NASHVILLE, Tenn. — There's little doubt that San Jose Sharks goalie James Reimer knew well in advance that allowing a soft overtime goal to Kraken defenseman Vince Dunn on Thursday would be the least of his weekend problems to follow.
Just two days later, trouble of his own making struck Reimer far harder than the puck had on Dunn's winning shot between the goalie's legs. And judging by the statement issued by Reimer after declining to wear his team's Pride Night warm-up jersey before Saturday's game against the New York Islanders, he'd clearly seen that trouble coming.
Reimer's statement cited his Christian beliefs as the reason he chose not to wear the jersey in support of the LGBTQ+ community.
"For all 13 years of my NHL career, I have been a Christian — not just in title, but in how I choose to live my life daily," Reimer said.
"I have a personal faith in Jesus Christ who died on the cross for my sins and, in response, asks me to love everyone and follow him.
"I have no hate in my heart for anyone, and I have always strived to treat everyone that I encounter with respect and kindness. In this specific instance, I am choosing not to endorse something that is counter to my personal convictions which are based on the Bible, the highest authority in my life."
And so, while the Kraken quickly moved beyond their San Jose experience, splitting two subsequent contests before facing the Nashville Predators here Thursday in the first of two key games, the same likely can't be said for the Sharks goalie they beat.
Reimer won't have the easiest time getting people to look beyond Saturday's decision or words. And his motives deserve scrutiny, because he claims one thing about "respect" for others while refusing to grant that respect when afforded the opportunity.
The "Pride Night" warm-up jerseys are about some NHL teams giving often-marginalized communities an additional sense of pride and respect by wearing them in their honor. Be they LGBTQ+, BIPOC, Asian or Native American people having their community symbols placed on jerseys, that type of inclusion matters.
Sure, the NHL's diversity and inclusion efforts are borne partly out of a practical — some might say cynical — need to grow the game's exposure, given sport fan demographics trending younger and to nontraditional hockey communities. But even then, the NHL deserves credit for honest work at helping these communities feel more included.
This was never about Reimer. Or his religion. Until he made it that.
Same with Philadelphia Flyers defenseman Ivan Provorov, who declined in January to wear his team's Pride Night jersey, saying it ran contrary to his Russian Orthodox faith.
Things snowballed from there. The Minnesota Wild absconded from Pride Night jerseys as a team, and the New York Rangers canceled a planned Pride Night altogether. On Wednesday, The Associated Press reported that the Chicago Blackhawks will not wear Pride-themed jerseys before Sunday's game because of security concerns involving Russian law (defenseman Nikita Zaitsev is a Moscow native, and others have connections to the country).
With Reimer citing Christian beliefs, instead of the focus being on NHL's work helping traditionally marginalized groups feel good about themselves, it's suddenly shifted to a hodgepodge debate about freedom of religion and individual workplace rights.
But no one ever told Reimer or Provorov they couldn't work unless wearing the jerseys. Nobody forced them to convert to another religion, or take part in activities specifically barred by their faiths.
The thing about bringing religion into this is, it's complicated. Some religions stretch back hundreds, even thousands of years to when values and beliefs emerged from an existence not always applicable to modern times.
Anyone can comb through reams of religious documents and twist a handful of passages to justify seemingly any position on any modern subject.
It's interesting to note that when the Kraken held their Pride Night last week, all players — including forward Ryan Donato — donned their special-themed warm-up jerseys.
Donato is a devout Christian and one of the most expressively religious players on the team. Nary an interview goes by when he isn't thanking God or making a religious reference to describe what helped him score a goal that night or become a productive NHL player overall.
I attempted to ask Donato about his wearing of the Pride Night jersey with seemingly no problem. He politely declined through a team spokesperson, not wanting to say anything that might be construed as casting other players in a bad light.
Kraken goalie Philipp Grubauer, who's been out because of an illness, once helped start a regular chapel service with the Colorado Avalanche. He not only wore his jersey but signed it for a team charity auction.
Throwing on a warm-up jersey as an act of inclusion might not seem like much to some. But for communities traditionally underrepresented within the majority, even small acts can go a long way.
Last month, after the Kraken agreed to wear the Muckleshoot tribal patch on their regular game jerseys next season, tribe's vice chairman Donny Stevenson told me it will give young Native American sports fans something to be proud of.
"There are so many eyes that have the opportunity to see this sort of specific engagement," Stevenson said. "And that asserts our identity as something that's thriving, living, a part of the culture of the city and the region."
Two years ago I wrote about then-Everett Silvertips junior player Brendan Lee, who is of Chinese heritage, using his influence during a pandemic period of rising anti-Asian sentiment.
"With the platform I have, I think I can be an influencer," Lee told me. "Maybe have somebody look up to me that's a kid, who can see an American Asian playing hockey — and that it's a kid from Seattle."
We've heard many stories about young Black hockey players wanting to emulate role models who have the same skin color. Bellingham resident Maealie Glanzer, a teenage hockey star born in Uganda and adopted by American parents, got to meet Black female hockey pros such as Saroya Tinker, Blake Bolden and Sarah Nurse.
"I like to look at things like, 'How many people of color are on the Olympic team this year? On the college teams?' Or, 'Where are they from?' " Glanzer told me last September, shortly after serving as co-grand marshal of the Seafair Torchlight Parade.
For the LGBTQ+ community, it isn't as easy to identify gay athletes on major pro teams. Many choose not to speak about their private lives.
In those cases, often the best representation the community sees is having an NHL player throw on a jersey for a few minutes pregame.
That's all this ever was about.
By making it all about himself, to the exclusion of others, Reimer undermined efforts by NHL teams such as the Kraken to help those less advantaged than they are. And his motives deserve all the scrutiny they get.
