Why it matters that Elias Pettersson is finally pushing back

Way back in 2002, after watching his Canucks get bullied in the playoffs by the Detroit Red Wings of all people, Brian Burke dropped one of his most infamous pearls of wisdom — telling reporters that “Sedin is not Swedish for ‘punch me or headlock me in a scrum.’”

On Sunday night’s broadcast of Game One between the Canucks and Wild, Kevin Bieksa paid tribute to his former GM — all the while Burke looked on proudly from the bottom corner of the screen — by adapting his quote and applying it to Elias Pettersson, noting that “Pettersson is not Swedish for” a whole host of things, including crosschecks to the spine, late hits, and punches to the back of the head.

Bieksa’s not the only one seeing similarities between how Henrik and Daniel Sedin were disrespected throughout the bulk of their careers, to how Pettersson is being treated by the Wild right now. The key difference, however, is not in the treatment itself, but the way Pettersson is responding to it — and in the long-term — that’s perhaps as important as anything else going on in the series right now.

In Game One, Pettersson performed an admirable job of fighting through the abuse, taking a bevy of punishment with few complaints and still managing to generate a handful of scoring opportunities. It’s something that Vancouver fans got to watch the Sedin twins do for nearly two decades, and it’s an endeavour that is as inspiring as it is frustrating to witness.

But on Tuesday night’s Game Two, Pettersson did something that the Sedins almost never did throughout the course of their 17 seasons with the Canucks — he pushed back.

Right from the get-go, Pettersson made it clear that he was going to be playing a very different sort of game on Tuesday. He laid the body on the forecheck. He tussled with players as sizeable as Jordan Greenway in scrums. He even threw a hard hit along the endboards that rattled the famously non-rattleable Ryan Suter.

Then came the moment that everyone is talking about today. After being harassed by Ryan Hartman continuously through two games, Pettersson retaliated to a high-stick by shoving Hartman hard in the back — sending the much larger Wild forward sprawling to the ice and ultimately knocking him out of the game with an undisclosed injury.

Minnesota fans and media members are currently on Twitter demanding a suspension for Pettersson, which we can all agree is patently ridiculous. However, the fact that an opposing fanbase is calling for discipline against the Canucks’ Swedish superstar for playing too rough against their players makes one thing perfectly clear — this is a brand-new era of Canucks hockey.

Far be it from us to criticize the twins. Their gentlemanly style set a standard of class for the organization that will remain for generations to come, and Pettersson himself embodies that in many ways, how many times have we seen him call for assistance for a downed opponent?

But the Sedins also had a well-earned, nigh-Jesus-like reputation for turning the other cheek, and their enemies would sometimes take advantage of this to the point of distraction. Who could forget Brad Marchand using Daniel as a speedbag in 2011, or Dustin Brown using the Sedins as his own personal set of bowling pins?

For much of their careers, the Sedins weren’t willing to throw so much as a dirty look at their opponents. Compare that with Pettersson’s stone-cold stare as Hartman got scraped off the ice.

The difference is stark, and speaks volumes.

But, aside from it being a lot more satisfying to watch from your couch at home, what’s the benefit to Pettersson carving out his own reputation as a non-pushover? What does he, and the Canucks as a whole, get out of him pushing back?

Quite a bit, as it turns out.

At times, NHL players can get lost in the physical back-and-forth of the postseason, to the point that it prevents them from engaging in the sort of play that actually generates goals and victories. That was not at all the case for Pettersson. He and the rest of the Lotto Line put up perhaps their strongest performance of the season, and absolutely dominated the opposition whenever they were on the ice.

Clearly, the additional physical engagement did not take away from Pettersson’s ability to engage in the rest of the game — if anything, the constant engagement keyed him into the game more.

There’s also the ever-important element of creating space for oneself.

The word should be on the street by now — attempting to physically intimidate Pettersson is not a winning strategy. If Pettersson continues to respond to on-ice abuse with on-ice excellence, it won’t be long before coaches like Dean Evason tell their players to knock it off and just let Pettersson play his game. Contrast that with the Sedins, who went into every playoff game of their career knowing they were going to get hacked, whacked, and swatted every time they touched the puck, and targeted in each and every post-whistle scrum.

Certain players have always made their name as sleeping beasts that the opposing team would generally do better not to wake. The sort of player that it was actually better not to piss off, because they’d always respond by playing even harder and better.

Pavel Bure was one of those players. So was Eric Lindros. So was Peter Forsberg, an idol of Pettersson’s.

And, if he keeps this up, sooner or later Pettersson is going to develop that reputation for himself.

Obviously, a lessened interest in roughing up Pettersson benefits him and the Canucks in the long-run by ensuring a healthier career with less wear-and-tear.

But in the short-term, Pettersson’s willingness to push back is all about creating space for himself on the ice. So far, it seems to be working.

And we all know what Elias Pettersson can do when he gets more space on the ice.