Hockey Confidential (25 page)

P.K. is a force of nature who just can't help being P.K. He's precocious, on and off the ice. Karl said P.K.'s power skating coach, Cam Brothers, once said of him, “P.K. is a lightning rod of controversy.”

“I think P.K. was eight years old when Cam said that,” cracked Karl. “Eight.”

Karl laughed some more at that. “P.K. is P.K.”

When P.K. was young, between five and seven years old, he was something of a minor hockey phenom. He could skate like an eight-year-old. Other players and parents would marvel at how a kid that age could shoot a puck into the top of the net from so far out. He played with the elite kids all the way up—Steven Stamkos, amongst others—but by the time it was his OHL draft year, he was no better than a sixth-round pick by the Belleville Bulls. Yet he surprisingly made the Bulls as a 16-year-old, playing on their power play and on the top shutdown pairing—as a rookie. Still, as talented as he was as he entered the OHL, two years later, he was not a first-round NHL draft pick, going 43rd overall to Montreal in the second round in 2007. Six years later, he collected the Norris Trophy as the NHL's top defenceman.

“I remember P.K. sitting in front of the computer [for the OHL draft] and all those kids being taken ahead of him, not going until [the sixth round],” Karl said. “That's an emotionally charged situation. P.K. used it the right way. He's still using it.”

By comparison, though, P.K.'s route to the NHL was paved with gold compared to what the more introverted middle brother, Malcolm, experienced on his path to pro hockey. Miraculously, Malcolm didn't start playing goal until he was 12, in major peewee. “Malcolm was the best skater of any of us,” P.K. said. “But he wasn't a real hard-nosed physical guy. But as a skater and athlete, he's incredible. He's competitive in a different way. He just hates to be scored on.”

By the time Malcolm was 15 and in his OHL draft year, with only four years' experience as a goalie, he had to wait until the 11th round to hear his name called—as fate would have it, by the same Belleville Bulls. Malcolm played midget hockey as a 16-year-old—not unusual for a goalie prospect—but even when he was 17, Belleville Bulls general manager and head coach George Burnett said, the plan was to put him in Junior A for another year because Belleville had a few other goalies ahead of him on their depth chart.

“But he came in as a 17-year-old and he outplayed the others and we made trades to make room for him,” Burnett said. “He wouldn't give up the net. He made us play him—he was that good.”

So good, in fact, that the Boston Bruins took him 24th overall in the 2012 draft, 19 picks higher than P.K. went to Montreal.

Jordan, meanwhile, was another story entirely. Throughout his minor hockey career, the smallish defenceman, who may actually be able to outskate P.K.—and that's saying something—was always one of the best kids, playing on the best teams. In Jordan's draft year, 2011, Burnett completed the Subban trifecta in Belleville by drafting him fifth overall.

“If his name was Smith, not Subban, we would have taken him there,” Burnett said. “We didn't take him because he was P.K.'s and Malcolm's little brother. We took him because he's a dynamic, skilled player. In his first two years in our league, Jordan outscored P.K. in P.K.'s first two years here. He's an outstanding player and athlete. He just hasn't grown to be the size of P.K.”

And yet, largely because Jordan was five foot nine and 175 pounds, he wasn't taken by the Vancouver Canucks until the fourth round of the 2013 NHL draft. The scouts would tell you Jordan is the longest shot of the three Subban boys to be an NHLer, fighting a decidedly uphill battle to make it because of his size.

“Let me tell you, Jordan's GPS is loaded,” P.K. said of his little brother, stealing his dad's analogy. “The best thing that could've happened to him is people telling him he's not going to make it, that he's too small. That's all he needed to hear.”

There was a telling, and poignant, moment at the 2013 draft when the three Subban boys were all together, preparing to go on TSN's live broadcast of the draft, not long after the Canucks had ended Jordan's agonizing wait by drafting him. During a commercial break, the Subban boys were just getting into place alongside host James Duthie when Jordan, in his Canuck jersey and hat, suddenly burst into tears. He buried his face into his hands. He was immediately comforted by his two brothers. He wiped away the tears just before the interview began. An observer watching this all unfold wondered to himself whether Jordan was crying tears of joy, relieved at being drafted, or showing a raw, emotional reaction—upset at not being taken until the fourth round.

“People don't understand how emotionally charged the draft is,” Karl said. “Yes, Jordan cried. Malcolm cried, too, after he was drafted and he went in the first round. P.K. didn't cry, but . . . [he wasn't happy going in the second round]. Honestly, if you're a kid sitting there, whether it's the first round or the last round, you just want to hear your name called. That's it. It's a difficult time as a parent when you're waiting. You want to say the right things to them; it's difficult because there's nothing you can say. They only want to hear their name.”

As important as his kids' hockey is, Karl Subban, ever the teacher, is always looking for that moment where there's a life lesson to be learned. And as Jordan waited to be drafted, along came a moment—for Karl, anyway—that transcended the entire draft and hockey.

Max Domi, the son of former NHLer Tie and a longtime friend of Jordan's—as well as a teammate and opponent in minor hockey—had already been selected much earlier, in the first round, by the Phoenix Coyotes. But immediately after Max had finished with his media obligations and met the Phoenix management, Max came up into the seats and sat alongside his pal Jordan for moral support. Finally, the Canucks took Jordan in the fourth round, and relief washed all over the Subbans.

“That was such a grown-up thing for a kid like Max to do,” Karl said. “Imagine that. It was Max's day. He went in the first round. But he thought of Jordan and came to be with him. Parents are always trying to teach their kids the right values, you want them to be humble and thankful and considerate and to give back to others who need help and support. What Max did there . . . what a great example for Jordan and my boys to see it. So, yes, Jordan cried . . . there was a lot of emotion there.”

While there were no words Karl or Maria could say to Jordan as he waited to hear his name called, the father/teacher/trainer most certainly had some perspective for Jordan after the fact.

“I've been around hockey a long time, and one of the things that is hard to see is someone's potential, even for the best scouts in the world,” Karl Subban said. “You can't tell Jordan he's not going to make the NHL. Just don't even bother, because he's not having it. We don't get too caught up in what other people see in our children. Jordan believes in himself. There's lot there for him to improve upon. Size is his prize, but he has a desire to achieve and be successful. He has lots of fire in him.

“It's not really any different for P.K. or Malcolm. You have to listen to what people say, you have to be open to ideas and opinions. I try to be objective about my children. But if people say P.K. can't play defence, if P.K. believes that, those people will be right. Your kids are always going to get criticized by someone. That's part of the game. People say all sorts of things about P.K.—who he is, making judgments on what kind of person he is, making a diagnosis from afar when they don't even really know him. If they were all doctors, they'd be charged with malpractice.” He laughs.

“I've always believed that before you become a master mechanic, you have to be an apprentice, so you can't get too hung up on labels. Experts are wrong a lot of the time. Scouts are wrong a lot of the time. Scouting is a fascinating thing. It's a very difficult job. I have nothing but respect for the scouts who work so hard at it. But Malcolm was an 11th-round pick into the OHL, a first-rounder in the NHL. P.K. was a sixth-round pick in the OHL, a second-rounder in the NHL. P.K. won a Norris Trophy. So, good or bad, don't get too hung up on labels or what other people say about you. Yesterday's achievement is yesterday's glory. You can't tell Jordan he won't make it to the NHL. Who knows, maybe he only gets as far as the AHL, but he's on his path and journey and what he does will determine how far he goes, not what round he was drafted in or whether someone thinks he's too small.”

No one in the Subban family worries too much about Jordan. His brothers and parents know him better than those who size him up, and what they know is that he's the most competitive member of the entire family, that it's a mistake to underestimate the youngest Subban boy, the smallest Subban boy.

“Put it this way,” P.K. said. “If there are six slices of pizza and our family of seven is sitting around the table, Jordan can't tell you the one person who won't get a slice, but he can tell you the one who
will
get one. It's Jordan. Every time . . . people look at Jordan's size and they don't get him. Honestly, he can squat more [weight] than me, he lifts more than me—not in the bench press, but in everything else. He sprints better than me, he has a fire in him like you can't believe. He wants [to make it to the NHL] more than me and Malcolm, and believe me, me and Malcolm really want it. But Jordan is on another level.”

As similar as his boys are, Karl knows there is much that is different about them. Not that there are many days when all three are in the house at the same time anymore, but if they are, Dad can pretty much predict what they'll be doing.

P.K., Karl said, will be watching video of his games. In the summer, he reviews every game from the previous NHL season—the good, the bad, the ugly—and breaks it all down. If not a game tape, then Don Cherry's
Rock'em Sock'em
videos. P.K. can never get enough hockey.

Malcolm, the most introspective of the three, might be likely to go off on his own, teaching himself how to play guitar or chilling and playing a video game—maybe Call of Duty. P.K. said he didn't even know Malcolm could play the guitar until, to P.K.'s surprise, he heard him playing and singing a song.

Jordan is the outgoing imp of the bunch, the one who'll grab his mom's laundry basket, turn it on its end to make it into a goal in the hallway, use a rolled-up sock as a puck and anything he can get his hands on as a stick and play his own version of floor hockey, all the while calling play-by-play. Karl is convinced Jordan has the best hockey hands of the bunch, in large part of because of his extensive mini-stick prowess, which he's taken to another level as a shootout specialist with the OHL Bulls. When he was very young, Jordan would have the whole family laughing hysterically at his preoccupation with mimicking an NHL referee, including blowing a shrill whistle, sliding across the kitchen floor and calling penalties on the rest of the family.

Getting three boys to the NHL would be a grand achievement for any family. Karl Subban would never minimize that; he well knows the odds of putting one son in the NHL, never mind three. But he's probably more gratified at what his kids have learned on their journey to pro hockey than the achievement of just being there. In other words, whatever niche the three Subban boys carve for themselves in the professional hockey world, having all three influenced and mentored by Bulls GM and head coach Burnett is the real payoff for Mom and Dad.

“Maria and I couldn't have scripted it any better,” Karl said. “The hockey's the hockey, but when you send three boys away from home at 16 or 17, you're putting them in someone's hands. It better be the right person. We're so fortunate to have had George Burnett look after our boys. George had such a big impact on P.K. that P.K. has started to sound like George—”

(Interruption: this is very funny if you know P.K. and you know George. In terms of personality, style and approach, they are at opposite ends of the spectrum from each other. Two people simply could not be more different. Okay, back to Karl's observations).

“—now Jordan is sounding like George. George taught P.K. how to dress, how to be a professional person. He has taught all three boys so much about being professional people, not just professional hockey players. George is a teacher by trade. There should be a George in every school, because he knows how to develop people, not just hockey players.”

“George is a tough-ass, no-nonsense, old-school guy,” P.K. said. “I remember my first OHL game, I was taking my suit off and George saw me and said, ‘What are you doing?' I told him, ‘I'm hanging up my pants.' He told me, ‘That's not how you hang up pants.' He showed me how to match the creases, fold them neatly over the hanger. He taught me everything about being a professional. He's a parent, he's a teacher. He still calls me, we still talk and he still intimidates me.”

Burnett, meanwhile, who played for the London Knights in the OHL in the late 1970s and early 1980s and who coached professionally in the NHL and AHL with Edmonton and Anaheim, probably knows the Subban family better than most anyone in the hockey community. He is uniquely qualified to offer an assessment.

“It's an extraordinary family,” Burnett said. “Everyone always talks about the three boys, but Karl and Maria have two daughters, and they are as big a part of their daughters' lives and fully committed to the girls as any of the boys. As a family, they have made enormous sacrifices for their children. They've done everything to support their children, given them everything, and I'm sure it wasn't easy.

“There haven't been many games here in Belleville or anywhere else where you don't see Karl and Maria. When you consider the time and energy both of them have spent to work their jobs, to support their family . . . for Karl to spend all those years in the challenging job he had—it's incredible, really. They've been very kind to us as an organization, trusted us to look after their children. Outside of making sure their kids were set up in school or their billet family, there's never been any interference or involvement on the hockey side of things. You couldn't get a better set of parents to deal with. And they've instilled in all their kids great family values. They're respectful, they're care about other people, and they do a tremendous amount of charity and community work. They are all high achievers.”