The Night of the Cat: Can Andrei Vasilevskiy spring back?

The seventh game of the season suddenly seems to be important. The Tampa Bay Lightning won't have a long story if Andrei Vasilevskiy doesn't stand tall.
The seventh game of the season suddenly seems to be important. The Tampa Bay Lightning won't have a long story if Andrei Vasilevskiy doesn't stand tall. | Chris Tanouye/Freestyle Photo/GettyImages

In the rhythm of the newborn day
You know sometime you’re bound to leave her
But for now you’re going to stay
In the year of the cat
Year of the cat

-Al Stewart

“The Year of the Cat” is a song that tells a story. The story is not about a cat. The story doesn’t involve a cat. Nearly a half-century since Al Stewart released “The Year of the Cat,” the song remains well known. This isn't just because it's a good song; it's because the song shows us that something doesn’t have to make sense to be meaningful.

Which naturally brings us to the Tampa Bay Lightning.

The most meaningful moment of the Lightning’s just-concluded road trip wasn’t when Brandon Hagel raced to pick the biscuit out of the basket so as to bestow a souvenir upon Conor Geekie to commemorate the rookie’s first NHL point. (As cool as that was.)

The Tampa Bay Lightning need more of Andrei Vasilevskiy

The most meaningful moment wasn’t Hagel’s first goal against the New Jersey Devils, which gave the Lightning a much-needed lead in a game that, until that moment, looked like a third-straight loss. It wasn’t his second goal or third goal, either. Natural hat tracks are cool but no.

The most meaningful moment wasn’t Erik Cernak’s big hit.

The most meaningful moment wasn’t J.J. Moser’s bank shot.

Nah. As meaningful as those moments were — or at least, in the case of Moser’s boot-hockey goal, as weird as they were — none of these compared to what happened 29 minutes and 31 seconds into Monday’s game at Toronto.

That’s when coach Jon Cooper started telling a new story about his cat.

That’s the moment the Tampa Bay coach pulled goalie Andrei “Big Cat” Vasilevskiy from the game.

Pulled him from the game mid-period.

Pulled him from the game in front of a lubed-up Toronto crowd that lives to taunt opponents (so as compensate for a collective generational shame given the fact the Maple Leafs haven’t won a Stanley Cup since the league expanded to greater than six teams).

Pulled the Big Cat knowing full well he wanted to stay in his cage.

This showed that, in fact, Cooper does have control over his goalie.

As recently as last year, when Vasilevskiy was having an off night, the coach seemingly didn’t have the wherewithal to decide whether or not to remove his own goalie from the game. A signal would go out from the bench and the goalie would wave off said signal. End of story.

Instead, if an in-game change had to be made, Cooper would do it between periods when the skate of shame a pulled goalie makes would not have to be performed by the esteemed Vasilevskiy.

Cooper is known as a player’s coach and, circa 2024, we live in high-sensitivity times. But it smacked of a noteworthy lack of authority.

Now, of course, Cooper has won two Cups and oodles games in a long tenure. This one thing isn’t enough to measure his performance or style. Yet, despite all his earned cred, it was incredulous that Cooper was that deferential to a goalie, even one as decorated as Vasilevskiy.

On Monday, he wasn’t. And he was right not to be. Vasilevskiy looked, well, he was not quick as a feline.

The goal that led to the end of his evening went in over his shoulder. The shot had been taken from the point — floated toward the net by Maple Leaf forward Max Pacioretty. The shot wasn’t deflected. To summarize, a 6-foot-4, 220-pound man, Vasilevskiy, was beaten over the shoulder from the point. Folks, the net is four feet high. Vasilevskiy could have stood there, not moved a muscle, and the puck would have hit him.

Yet the previous goal might have been worse. After he dribbled one through Vasilevskiy’s legs, even Toronto forward William Nylander’s body language said, “I shouldn’t have scored there.”

Vasilevskiy didn’t have it. Back-up Jonas Johansson mopped up and then started the next night against the Devils, the lone win of the road trip.

That Vasilevskiy was pulled and then watched as the team got along just fine without him means that Thursday night’s game at home against the Minnesota Wild suddenly seems like a barometer of sorts.

After a solid opening night, Vasilevskiy sits at 3-2-0 with a pedestrian 3.14 goals against average. He hasn’t saved even 88 percent of the shots he’s faced.

You might find it hard to call the seventh game of a hockey season significant, but then you don’t come here for convention.

The Wild are a hot team. Minnesota just skated all over the defending Stanley Cup champion Florida Panthers on the road. The Wild hasn’t so much as trailed yet this season. Vasilevskiy will need to be better than he’s been and he should be highly motivated. He’s been resting and, presumably, seething since mid-way through the game on Monday night.

Remember: Things don’t have to make sense to be meaningful. Maybe not coddling the Big Cat was the way to go. A little embarrassment can be useful now and then. Because you feel that and you don’t want to feel it ever again. The claws should be out.

I know what you’re thinking: Did you check the Vietnamese Zodiac? Maybe this is the year of the cat.

I did. And isn’t. Now, let’s not take the moniker — or the song — too far. Metaphors are great fun. But they don’t stop flying discs of vulcanized rubber. Goalies do.

Coach Cooper wants more from his goalie. Strangely, maybe pulling him the other night is what will, if oddly, will bring that about. We shall see.

It’s not an insignificant question; this isn’t just a story about a Big Cat. How Vasilevskiy plays reveals the narrative possibilities of the Tampa Bay season.

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