St. Louis Shows Why We’ve Been Getting the “Players’ Coach”

There’s a funny thing about hockey coaches. If they yell at everybody, they’re tough. If they’re quiet, they’re mysterious. And if they actually get along with their players, well, apparently they must be too soft. Having studied good leadership as part of my academic research, I’ve always been a little bothered by that last one.

The latest example is Martin St. Louis in Montreal. He’s been described as a “players’ coach” almost from the day he took over the Canadiens. And that label sometimes comes with a little baggage, as if being close to the players means the coach has somehow surrendered control of the room.

Derek Lalonde doesn't see it that way. And maybe that's worth listening to.

Being Close to Players Doesn't Mean Letting Them Run the Team.

Lalonde, who has joined St. Louis's staff in Montreal, has been an NHL head coach himself. He also worked under Jon Cooper in Tampa Bay. So this isn't some former player sitting around saying his buddy is a great guy. He's a coach talking about another coach.

And his point is pretty simple: St. Louis can have a relationship with his players and still be the person in charge. That's actually important. Somewhere along the way, hockey developed this idea that accountability has to look like somebody getting yelled at in front of the room. Maybe the coach has to slam a stick. Maybe somebody gets benched. Maybe the coach gives one of those old-fashioned press conferences where every answer sounds like it came from a guy who hasn't smiled since 1978.

But accountability doesn't necessarily require any of that. A coach can tell a player, “You're better than that,” without screaming it. In fact, players almost always hear it better that way.

Maybe the NHL Has Changed More Than We Realize.

This is where the St. Louis story gets interesting for me. The NHL isn't the same league it was when a coach's authority depended on keeping everybody a little scared. Players are younger, better informed and much more involved in understanding how they play the game. They're also much more likely to respond to a coach who explains why something needs to change rather than simply telling them to change it.

That doesn't mean the players get to run the room. It means the coach-player relationship has changed. Lalonde's description of St. Louis sounds less like a permissive coach and more like a modern one. St. Louis gives his players some freedom, but that freedom comes with responsibility. That's a pretty reasonable bargain.

And frankly, there's something else to consider. St. Louis played for a long time. He knows what it feels like to sit in that room. He knows the difference between a coach trying to help and one simply trying to demonstrate authority.

Maybe That’s Why St. Louis’ Approach Can Work.

Of course, none of this means St. Louis gets everything right. Coaches don't. The Canadiens will still lose games because of decisions he makes, and people will still question his line combinations, systems and choices. That's part of the job.

But perhaps the bigger lesson is that being a player's coach isn't the same thing as being a player's pushover. Lalonde seems to understand that. There can be plenty of trust in a coach-player relationship without giving up accountability. In fact, the two might work better together than hockey has traditionally given them credit for.