimy jellyfish on the side), the Pens’ star is known as one who likes to let loose when he flashes the leather against an enemy shooter.

Even before Alex Ovechkin took to flying through the air and body checking the glass after a goal, Gretzky already had his ballerinesque routine (running on tip-toes into the arms of an ecstatic Messier or Kurri) and Mike Foligno had perfected “the dance” (throwing his gloves in the air and jumping repeatedly as high as he could, knees raised and arms flapping like a mad albatross). If high emotion is in fact the lifeblood of the sport, why then have we almost no record of goalies performing some celebratory act after a heart-stopping, game changing save?

Granted, there is one famous black and white clip of Jacques Plante, whipping off his mask and thrusting it proudly skyward (perhaps in vindication to the bewildered home fans and still skeptical coach Toe Blake). The interim 50 years, however, show the prevailing image to be one of a stoic, expressionless, «never-let-em-see-you-sweat» kinda guy whose job is to stop the puck but never betray that a hockey game is anything less than 60 minutes of purgatory before the final buzzer.

Frank « Ulcers » McCool drank a quart of milk before games, and even then was known to return to the dressing room in the middle of a period to calm his quaking innards. Glenn Hall made a career of secretly throwing up before his games. Ken Dryden’s defining pose of leaning on his goalie stick, arms crossed in a show of indifference, stands out as one of the classic hallmarks of the dreary trade. Even today our goalie archetypes are emotional flatliners, with names like « the Bulin Wall » and « the Dominator » (à la « the Terminator », a passionless and monosyllabic icon if ever there was).

Fleury, on the other hand, is nothing like these sticks-in-the-mud. In a recent interview he talks about his habit of getting loud and proud when making a big save, something he has been called on to perform profusely since the playoffs began. « I’ve had this habit for a long time », he explains. « I’ve always liked having fun when I make a nice save. It’s fun for me and anyways, when a player scores he isn’t shy about yelling, so I am just doing the same ».

I had the opportunity to meet Fleury at a private practice in his hometown Sorel before the 2007-08 season. An empty hockey arena in balmy late August might seem like the last place to have any fun, but even in that sedate setting, Fleury displayed an amazing intensity and eagerness, all the while a grin fixed on his boyish face. One has to wonder whether 30 minutes of butterfly pushes and 30 more of 3 vs. 0 rebound drills could be considered fun, but whatever the case, the Pens goalie was a whirling dervish, sliding, pushing, diving and cussing like it was the 7th game of the Stanley Cup finals. And this was in August, go figure. After the practice he was relaxed and open to chatting with me, the star-struck garage league 40-something goalie who could hardly get a sentence straight without babbling, in awe of this young man who exuded so much grace, poise and charm.

The point is, with all of the money and hype that surrounds and even chokes the sport of hockey, it was gratifying to see someone at the highest level still firmly attached to the real reason to play the game. Just because it’s fun. Fleury has been known to be a rather « aw shucks » type of guy in an interview. My own experience suggests that maybe this is not a disguise, but rather a hint at what really makes the athlete tick. He thrives on the game and simply happens to have the talent to get paid for what he has loved all along.

If Fleury can make a death defying circus grab on Ovechkin’s baddest breakaway shot, then come away laughing and screaming « that was fun ! », perhaps we can all take note : forget the money, the pressure we put on our kids, the need for titles and trophies. Just play the game and enjoy. However, if you do bust a move making that save, feel free to let out a whoop…