Bullies no more: Flyers goon-free

One day into Craig Berube's minor-league hockey career, John Paddock sat him down for the kind of cold-truth conversation that a coach sometimes has to have with a player on the margin.

This was the fall of 1986, and Berube had been a point-per-game forward the previous two years in major juniors, a 6-foot, 205-pound left winger who was beginning to learn that he didn't have the requisite speed and skill to be the same kind of scorer for the Hershey Bears, then the Flyers' affiliate in the American Hockey League - let alone in the NHL.

"I was in between, thinking I could play a little bit, not knowing what I was going to do," Berube, now the Flyers head coach, said in an interview last week.

So Paddock called Berube into his office, closed the door, and, in Berube's words, "led me a little bit in one direction, and I started to find my role." It was a role that Berube, by all appearances, embraced. He piled up 325 penalty minutes in 63 games that season in Hershey, a prelude to his 17 years as one of the NHL's most intimidating enforcers. Always, when gloves needed to be shed and punches needed to be thrown, Berube would oblige. It was the role that gave him a life at hockey's highest level, and it is the role that, in his and Flyers general manager Ron Hextall's minds, a club no longer requires.

The Flyers open their regular season Wednesday night in Boston against the Bruins, and for the first time in their history, there won't be a player on their roster whose primary responsibility is to fight.

The sport's global talent pool and the rules changes that the NHL implemented after the 2004-05 lockout have sped up the pace of play, placing a greater value on players who do more than just fire their fists. More, the salary cap has made keeping an enforcer a luxury many teams can't afford - the Flyers among them - and besides, the increase in the knowledge of, and attention paid to, head injuries has stigmatized fighting itself.

The average number of fights per game has fallen 36.7 percent since 2009, according to hockeyfights.com, an online database that tracks fighting majors throughout hockey, and maybe it took a head coach who was once the Flyers' leading heavyweight to understand that it was long past time for a more progressive way of building a team.

"It's just getting beyond it," Berube said. "I still think it is part of the game at the right time. I don't like staged fighting. I never did. I didn't even like it when I did it back in the day. I liked the emotional part of the game, and when you play hockey and it's physical and guys are battling and you get [ticked] off and you fight - I like that. I don't mind that. I think it's good for the game. Fights have been used to change the momentum of the game, and I still think it has its place a little bit for that. But that's it."

Among Wayne Simmonds, Zac Rinaldo, and even Luke Schenn, the Flyers have enough players who can hold their own in any tussle that might develop organically during a game. But the notion that the franchise should be clinging to its Broad Street Bullies image more than 39 years since it last won the Stanley Cup is silly.

The Flyers' last big brawl, precipitated by goaltender Ray Emery during a 7-0 loss to the Capitals in November, brought them nothing but embarrassment and ridicule - and rightfully so.

In 1974 and 1975, the Flyers' use of fighting to intimidate their opponents was an innovation that gave them a genuine advantage over opponents. In 2014, the Flyers' decision last week to waive Jay Rosehill, who had three goals and 154 penalty minutes in 45 games with them, is nothing more than an acknowledgment that they can't waste a roster spot on someone so limited.

If you're looking for a reason to worry about the Flyers this season, don't bother with Rosehill's absence. Look at a group of defensemen who, until Shayne Gostisbehere and the organization's other prospects are ready, collectively will struggle with any of the quick, puck-moving systems that the league's elite teams manage with ease. Though he's entering his first full season as an NHL head coach, Berube has been observing the sport's evolution long enough to recognize this reality, and he bristled at the suggestion that, because of his background, he might be too sympathetic to what's regarded now as an antiquated, almost primitive style of play.

"I know people say, 'This guy is a goon and a meathead' because you fight, but what people don't understand is that, back then, that was part of the game, and that was my job on a team," he said. "Even though maybe it bothered me and I didn't want to do it, you've got to do it if you want to be part of the team. So I did it, to earn a living, to help my team win.

"It's a pretty tough job, OK? I'm going to tell you right now it's not much fun. But it doesn't mean I didn't know the game."

He punctuated his answer with a glare that, a generation ago, would have meant he was ready once more to step over to his sport's dark side, to drop his gloves and dare someone to muster the courage to cross him. But those days are gone, for him and most of the NHL and maybe the Flyers now, too.

Craig Berube probably couldn't have played this kind of hockey, but he's more than happy to coach it, and sometimes a man who made a career out of doing things the old way can see clearer than anyone that something has to change.

@MikeSielski