At the end of the playoffs of these annual Deep Rangers, most of the past decade was when game stars and marquee athletes spoke to the media from a platform rather than in front of their respective closets. .
So it would take ten minutes to listen to, say, Derick Brassard, Ryan McDonagh, or Martin St. Louis after a game or training. But it would be 15 minutes, maybe 20 minutes, maybe even 25 minutes before Henrik Lundqvist took the podium.
Or as President Kennedy once said about his wife, Jacqueline, as The First Lady made the audience wait for her entry: “It takes a little longer to get Jackie ready, but it’s worth it.”
Lundqvist’s hair, of course, would be perfectly curly. Her dress, of course, well, would be perfect for the occasion. The national media that congregated those sources in New York would almost yearn. I think one or more of the national columnists in fact referred to Lundqvist’s life as “perfect”.
The boys were probably not that far away. Lundqvist was an all-time NHL goalie with a personality alike, the Rangers ’biggest star since Gretzky played on Broadway. He was more than friendly with restless minds. He was respectful of everyone he came across.
It was a GQ page that came to life. But that will probably trivialize its profound impact in New York. Not only did he win more games than any goalkeeper in the franchise’s history, but he and his wife, Therese, became part of the community fabric. The couple’s charitable work on behalf of the Henrik Lundqvist Foundation is recognized, they had two young daughters.
Yes, Henrik Lundqvist and his family were perfect.
But, as we were reminded on Thursday, perfect health is not guaranteed to a perfect person and family for photography. Because we learned from Lundqvist himself through social media that he will not be able to play this season due to a newly discovered heart disease that will require treatment. He won’t be wearing the Capitals jersey in search of the Stanley Cup that eluded him for 15 seasons in New York.
We understand that Lundqvist’s condition does not endanger his life. We also understand that this is not related to COVID-19. But this year he will not be able to play. Most likely, because he will turn 39 in March, this will mark the end of his career.
This is once, “Once a ranger, always a ranger,” sounds as empty as it gets.
I know how eagerly Lundqvist expected the season, the energy he had to join forces with Alex Ovechkin, Nicklas Backstrom, Carl Hagelin and the DC crew. This would be the second chapter of the king. That was going to be perfect.
As if we needed it in 2020, we received another shock and another reminder of our mortality, of how precious our time is, and of our obligation to maximize life while we have the opportunity. And we receive this reminder not for a death, but for the medical condition of a professional athlete of all time whose career is thus probably over.
Lundqvist’s commitment and approach is legendary. The Swede’s attention will now shift from the track to his health and his heart that has always belonged to New York. This may not represent the perfect ending he imagined and others wanted on his behalf, but then it is not a perfect world.