The plug's pulled on these Penguins, and they really hate it

ELMONT, N.Y. -- It was over.

"Really, really over," as Marcus Pettersson would tell me. "It's almost hard to accept."

Almost. But it was, the Penguins' star-crossed 2023-24 NHL season having come to a crashing halt by a wholly hollow 5-4 loss to the Islanders on this Wednesday night at UBS Arena. Though it'd actually come the previous night upon being eliminated from Stanley Cup playoff contention by other games occurring elsewhere, making for a dead-man-walking final 24 hours for the entire entourage.

Out of their control, all of it. Just like, now in hindsight, the countless points left unclaimed from Buffalo to Boston, Toronto to Tempe, Columbus to ... ugh, Calgary. 

I didn't come here, across town from the Pirates-Mets series I'd been covering, to pen the Penguins' obit, I swear. I'd already done that, after all, in Newark a full freaking month ago, writing that "this crap, candidly, can't conclude soon enough."

Crap, I called it. Because crap's what it was.

From Ottawa a few days earlier, I called into question for the first time Sidney Crosby's focus on the team task at hand, as he'd appeared to be clinging to his justifiable anger over the Jake Guentzel trade a little too long. And I called into question for the first time Evgeni Malkin's ability to keep up athletically. And while I was at it, I called into question for the first time Mike Sullivan's job status. 

These were excruciating columns to publish. These are people I respect, admire and, above all, have come to know over a significant portion of our mutual lives.

And then ...

Look, I don't know who or what triggered what transpired next. None of them do, and every last one of them will attest to that. But whatever it was, beginning with, of all things, blowing a four-goal lead in Denver to pick up the ugliest possible point through an overtime loss to the Avalanche, this group got it together to go 8-2-3 for the NHL's best record, to score 54 goals to also lead the league in that category, and to play precisely the caliber of late-season hockey that can lead to ... oh, you know, all that fun the Panthers were having after poking their heads into the playoffs a year ago.

So no, I didn't come here to bury the Penguins. I came to talk. Which I did, after this game, with the five people in this environment I've learned to trust more in good times and bad:

MARCUS PETTERSSON

The roster's most improved player, the roster's most consistent player this side of Sid, he also matured as a voice of reason in the locker room, even as he remained humble enough to keep learning from his elders, especially Erik Karlsson with an aim of being more dynamic.

I knew he'd take all this too hard to get all philosophical on what went wrong/right.

“It's a very empty feeling right now," he'd tell me. "Because we really found something in the last few weeks. It sucks that we had stretches where we wouldn't play well, and I know it's easy to look back and see those spots where we could've picked up a point or two. But we had a really good group in here. A tight-knit group. I mean, a lot of people who've won before and who know what it takes and stuff like that."

He glanced across to Lars Eller, who, like him, were among the handful still lingering in the room, as if they didn't want to leave.

"So, yeah," he'd wrap up, "empty feeling right now.”

LARS ELLER

I'm not going to describe him as having tears welling in his eyes as we spoke, but I'm also not going to say he didn't.

That's Eller. He was, at times, more of a leader than anyone -- yes, anyone -- in this operation, occasionally sounding like the only one who could see that this late-season hockey had been available to this team throughout. If only they'd be all-in, both systematically and with each other. Oh, he'd go at the effort once in a while but, to him, it was more about just gelling. And coming from the guy who was assigned more wingers than some centers see in a lifetime, that was saying something.

“It’s gonna hurt for a while, probably," he'd begin. "You know, until there’s no more hockey being played this summer."

A look down, then a look straight ahead.

"I believe a lot in this team because I saw how good we were capable of playing when we were at our best and the way we played when we were at our best."

Then a look up at me, standing in front of his stall, presumably to gauge how I'd process this next part. He does that a lot.

"We're so good. Did you see that? Did you see what we were doing?" I nodded. There's no one who didn't see it. The Rangers, the NHL's No. 1 team, saw it. As did the Lightning. And the Capitals and Red Wings, the two teams they'd take to the wire. "We'd outshoot teams. We could score in bunches ... you know, the right way, around the paint."

Another pause. I seized upon that to ask the smartest man in any room what, if anything, this final month should mean toward the franchise's immediate future.

A longer pause followed. He does that a lot, too.

"It's hard to accept that we are where we are today," came the measured reply. "Once the dust settles, I'll start to look forward to next year and take another crack at it. That's where it's at right now.”

BRYAN RUST

Rust's the literal model that the Penguins' developmental coaches utilize to teach prospects "what it means to be a Pittsburgh Penguin." Ask any teenager in the system, anywhere in the world, and they're able to talk about Rust's style, his remarkable adaptability to new micro-talents toward becoming more and more of a complete offensive player each year, even he's never let go of his roots along the way. And in this season, he was placed back on the penalty-kill, a role in which his coaches consider him to be 'elite' within the NHL, while also popping his now-standard 28 goals and just as many assists.

He was way back in the far corner of the room by himself, behind about a dozen reporters interviewing nearby Jeff Carter after his retirement announcement. I stepped over one bag, then another, to get to him because he'll always make it worthwhile.

I asked him, too, what, if anything, this final month should mean toward the franchise's immediate future.

“It's hard to say," he'd reply, "but it's hard to vote against that now, right? With how this last month went?"

I didn't disagree. So many varying circumstances will have so many of these main players back next season that, in all candor, Kyle Dubas couldn't create much change if he'd want to. And if he can take that further and continue to incorporate youth, as started happening in March with the steadier usage of Valtteri Puustinen, the arrival of Jack St. Ivany, the partner role for Ryan Shea, and Dubas can blend that with whatever this just was ...

Well, back to Rust, who took a similar stance to those of Pettersson and Eller.

"What I think's the most frustrating part is that we played so well and beat a hell of a lot of really good teams and ... it makes it almost worse, kind of looking back at it initially. First thoughts, obviously. There'll  be more time to think about it and dissect it. But overall, it's a huge, huge bummer, as you see."

The room, he meant.

"Over this last month you see all the good things we did and how, when we did do the right things, we beat a lot of really good teams and went on a run. But the fact that we just didn't do it enough this year and now we're on the outside ... I think it sucks. It just sucks.”

SIDNEY CROSBY

Can I skip all the Sid superlatives? Just this once?

Cool, so here's what I asked about what this final month might mean, and how he answered: