Jerestä
Commentary by DAVID CLIMER
Senior Writer
The NHL handled the heavy lifting for the Predators yesterday, announcing Jere Karalahti's six-month suspension for a third violation of the league's substance-abuse policy.
That makes the Preds' three-step recovery program simple:
1. Provide all the appropriate emotional support during his hiatus.
2. Help him petition for reinstatement to the NHL at the proper time.
3. Then drop him like a sack of dirty socks.
Once burned, twice shy? You bet. If you're trying to make the playoffs, can you really afford to have a Prodigal Predator on your side?
Preds management stuck out its neck for Karalahti halfway through last season, weighing his well-documented, almost boastful history as a drug user against the need for help on the blue line.
What do they have to show for it? Forty-five games of decent hockey last season and a big vacancy on their 2002-03 roster.
I remember the day Karalahti played his first game for the Preds. In the locker room, he talked openly about his past failings and thanked the Preds for having faith.
Outside the locker room, Preds GM David Poile said he believed he had done the right thing but, with uncertainty written on his face, admitted he knew he was on thin ice.
''I probably have the same look on my face right now,'' Poile said yesterday as he reflected on the events of the previous few hours.
By nature, Poile is not a big risk-taker. Swapping Cliff Ronning, the franchise's all-time leading scorer, for someone with such a checkered past was far out of character. Even with Poile's stated mission to jettison older players from the roster, this was a stretch — and he knew it.
''Everyone who knew Jere felt he had moved past his problems,'' Poile said. ''We had the hope and a little bit of prayer he would be all right.''
Poile said he talked to Karalahti last week and everything seemed fine. Now the cold, hard facts of the moment hold that Karalahti might never play another minute of NHL hockey. A six-month ban is one thing; an inability or unwillingness to play by the rules is another.
There are indications that it was alcohol — not heroin, not cocaine, not amphetamines, not one of those other pharmaceutical toys from his past — that tripped Karalahti this time. Maybe he didn't go on some drug-crazed binge straight from his favorite movie, Oliver Stone's whacked-out Natural Born Killers.
In the context of Karalahti's life, the lesser the substance, the better. One beer too many is better than a loaded syringe.
But as all this relates to Karalahti's NHL life — and specifically his life cycle as a Predator — it doesn't matter. Note to Preds: Cut your losses. Don't compound a bad trade with bad judgment. Let somebody else take the next shot at rescuing him from himself.
Karalahti arrived in Nashville with two strikes against him due to (1) his admitted high life while playing in Europe and (2) a one-night drinking binge on a road trip last season while playing for the L.A. Kings. He knew he was subject to random drug/alcohol testing, both in-season and out-of-season, at the drop of a specimen cup.
Even so, he could not hold up his end of the bargain.
At some point, Jere Karalahti has to take responsibility for his own actions, his own career, his own life. And the Predators have to move on.
David Climer is a senior writer and columnist for The Tennessean. He can be reached at 615-259-8020 or
dclimer@tennessean.com.
