Ryan: Tuukka Rask was the perfect athlete for Boston - even if it didn’t always deserve him

Savonlinna is a hell of a long way from Boston. 3,985 miles to be exact.

Both locales share some camaraderie in the form of utterly miserable winters (of which the former has a more legitimate gripe). But beyond that, there aren't a whole lot of tethers to be found between the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and the Saimaa lake region of Finland. 

So, on a surface level, Tuukka Rask and Boston would seem to go together about as well as a fluffernutter and a Kalakukko fish pie. 

A European transplant buoyed by the narrative of his immense potential, tossed into the pressure cooker of an often unforgiving market such as here? Wait … AND he was a Maple Leafs draft pick?

Best of luck, pal.

And yet, over his 15 years in a black-and-gold sweater, Rask was far from an outsider. 

Hell, outside of his name and that slight Finn intonation, you would have thought he hailed from Saugus instead of Savonlinna. 

Outside of the rink, Rask was a regular around town. 

During the offseason, you’d normally catch him at Fenway — on hand for either a Sox game or a summertime concert. Or perhaps he was cleaning out the stockpile of Buffalo wings over at Buff’s Pub. Or maybe he was mozying through the North End (The “Tuukka Special” remains the crown jewel of the many great selections at Monica’s Mercato on Salem Street).

During postgames scrums, the netminder oftentimes sounded like a true Bostonian — blunt, candid and good for a wisecrack or self-deprecating remark. 

And on the ice, there have been few athletes better equipped to trudge through the nuclear winter that can be the Boston sports scene and withstand both the warranted (and unwarranted) criticism sent his way. 

For Rask, catching flak from the afternoon drive was about as commonplace as snagging a disc of vulcanized rubber off an odd-man rush. It just comes with the gig, and doesn't occupy much in terms of his day-to-day psyche.

“People love their sports — doesn't matter if it's basketball, baseball, hockey or football. There's always the fans out there who want to see you win and succeed — but they have the right to criticize you,” Rask said last season. “And I've accepted the fact that my job is what it is. 

“Sometimes people praise you. Sometimes they don't. So I haven't put too much thought into that while I've been playing. It's just something that comes with the territory and I just try to do my job as good as I can every night and give us a chance to win.”

In wake of Wednesday’s news that Rask was indeed hanging up his skates, there’s no need to delve too deep into the lofty resume that the Finnish goaltender penned during his time in Boston. We know most of it by this point. 

By that same token, there’s no need to delve into the arguments against Rask’s case as the Bruins’ greatest netminder. Because, frankly, we’ve heard all those too.

It’s rather ironic, especially now looking in hindsight, that Rask so embraced a city that didn’t always reciprocate such warm sentiment. 

You can chalk that up to the nature of the business. And yes, of course, because of baseline results.

As unfortunate as it was for Rask’s career to end on such an unceremonious note, it’s almost fitting that his exit has once again sparked a firestorm of discourse — with the two sides of the same fanbase opting not to surrender an inch in their respective stances on the netminder. 

But even in a town that’s usually predisposed to embrace pessimism, it does look as though the positives are far outweighing the (considerably fewer) negatives when it comes to painting the picture that is Rask’s legacy with Boston. 

For as much as narratives largely plagued Rask throughout his NHL career, we’ll instead focus on the facts. 

• 564 games played — the most ever for a Bruins goalie.
• 308 wins — tops in franchise history. 
• .921 career save percentage — the third-highest mark ALL-TIME (min. 300) games behind just Dominik Hasek and Ken Dryden.

Yes, while names like Dave Bolland or Alex Pietrangelo are offered as a retort from a vocal minority of B’s fans when it comes to Rask’s postseason prowess, both Cup runs would have fizzled out long before had it not been for Rask stemming the tide — be it against a juggernaut Penguins team in 2013 (134 saves on 136 shots) or the Leafs/Jackets/’Canes in 2019 (a .949 save percentage in 10 games).

(And, if you’re a true glutton for punishment, re-watch that Game 7 against St. Louis and dole out blame again with a fresh set of eyes. Because you ain’t winning a lot of Game 7s when your best player that night is Joakim Nordstrom). 

Rask might not have gone out on the terms that he wanted, but the course he charted that led to such a decision — going through months of rehab and signing for dirt-cheap in hope of one last Cup run next to longtime friends like Patrice Bergeron — sure speaks louder than whatever “quitter” narrative gets spewed out on social media.

“That’s what I never really, in my head, I didn’t want to flirt with the opportunity to go anywhere else,” Rask said back in early January. “A lot of it, it’s a business, like everybody knows. But for us players, when we’ve had a team like the Bruins — basically a bunch of us have grown up together here — you feel that brotherhood and you don’t want to leave guys on bad terms.”

In a city where greatness on the field/diamond/court/ice is often pretty black and white — and dictated by the amount of hardware on your trophy shelf — Rask stands as a unique outlier, even though he still is immortalized as the backup on that 2011 Cup squad. 

Is there one word that perhaps best sums up Rask’s tenure in Boston? Maybe complicated is the apt term.

Look no further than his last weeks as an NHL netminder. 

On Jan. 12, chants of “WE WANT TUU-KKAA” erupted from the Garden seats.

On Jan. 14, the 34-year-old netminder was serenaded with cheers spilling down the 300 sections as he made his long-awaited season debut.

And just 10 days later, Rask exited down the Garden tunnel for what was ultimately the final time of his career — with the din of boos filling the lower bowl of Boston’s barn following a disheartening defeat.

For most athletes, such an uneven dynamic would sap even the most hardened individuals of their sanity. 

For Rask, it was simply just another day at the office.

"I’ve never wanted to play for any other team,” Rask said in his retirement address. “I’m so proud to have worn the Spoked-B for my entire career and wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Not half bad for a promising young netminder from Saug- err, Savonlinna. 

A netminder that, against conventional thinking, wove himself into the fabric of a community close to 4,000 miles from home. 

A netminder that, through all of the draining discourse, became one of the greatest to ever don a Bruins sweater.