Down Goes Brown's Grab Bag: Let's Talk Expansion Draft Rules and Those Lowly Stanley Cup Ratings

(Editor's note: Welcome to Sean McIndoe's grab bag, where he writes on a variety of NHL topics. You can follow him on Twitter.)

The third star: This guy who made a Stanley Cup out of beef and hot dogs—This time of year, the r/hockey subreddit is basically nothing but people making Stanley Cups out of weird things. But we'll award bonus points to this guy for getting a photo with a vaguely terrified Joel Quenneville.

The second star: Pittsburgh Pirates third baseman David Freese—According to this article, the St. Louis native (and former Cardinal) didn't appreciate his current teammates being ordered to wear Penguins gear this week. He asked if he could wear a Blues jersey instead and, according to manager Clint Hurdle, "got beat down." The article explains that a compromise was eventually reached. Tragically, that compromise did not involve Freese walking into the clubhouse wearing a David Volek jersey.

The first star: The L.A. Kings being confused by churros—I'll be honest, I don't know what they are either.

We tried to celebrate — #LAKings (@LAKings)June 6, 2016

The issue: With a Las Vegas decision inching closer, the league is firming up the rules for an expansion draft. That will apparently include forcing teams to protect players with no-movement clauses.

The outrage: That's going to put some teams at a disadvantage, leading to claims that the system won't be fair.

Is it justified: First, let's clarify what the rules will be, because there's been some confusion. Over the weekend, the New York Post reported that teams would be forced to protect any player with a no-movement clause, including those whose contracts were already expiring. That seemed odd. But after further digging by Yahoo, the league clarified that that wasn't the case after all. So that's one crisis averted.

Still, the rule appears to still apply to players whose contracts were ongoing. That makes sense for most guys—no movement means no movement, and that should apply to expansion drafts, too. But there's a catch: What about players like Ryane Clowe, Nathan Horton or Chris Pronger who are no longer active but technically still under contract—will their teams really be forced to burn a protection slot on a guy who's only active based on a technicality? Is that fair?

It's a legitimate question, but it overlooks something important: No-movement clauses can be waived. The player always has that option. It's why players with no-movement and no-trade clauses are moved all the time.

So imagine you're a player who's essentially retired, but still has an active contract. Are you really going to insist that your no-movement clause is honored here, knowing it's going to make you a villain with the team, its front office and its fans? You're really going to force another player—maybe a former teammate, or even a friend—into the expansion maelstrom instead? Of course not. You're going to call up the team, tell them you waive your clause for the expansion draft, and then head back to the golf course.

(And, by the way, there's a good chance that many of the Clarkson-type players will waive, too, if only for a shot at a fresh start. If you have to miss the playoffs every year, would you rather do it in Columbus or Las Vegas?)

As long as players can waive their no-movement clauses, there's nothing to see here. If the league starts messing with those rights, then yes, go ahead and complain. Until then, it's a non-story.

Last week, we marked the start of the Stanley Cup Final by choosing an obscure player who'd played for both the Penguins and the Sharks. With the series still going thanks to the Sharks' win Thursday night, let's go to that list one more time with this week's pick: Finnish winger Ville Nieminen.

Nieminen was the type of player who could be politely described as an agitator, in the sense that his main role was making other players really want to punch him in the face. A third-round pick by the Avalance in the 1997 draft, he made his NHL debut with a single game early in 2000 before earning a full-time roster spot the following season, helping the Avs win their second Stanley Cup in 2001. His time in Colorado ended the following year when he was dealt to the Penguins as part of a trade for Darius Kasparaitis, which is odd because nobody has any recollection of Darius Kasparaitis playing for Colorado.

That change of scenery was the first of many for Nieminen; in an NHL career that spanned just six full seasons, he managed to play for a remarkable seven different teams. One season in Pittsburgh was followed by stints with the Blackhawks, Flames and Rangers, before he was sent to the Sharks at the 2006 deadline. One year later he was on the move again, going to St. Louis as part of a trade for Bill Guerin, which is odd because nobody has any recollection of Bill Guerin playing for San Jose. Seriously, what is it with Ville Nieminen trades? The guy's nickname should have been The Neuralyzer.

Fourteen games into his stint with the Blues, Nieminen's NHL career was over, although he continued to play in Europe before retiring last summer. He ended up playing just 385 NHL games, but won a Cup, fell one game short of winning another with the Flames, and played in two Olympics, winning silver in 2006.

People still wanted to punch him in the face, though. Can't imagine why.

The ratings are in for the Stanley Cup final, and to nobody's surprise, they're bad. The NHL's marquee event is losing out to regular-season baseball, and got absolutely crushed by the NBA conference finals. It's the latest bad news in a postseason that's seen poor numbers on both sides of the border.

And unless you're a TV executive, your reaction is probably a shrug. It's just how it is in the NHL, right? These days, hockey's ratings are driven by individual markets, so between a lack of Canadian teams in the playoffs and two medium-size markets facing of in the final, the deck was stacked. Besides, hockey will always be a niche sport in the US. So, sure, the ratings are awful, but honestly, what did you really expect?

Here's a thought: We should expect hockey fans to have higher expectations.

The NHL's lagging popularity, especially south of the border, has been a punchline for so long that fans have become numb to it. When this year's ratings came out, nobody seemed to bat an eye. We even got plenty of preemptive scoldings, reminding us how unreasonable it would be to expect anyone to actually want to watch what should be the best hockey the league has to offer.

But why? Hockey is a great sport, and it's never been played at a higher level than it is right now. Players are bigger, faster and more skilled than ever before, and it's not close. And some of the league's biggest stars are in their prime, right now.

And yet, the NHL product is being overwhelmingly rejected by the sports world. That's not OK. And it's not some inevitable outcome that nobody can do anything about. It's a failure. And it's a failure that stretches league wide, from Gary Bettman on down.

Sure, revenue is up (because revenue for every sport is up), and maybe you figure that's good enough. The diehards will always watch, because we appreciate the game on a level that most never could. And hockey can still grab a town by the throat like nothing else—just look at the madness in Pittsburgh on Thursday night.

But the public at large is sending an unmistakable message to the NHL: Your product isn't good enough, and not many of us are interested in watching it.

Will Bettman and friends act on that message? History tells us not to get our hopes up. Reacting to things isn't exactly a strong suit for this bunch. Other North American leagues have seen their popularity surge largely thanks to their offensive stars. Meanwhile, the NHL is two decades into the Dead Puck Era, one in which the best collection of players to ever lace up skates spend every game playing strict defensive systems, blocking shots and shooting pucks into the chests of massive goalies who barely move. Peyton Manning had one bad playoff game and the NFL immediately reworked its rulebook to make sure its biggest stars could shine. The NHL has spent 20 years watching scoring, excitement and fan interest fade, and all it can ever do is tinker and tweak.

Star power? The NBA gets excellent ratings for its final even though the games have been awful, thanks to the presence of LeBron James and Steph Curry. This year's Stanley Cup final features plenty of stars of its own, including the league's very biggest. But mention Sidney Crosby to any hockey fan outside of Pittsburgh, and you're just as likely to get an eye roll and some comment about him being a whiner or a diver. That's partly because hockey fans can be awful. But it's mostly because, in a sports landscape where individual stars dominate, the NHL has no clue how to market them.

The teams themselves? Other leagues reap the rewards of dynasties and record-shattering team performances. The NHL drones on endlessly about parity and competitive balance, as if the relentlessly increasing role of luck over skill is somehow something to brag about.

To be clear, nobody thinks the NHL will ever pass the NFL, NBA or MLB in popularity, and that shouldn't be the goal. But that doesn't mean we throw in the towel and just accept the game's status as second (or third, or fourth) class citizens of the sporting world. And it doesn't mean we accept that the league is destined to continue putting out a product that so few want to watch. Twenty years of failure can start to fade into background noise, but it's still failure.

The game's never been better, Bettman constantly tells us, and the NHL product is doing just fine. "No it's not," answers the sports world, before flipping the channel to something else.

And hockey fans just sit back and accept it, because two decades have taught us not to bother expecting anything more.

Well, that was a depressing rant. Who's up for some YouTube jokes?

The Penguins went into Game 5 looking to hoist the Stanley Cup on home ice for the first time in franchise history. It didn't happen. So today, let's cheer up their fans with thoughts of happier times—their first-ever championship, one they earned 25 years ago.

• It's May 25, 1991, and the Penguins are in Minnesota to face the North Stars in Game 6 of the final. It's been an inspiring Cinderella run for Minnesota, one that's seen it beat the Presidents' Trophy winner, the Presidents' Trophy runner-up and the defending champs, not to mention taking a 2-1 lead in the series. But things have turned, with the Penguins winning Game 4 and 5 while pumping home a total of 11 goals. Or, as the North Stars are about to call those games, "the good old days."

• A quick reminder that's it's 1991 and defense hasn't been invented yet. You probably don't need me to tell you that after watching defensive defenseman Mark Tinordi take the opening faceoff and deke through four Penguins to get the game's first scoring chance.

• Why, yes, this is Bob Cole on the call. Don't say I never gave you anything nice.

• An underrated jarring moment when watching any game from this era: Remembering that they could hold faceoffs anywhere in the offensive zone, not just on the dots. I really miss that, and I don't know why. The league should bring that back for one game every year, but not tell anyone in advance. How many plans would immediately cancel if someone frantically texted you that it was random faceoff night in the NHL? All of them, that's how many.

• The Penguins win the draw and get the opening goal on a long point shot from Ulf Samuelsson. That's a tough one for the North Stars, but I'm sure they'll be fine as long as the Penguins don't have any players with more offensive skill than Ulf Samuelsson.

• Next up is my favorite highlight from the entire clip. The puck is sitting harmlessly in the Penguins' zone when Larry Murphy picks it up and causally fires a 100-foot bounce pass off the boards and right onto the stick of Mario Lemieux, springing him for a breakaway. Cole doesn't even bother to pretend like there's any chance Mario isn't scoring here, basically starting his "Watch him now, look at him now" goal call while he's still at the faceoff circle. Playoff Mario Lemieux converted breakaways the way Steph Curry converts free throws.

• Poor Jon Casey. This is the second time in a month that we've featured him getting destroyed by a first ballot Hall of Famer. Sorry, Jon.

• Joey Mullen scores on a powerplay to make it 3-0. Confession: A while ago I made reference to John Cullen's white neck guard and a bunch of Penguins fans told me I was mixing him up with Joe Mullen, which was ridiculous because questioning me about the NHL in 1991 is like questioning Einstein about whatever it is that Einstein knew a lot about. But I see now that they were half right—Mullen wore one, too. Sorry about all the mean things I said out loud about your family members when I read your tweets, Pens fans.

• Lemieux and Jaromir Jagr combine to get the puck into the crease, and Bob Errey mashes all the buttons on his controller until it goes in. Casey's been replaced by Brian Hayward, by the way. For now.

• Here's Hayward's thought process on the next goal. "Oh no, here comes Ron Francis on a breakaway. He's going to shoot. Should I react in any way? Oh right, it's 1991 and goalies don't do that yet, so I'll just stand completely still and hope it hits me. Nope, he scores. Ah well, at least this play can't get any worse. [late-arriving defenseman wipes him out] I hate my job."

• (Sliding into your DMs like…)

• Next up is a giveaway by NHLPA '93 legend Shawn Chambers, which springs Mullen all alone. Guys, I don't think the North Stars' "keep giving up breakaways to future Hall of Famers" strategy is working.

• Early in the third period, the North Stars have a little pressure when their defenseman's stick explodes. "That was kind of neat," think hockey fans, "I sure hope that someday we develop technology that lets that happen 30 times a game."

• Lemieux heads up ice with the puck, and if you watch #23 Brian Bellows you can actually pinpoint the exact moment that his will to live exits his body. Mario sets up rookie defenseman (and first ever Korean-born NHLer) Jim Paek, and it's 7-0.

• Fun fact: At this point, the North Stars yanked Hayward and put Casey back in. The rare double goalie pull! I really think this move is going to turn this game around.

• Nope. Casey gives it away to Lemieux, who feeds Murphy, and it's 8-0. Mercifully, that would be the final. Lemieux finished with a goal and three assists, giving him 44 points in 23 playoff games, the second most ever. He was good.

• We get a brief look at the Pens' Cup celebration. We all love the traditional Bettman-era sight of the captain receiving the Cup and parading it around before handing it off to a specially selected teammate, but part of me kind of misses the old-school method where the captain just grabbed it and his teammates chased him around like a flock of ducks chasing a toddler trying to eat popcorn.

• Here's the crazy thing about the 1990-91 Penguins, who were stacked with Hall-of-Famers (we haven't even mentioned Paul Coffey or Brian Trottier yet) and would occasionally have games like this where they looked like the Harlem Globetrotters: They finished the regular season with 88 points. The next year, they repeated as Cup champs and had 87 points. They didn't have a dominant regular season until 1992-93, when they won the Presidents' Trophy with 119 points and then… well, you know.

• As for the North Stars, five days after this game was played, they were picking players in an expansion draft. The early 90s NHL were a mess.

• By the way, the expansion team that draft helped stock: The San Jose Sharks. Here's hoping they learned a few things from the North Stars. Here's hoping the game six game plan wasn't one of them.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at nhlgrabbag@gmail.com.