The Tuukka Rask conundrum: How much do athletes owe their fans?

There's more to being a professional athlete these days than just giving an honest effort on the field of play. 

Behavior matters. Actions matter. Showing that you care about the people who buy the tickets that pay the ridiculous salaries ... matters.

Why? Because it's never been more expensive to be a sports fan, and because fans are more connected than ever before.

This is not meant to be a takedown of Tuukka Rask and his recent decision to leave the NHL playoff bubble, a choice that we now know via his conversation with WEEI's Greg Hill was made due to - at least in part -  a medical emergency with his daughter. 

.⁦@GregHillWEEI⁩ spoke to Tuukka Rask yesterday about his departure from the NHL bubble: pic.twitter.com/HxiHUNcagR

Sure, there is a vocal minority who doubt that story, but I'd wager 98 percent of Bruins fans totally understand Rask's departure now in that light, and would have done the exact same thing if they were in his skates.

But that doesn't mean Rask's manner of departure didn't leave some negative marks on his legacy. 

Tuukka's shortcomings this past week: tone-deaf comments where he said results don't matter, five days of (mostly) silence following his hasty exit from the Toronto NHL bubble, and a continued lack of clarity as to whether he'll consider returning to the playoffs should his family emergency correct itself.

If Rask gave even the slightest effort toward addressing those issues, I'm guessing that would have gone a million inches with fans in how they feel connected with him.

I understand Rask's mind was elsewhere traveling home Saturday, but would it have been that difficult to put out a simple statement at some point saying: "Bruins fans, I apologize for having to leave the playoffs on short notice, but I have a serious family emergency to attend to. I hope you can respect my family's privacy at this time. I also apologize if my comments after Game 2 last Thursday missed the mark. Of course, I care about results, I meant only to say that I'm realistic that my level of play will take more time to rise to peak levels. Finally, I hope to return to help my teammates in their run for the Stanley Cup if and as soon as my personal situation allows. Best, Tuukka"

A simple statement like that on social media changes everything in the eyes of the sports fan. Mostly, it just makes the paying customer feel appreciated, that their thousands of dollars spent on tickets and cable TV are worth it.

My colleague Danielle Murr on The Greg Hill Morning Show is adamant that Rask doesn't owe fans an explanation about anything, especially about details regarding his daughter's life.

We had an angry Momma Bear ⁦@DanielleMurr⁩ this morning defending Tuukka: pic.twitter.com/5lNou7bhtq

She's right about Rask's daughter, on that we can universally agree. Kids - and families - aren't the public figures in question here. But Tuukka is different. If he doesn't owe fans an explanation for bailing at the most important time of the year, then those dedicated fans then owe no apology to Rask for judging him - or his franchise - for his and their lack of give-an-F quotient. 

Some Bruins fans have watched, attended, laughed and cried through games for 48 years and have seen one Stanley Cup win. Forgive them if they'd like a morsel of truth as to why their Vezina goaltender pulled the ripcord two games into a run at another as the President's Trophy team. Forgive them for caring.

Again, this is not meant to bury Rask. He could have handled this better, but for the most part, now people understand. Of course, family emergencies come first. 

And despite some quirky moments, Tuukka has given plenty of himself to the region and fanbase over the years. That's what makes this all the more disappointing because his legacy was largely restored from one of the goats of the 2013 Cup loss and from the player who mysteriously developed a GI bug before a pivotal game 82 in 2016.

Rask was perhaps the B's best player in a 2019 run that left them a win shy of another title. With 500 NHL games played, Rask's legacy was coming into focus as one of the greats in Bruins history at the position. He was a quirky but honest quote with the press and a guy who recently displayed great philanthropy through donations to Hill's Restaurant Strong fund.

Then, just when it seemed like Rask had won back a special place in fans' hearts, that bubble to some degree burst.

And again, fan connection matters. It just does. Think about some other recent Boston athletes who missed out on establishing one in various degrees: Kyrie Irving, David Price, and Mookie Betts.

In Irving's case, he may have been an equal opportunity a-hole, be it to teammates, fans or media. He also had some dog-it moments on the court - read, defensively - that deducted further from his likeability. 

But quotes like these from 2019 that really did Kyrie in: "It happens all the time and Tonight just shows how Sports/Entertainment will always be ignorant and obtrusive. It's one big SHOW that means very little in the real world. It's about doing it for the fans and organization that you love so much? Think again, it's a GAME, and it's promoted as a Fandom experience for ticket buyers and viewers at home while defacing who people truly are as PEOPLE."

Have fans lost perspective on the real-world importance of these GAMES and SHOWS? Yes, long ago. That's why these locker rooms are full of many entitled millionaires who've had their butts smooched since they walked high school hallways. 

That doesn't mean these PEOPLE have to make it blatantly obvious to the Fandom that they wouldn't cross the street to spit on them if they were on fire.

How about a happy medium where the athlete cares a little?

Price was somewhere in the middle ground, an athlete who seemed to be a respected clubhouse presence, but whose disdain for the media seeped through his pores and spun his legacy in a distinctly negative light despite his 2018 Championship heroics. He just couldn't bring himself to play nice despite $217 million reasons why he should have.

On the opposite end of the Kyrie spectrum, Mookie Betts' on field-effort was beyond critique and he was well-liked by fans during his time here. But he could have been LOVED. Mostly, it seems like his departure was met with apathy, a consensus shrug. His understated personality and loose connection with the media and fans might have contributed to that.

It's been an interesting week in the athlete - fan relationship study to be sure. At the moment, Rask and New England sports fans appear to be in therapy attempting to save their marriage. Maybe all that will take is Tuukka showing up to sit on the couch for a little while to show he cares. Or, of course, announcing a return date to the bubble to repair that burst.