Is Mike Babcock A Movie Villain?
Image: Maple Leafs Hot Stove
If you hadn’t noticed by now, we love our hockey.
Crown’s a Toronto brand, and all who watch hockey know that not only is it a religion here, but whenever a play gets reviewed in an NHL game, no matter where that game’s being played, Toronto’s the place from which the final word is delivered.
Also, hockey’s Hall of Fame resides in Toronto, so come on.
They’ll say Montreal’s hockey’s home, what with their 24 championships and the NHL having been founded there in 1917. Fine. But Toronto fans are a special, if not impetuous breed.
And bless them, for few fan bases have felt more pain (someone save those Detroit Lions).
I’ll break the fourth wall here for a moment (which, within the context of writing this blog, means referring to myself — the author — in first person) — I’m not a Toronto Maple Leafs fan, and for the sake of keeping half our readership, I won’t reveal the NHL team I support.
No, it’s not the Canadiens.
But, I will repeat Leafs fans have borne lash after lash like no other group.
From the Dark Times of meandering through nothingness (read: The Harold Ballard Era) to Gretzky’s snuffing of ‘93’s Cup dream to their now being this close to owning the longest championship drought in NHL history (they’re 53 years sans a trophy, going on 54), the Leafs are cursed like no team before them. Even the Cubs and the Red Sox broke their curses.
Even the Buffalo Bills are making it happen again.
And yet, Leafs fans are still there, eating shit.
Love them or hate them, you’ve got to admire that resolve.
Of all the ways they’ve suffered, there’s one Leafs fans won’t soon forget.
Not that it’s new, but the Leafs are no longer bad. Far from, from in fact. They’ve been rebuilt the right way, and with some luck, snagged one Auston Matthews first overall in 2016’s entry draft, a player whose elitism has since made him as feared as he is respected. Add a Mitch Marner and a John Tavares, along with competent management, and the Leafs are good again. They play playoff hockey again. This team could end the hex. And yes, you could argue World Junior, Stanley Cup and two-time Olympic gold-winning ex-coach, Mike Babcock, had a part in this. But don’t say that to Leafs fans anymore.
In late November of 2019, back when Babcock was still a Leafs’ coach, the Toronto Sun published a bombshell of a piece exposing some sketchy attempts at motivating his guys; Last fall, the 57-year-old called a private meeting with his star winger, Mitch Marner. According to the 2015 fourth overall pick (who’s now a monster), Babcock asked the him to rat those who he thought lacked “work ethic” — a term Babcock all but leaned on when this went viral — by ranking them to him. Then, Babcock allegedly went and showed Marner’s list to the team.
Here’s a quote he tossed acclaimed hockey analyst, Elliotte Friedman, after it happened: “I was trying to focus on work ethic with Mitch — focusing on role models — ended up not being a good idea. I apologized [to Mitch] at the time.”
Trying to focus on work ethic. See?
The Leafs booted Babcock after that debacle, and no one batted an eye.
A 24-year-old Babcock during his Whitely Warrior days in the British Hockey League, circa 1987. Image: Wikimedia Commons
A lot of you know this happened. It’s done.
But Babcock’s back, and things are picking up where they left off. Kind of.
“Babs,” as he’s been known through his storied career, is now a commentator on NBC Sports’ Hockey panel. Two days ago, he made his debut during an afternoon tangle between the now bad Blackhawks and the equally bad Red Wings (with whom he spent nine years as gaffer and won a title in 2008), two teams in the midst of their own rebuilds.
We knew Babcock had laid low and nursed his wounds. We all knew what went down last year. Yet, last Sunday, during that Hawks Wings game, the guy was still asked about it all. In what can only be described as a premeditated try at public self-redemption, Babs just sat there while his co-hosts spoon-fed him a prescribed script.
When they asked him to give his version of the Marner thing, here’s what he said:
“Yeah, that’s not how it happened. I brought Mitch in to meet with him and asked him to rank his work ethic against everyone else’s on the team. You got to remember, part of my job…was to make sure these kids were the best players at 23, 24…I said, ‘Mitch, this is what I’ve done. I’ve put you in a bad spot. Why don’t I address it in front of the team?’ He didn’t want to make a bigger deal of it. I apologized to Mitch about it…is there anything you do? In coaching you make mistakes every day, and that was one of them.”
The NHL is a business, albeit a ruthless one. We get it. Babcock gets that, too. But this isn’t how you apologize for such chicanery, and while that might sound obvious, it has to be said. If you want to learn how to deflect like some bizarro version of Wonder Woman, then do this.
“You know, I was an asshole back then. I thought I could get the guys going by messing with their heads, playing some mind games. In the end, I did some serious damage.”
That would’ve been something. But this?
Respect’s a funny thing.
As Babcock proved, you can earn it while still causing harm. That’s the maddening nature of life — sometimes, some things just don’t add up. Some dualities are ugly and hard to chew, but worth studying for what they can teach us. What’s fair is fair and Mike Babcock owns enough hardware to go down as one of the sharpest minds in the game.
The problem here is the Marner thing’s not the first stain on Babcock’s record.
There’s the time he scratched NHL legend, Mike Modano, during his final game. It would’ve been the 1,500th of his 1,000+ point, illustrious career. If you grew up watching ‘90s hockey, you knew this guy was special.
There’s the time he tried scratching a former league great in Chris Chelios when he played for the Wings during a game against — once again — the Chicago Blackhawks, a team the famed defender had captained in his prime years during the ‘90s.
Or how about former NHLer and Cup winner, Mike Commodore, who’s sung every ugly detail of his alleged hell as a Babcock player. If anyone spews venom at Babs in the open, it’s Mike Commodore. Here’s what he tweeted once he watched the broadcast:
“Folks, do you remember when Babcock was a “Mental Health Advocate”? What a fraud. When the cameras are rolling, he’s an advocate. When they’re not, he is a bully.
Mike Babcock is literally the definition of what mental health advocates advocate against.”
Back to the Red Wings; When retired Swedish power forward and ex-Wing, Johan Franzen, was interviewed by Expressen last year amidst the Marner controversy, his response was, “he’s a terrible person, the worst I’ve ever met.” According to the Swede, Babcock tormented him during the 2012 playoffs (something Chelios himself has backed up on the Spittin Chiclets podcast), “verbally assaulting” him at every turn, and with Franzen plunged into depression over having being constantly concussed, no less.
Though much of this is alleged, you can’t help but hear Murphy’s Law scream from the corner. One player talking trash about the Canadian ex-coach (who applied for a job with the Washington Capitals not long ago, but got turned away) would’ve made murmurs. Two would’ve been bad.
But this?
Some of you might say, “You’re giving the guy attention with articles like these, and that might be what he likes.” Fair enough, but highlighting his wrongs trumps that.
And the only thing worse than being hailed a douche is doubling down with the hand washing.
Most of us don’t know this guy. He may be a good man in some ways, and horrible in others.
If anything — and hold your breath — we should be thankful for The Mike Babcock Story. We should appreciate the guy’s epic successes and his worst failures, and not because we support the bullying he may very well have perpetuated upon guys like Mr. Franzen and Mr. Commodore, but because it gave us a front-row look at how not to be. Of how easy it is to slip from genius to wickedness.
Of how not to apologize.
Of how not to own up to your actions.
And just as the Leafs will learn to love this drought once the spoils of victory are had, so may we, in time, learn to thank Mike Babock for not just teaching us what to do on the ice, but also, what not to do off of it.