Professor’s Cup of Coffee: Morning Thoughts About Maple Leafs Asking Rielly to Waive NMC
I was thinking today that Morgan Rielly will be asked to waive his no-movement clause (NMC), so he can be traded. When you get past the professional-athlete aspect, it has to feel devastating in a very human way. Rielly is a player who has spent his entire career in one city and organization, not just skating through it, but becoming part of it.
The city, the teammates, the community work, and the expectations that come with wearing that jersey every night. Even when roles shift—and they always do—there’s a kind of professional agreement to adjust. To accept less power-play time if it helps the team. To take on a different partner. To play more defence, less risk, change your style, or whatever the team needs in that moment.
There are even little, almost forgettable moments that matter more than fans realize. A new player, Tyson Barrie, arrives, and Rielly reportedly tells the coaching staff that Barrie should take over the first power-play unit to get him going. The power play was Rielly’s responsibility, and he was good at it. Instead of friction, Rielly asked for a supporting role to help a new teammate. He was a guy who didn’t always insist on ownership. He just wanted to help the machine work.
I admire that kind of loyalty. And it goes both ways—until it doesn’t.
Related: Professor’s Cup of Coffee: Morning Thoughts About Coaching Differences.
When You Realize the Team Has Moved On From You.
There’s another side to this, and every player eventually feels it in some form. You sign a contract you believe is fair. Maybe even team-friendly. You give your body to the grind of it all. Injuries, travel, playoff runs, the full weight of expectation, and the devastating losses. You do your job the best you can, sometimes without the spotlight you might deserve.
Then, slowly, the tone changes. At some point, the reality shifts from "you are part of the team" to "we need to move in another direction." That has to be hard to process. Not because players don’t understand the business—they absolutely get it. But there’s still a human layer underneath it all.
You were there when things were uncertain. You carried responsibility when it mattered. You built relationships in that room. And even if a trade makes perfect sense on paper, even if it leads somewhere familiar or comfortable or even better, there’s still that moment of recognition:
The team you gave everything to is pretty sure it doesn’t want you. That’s not just hockey. That’s something closer to how we all feel when we know we are losing something that really matters to us.
Given who Rielly is and has been, do you really think he’d say NO to the team he’s given his best to? Like his play or not, the guy is a class act.