It’s been a full week since the trade that sent Kevin Bieksa to the Anaheim Ducks in exchange for their second-round selection in the 2016 draft. For all the noise in the build up to this trade, things have been decidedly silent since. I guess that was to be expected, given that nobody was surprised when the other shoe finally dropped. 

By that same token, it seems almost a little inappropriate. Say what you will about Bieksa’s final two or three seasons in Vancouver, the guy was a warrior for this franchise on and off the ice. While the body of work is seemingly endless, more prominent and accessible examples for both these qualities can be summed up in the series-clinching goal in 2011 which sent Vancouver to it’s third Stanley Cup or his invaluable work promoting mental health awareness with Mind Check. 

His body of work spanned roughly 10 seasons and saw the heart-and-soul defender suit up in 597-games for the Canucks, good for sixth-most among defenders in franchise history. What kind of legacy will the once beloved defender leave behind? Meet me on the other side of the jump to find out.

Bieksa has long been a favourite of mine. This, of course, has driven those closest to me to run a stream of endless plaudits on his immeasurable qualities to prop up his play as though he’s some statistical slouch – the irony of course being that little ol’ stats guy, J.D. Burke, is a big fan of gritty, fight-y Kevin Bieksa, right. Of course, it’s not entirely unfair. Bieksa has long been at the forefront of this teams leadership group and always held himself and his teammates accountable to the media. On the ice, he’s always been a nasty bugger, never shying away from the fisticuffs when the opportunity presents itself – something his new teammate, Patrick Maroon, can attest to. 

With 43-fights over his 10-year span with the Canucks, it’s been one hell of a fight filled ride – one which included a staggering 879 PIM (good for fourth among Canucks defenders). That’s about a half-seasons work between Brandon Prust and Derek Dorsett, but for top of the lineup talent, those kind of numbers are a rarity. Depending on the premium you place on face punching (and I remain convinced that it’s a “skill” genuinely desired by NHL executives – even those not named Jim Benning) this is an added wrinkle becoming increasingly less common among players of this ability. 

To belittle Bieksa’s impact to this extent, though, almost seems a great injustice to what he accomplished as a player. With 241-points, Bieksa ranks sixth all-time among Canuck defenders. His 0.4 points per game put him in pretty solid company as well; for context, Matthias Ohlund (who is considered by some to be the best defender in Canucks history) sits at 0.42. Bieksa is also tied with Alex Edler for fourth in franchise history in point shares, with 47.5.

With the most cursory of glances we can comfortably say that Bieksa was one of the best defenders to grace this franchise. It wasn’t exactly the smoothest of rides, though. One can’t help but wonder to what extent limitations were made on Bieksa’s mark by the not one, but two severe leg lacerations in a three-season span between 2008 and 2010. The latter of these (in combination with a defense heavy acquisition period in the lead-up to the 2010-11 campaign) threatened to jeopardize Bieksa’s long-term future in Vancouver, as declining effectiveness and a crowded blue line made his future tenuous at best. 

And unsurprisingly, it’s the years that sandwiched this period which mark Bieksa’s best in Vancouver. The absolute best of which being a campaign one-year senior the latter bread piece, his 2011-12 season. I could list off the mile long list of statistical accolades which mark this season, or cop out with the career-high 44-points he posted. It seemed much more apt, though, to post his comparable players from that campaign. 

That’s some pretty amazing company to keep. Remember how good Alex Pietrangelo was last season? Well, Bieksa was better than that at a point in time. 

Unfortunately for Bieksa, it was the following season where his game began to unravel. As the season wore on he became increasingly less effective. I’ve heard it suggested that Bieksa sustained an abdominal injury that, were he younger, Bieksa would have had operated on. Feeling as though the team had one more kick at the can, Bieksa of course opted to play through it and avoided surgery altogether in the off-season. 

Since then Bieksa’s health has only deteriorated further, seeing him miss stretch upon stretch of play. Consequently, so too has his quality of play decreased. Age, injuries and usage bordering on cruel and unusual have turned this former top-pairing stud into a husk of his former self. It’s that last caveat though that gives me some hope for the fella that there might be a little something left in the tank; how many defenders would perform well attached to Luca Sbisa and Ryan Stanton for two seasons? 

There might be a year or two of top-four defending left in Bieksa, but it’s going to take masterful usage and just the right partner to accommodate it. I have to figure the Ducks can offer one of the two and he should see some sort of resurgence. For the meantime though, maybe take a minute to appreciate how well he played for Vancouver. It needs no qualifying with superfluous fluff like “great leader” and “heart-and-soul guy” – they’re a part of the equation, but only after discussing things that really matter and mean something. Of which there are plenty.

There are very few players that transcend the business like nature of professional sports and for a time I felt as though Bieksa might be among them; I still feel this way about both Sedins. For a player to be worthy of such distinction, they have to carry a certain gravitas away from the rink. For a player like Daniel or Henrik Sedin, their scoring titles are marks on a sheet of paper and a trophy. They represent an amazing era in Canucks history and bring back only the fondest of memories. That is not why even the sheer thought of trading either of these two is cringe-worthy, though.

The Sedins are known to contribute over $1-million each to the BC Children’s Hospital. Contributions like these enable health care professionals to have access to the tools and equipment necessary to save lives. I don’t care how much you like hockey, these contributions are a tangible reminder of their importance to this city. 

Similarly, Bieksa has proven to be of immense importance to the Canucks goodwill in his own way. He’s been a regular within the community from the instant he cracked this roster. Tragically enough, though, it took the passing of Kevin Bieksa’s best friend, Rick Rypien, to bring into the spotlight some of these merits away from the rink.

In the wake of this disaster, it was revealed that Rypien had long considered Bieksa a brother of his. His appearance as a pallbearer at Rypien’s funeral only further cementing the relationship those two developed. In the following season, Bieksa went well above and beyond to try and prevent tragedies like the one that befell his best friend and former teammate by spearheading a mental health initiative with the Vancouver Canucks, titled “Mind Check”.

One can only help but wonder how many lives have been positively impacted by his work to advocate for better mental health awareness within the hockey community and abroad. To showcase the raw humanity that drove so many enforcers – men often considered bulletproof – into this dark and unrelenting abyss brought to light to an otherwise ignored, or misunderstood, issue that can impact even those deemed the strongest among us. 

Twitter block-rampages and all, he was a damn good fella. And in a sport so bereft of personality, surely his interviews seemed like an oasis in a sea of 110%. 

I wasn’t overly surprised to see Kevin Bieksa leave. Nor was I overly disappointed. Covering the Canucks in any capacity – even from my mother’s basement as a blogger – requires a certain detachment that I just can’t shake. Objectively speaking, Bieksa didn’t have anything left in the tank to offer this franchise. It wasn’t a matter of Bieksa being unable to contribute. It became a question of “how much can Bieksa contribute to the long-term health of this franchise?” or “Is it worth the logjam at right defense and against the salary cap to have his level of contribution now?”. Neither answer was overwhelmingly in Bieksa’s favour.

For what seems like an all-too-brief period in time, though, Bieksa was nails. Probably given much less credit than he deserves, especially given that ridiculous “Hamhuis babysits him” narrative. In the context of great Canuck blue liners, I most certainly think there’s room for Bieksa to enter the discussion. You probably should, too.