Rejoice, one and all, for it is again that magical time of the week — known to the rest of the world as Wednesday, or more colloquially, “hump day” — to rifle through the archives of NHL history for some good old-fashioned nostalgic treasures. (You’ll have to click through to get the good stuff.)
The subject at hand today is Ducks goaltender Jean-Sebastien Giguere. You may remember him from less acclaimed roles in Halifax, Hartford and Calgary (Mooseheads and Whalers and Flames, oh my!). His curriculum vitae prior to joining the Ducks franchise is thin — so thin, in fact, that he had only a scant 30 NHL games to his name upon arrival in June 2000. The collection of his hockey cards I have to show you chronicle that half-decade before he donned the eggplant and jade.
Not much is typically mentioned about Giguere’s brief stints in Hartford and Calgary, except as a point of contrast to emphasize the effect Francois Allaire’s teachings have had on his game. Often credited with saving Giguere’s career, Allaire helped hone the young goalie’s skills, adding focus and purpose to his play. The changes in his style are underscored in reading the various scouting reports on the cards pictured below. Giguere’s glove hand and athleticism received the bulk of the accolades throughout his junior career, and now the very notion of athleticism being a core tenet of his game seems preposterous. Instead, Allaire has instilled in him equal measures of confidence and discipline, both key ingredients that helped Giguere transcend his stereotype and become an iconoclast of the traditional Quebec-born goaltender: he became a puck blocker. No flash, no dash, but plenty of results.
Often overlooked by the experts of the hockey world, Giguere’s style of play won him no fans around the league. Blocking the puck does not so much earn a place on the highlight reel as it earns scorn from those either unaware of the required skill to do it or those who dismiss it vis-a-vis an arbitrary scale meant to determine how spectacular a save must be to garner recognition as such. This is perhaps best evidenced by the burden of illegal pad accusations he bears, a phenomenon that seemingly has its roots in an offhand remark made by then-Dallas Stars forward (and notorious shit disturber) Claude Lemieux during the 2003 playoffs. If the remark was to be understood as a whisper of doubt, it eventually heightened to a near-deafening roar of contempt as fans and players alike were quick to draw comparisons to both the Michelin Man and the Stay Puft Marshmallow mascot from Ghostbusters.
What often escapes the scope of these inscrutable analyses is the set of rules the NHL has in place for regulating goaltending equipment. If the standards were too lax and negligent of legally ambiguous tactics (I’m looking at you, Garth Snow) before, then they have certainly become more stringent in both application and verification since the lockout. Giguere has gone on the record about being subjected to regular checks by league officials, but still he has been dogged by the accusations. Incidentally, the frequency with which these judgments are handed down seems to have an inverse correlation to the measure of his success on the ice.
Luckily, and thanks in large part to Allaire, Giguere has developed and displayed the necessary mental fortitude to withstand criticism and pressure (incidents with Ryan Smyth notwithstanding). His play on the ice has never been a reflection of the criticism received off of it. It is perhaps for that reason that it is surprising, though perfectly understandable, that his level of play declined so sharply last year surrounding the death of his father.
Right now, Giguere abides as the last bastion of the era of Mighty Ducks hockey (he is the only player remaining from the 2003 Cinderella squad)– but for how much longer? His days in Anaheim could be numbered, and so the prevailing wisdom mandates that we explore some of the qualities that endeared Giguere to Ducks fans before he departs. Today we go looking for insight from the (now dilapidated) hockey card universe, and examine a handful of cards that comprise the exiguous record of Giguere’s pre-Anaheim hockey career.
Note: Forgive the askew orientation of the cards and the sheen on some of them. Not having a scanner presents a unique set of challenges when digitizing items for archival purposes. Because the nature of their use was restricted to the blog, I decided not to be a perfectionist as long as the content on each card was legible.
FURTHER READING
