TAMPA - When it comes to stable, the only thing the Lightning knows is this:
During its first season, it used to play in one.
Perhaps that is why Monday felt so odd. It was national stability day. Nothing wobbled, nothing fell.
Across the ice, the face of stability was all scrunched up. John Tortorella had seen something he didn't like and, from the looks of it, it was to his left. At least, that's the direction he kept pointing, the way Lewis signaled to Clark once they got to Ohio.
As twisted, wound-too-tight images go, this one wasn't much on the Tortorella scale. It was just Tortorella, trying to cram another 75 seconds into another minute.
By now, the players of the Lightning have grown accustomed the loud, abrupt sound of Tortorella. Now, as he pointed to his left, his voice came spilling across the ice like a rolling ball of butcher knives. To sum up, the voice of stability sounded something like this:
At least, that's what it sounded like from the stands. There is something about Tortorella's voice at practice that is swallowed up by the emptiness of the arena, distorted until it turns into noise. It is the sound of a drill sergeant's voice, and it is easy to identify the demand long before anyone could pick out the words.
Monday, it should be said, the voice sounded particularly soothing.
The Lightning, until recently the most unstable of teams, the very nitroglycerin of franchises, had itself one heck of a day at the office. Contracts for everybody! For you, for you, even for you! Bill Davidson's buying!
Tortorella got a new contract. Finally. So did general manager Jay Feaster. So did the assistant coaches, the video coach, the strength coach and the kid who brings in the Krispy Kremes. If you work for the Lightning and you did not get a raise, you should check your driver's license to make sure it does not read "Jacques Demers."
If Monday felt kind of strange to you, you are forgiven. This stability stuff is kind of new around here. We are used to falling sky.
Who was the last Lightning coach who deserved an extension? For that matter, who was the last coach who wanted one? For years, Tampa Bay was the Shawshank of the NHL.
Thanks to Feaster and Tortorella, that has changed. Even if you believe the contracts should have been offered earlier, well, no harm, no foul. The sides eventually got it done.
Still, there was a gnawing, nagging curiosity that came with the announcement. Also, there was a question. "What took so long?"
Most of us came to the conclusion long ago that Tortorella had earned his supper. He had pushed and prodded and stepped on toes. He raised expectations, and he demanded accountability.
You want glory? Last year was the most successful in the history of the franchise. You want guts? He took on Vinny Lecavalier, and he benched Nikolai Khabibulin. He had raised expectations, and he had demanded accountability. Together with Feaster, and with underrated assistant coach Craig Ramsay, Tortorella made the Lightning matter again.
Wasn't that enough for a new contract? Turns out, it wasn't.
It was as if ownership was impressed that Hannibal had made it over the mountains with the elephants, but now, they wanted to see what he could do with hippos and deserts. Maybe kangaroos and oceans.
"We believed John earned his extension with the great start this year, coupled with last year," team president Ron Campbell said. "It wasn't until then. I would say what really convinced us was the way he handled losing during that streak in December where we didn't play well."
Look, it's nice that the Lightning was careful in its decision, and it's delightful it eventually came to the same conclusion as the rest of the free world. This extension was so slow, so late, it's easy to see a bit of the old Lightning in it.
To a cynical eye, it appears the Lightning was hedging its bets in case Tortorella got off to a miserable start and the team decided it had to fire him. This is the NHL, after all. Coaches have been fired following a lot more successful years than last year for the Lightning.
It's odd. I've seen a lot of Lightning coaches halfway between getting a new contract and having one taken out on them. I wouldn't have thought Tortorella to be one of them.
Yet, management wanted to see more. There had been some disagreements down the stretch, when players the team had traded for didn't see sufficient ice time. There were spats over the summer, about Vinny Prospal's contract, about the coaches' contracts. Even Tortorella admits he and Feaster "fought like cats and dogs."
Whatever the concerns were, and whatever your concerns were about those concerns, this year has eased them. The Lightning is well on its way to another division title. As an organization, it looks promising, smart, cohesive.
Who would have believed any of this on Jan. 6, 2001? That's when Tortorella took over a team covered in ooze. It was losing, and no one expected anything else. It was lost, and no one cared if anyone found it. What were Tortorella's odds of success? About the same as Angela Lansbury running the Boston Marathon.
Yet, 31 coaches have been hired in the NHL since then. Only nine coaches have longer tenure with their current team.
Yeah, he steps on toes sometimes. Yeah, he speaks his mind. Yeah, he admits, people will get annoyed with him in the future, too.
Still, he's the right coach for this team. It's a good thing the Lightning management recognized it.
