So there's this guy.

He's at almost all the Habs' practices, he's on the ice, he wears one of those spiffy CH tracksuits. Ball cap. Whistle. Left-handed stick.

His name isn't Kirk, or Perry, and it sure isn't Jacques.

He never played in the big pro leagues, or even in the small ones.

And he doesn't talk to the media - not ever - which is part of the reason no one ever talks about him.

You'll get a friendly smile and a nod, maybe a chance conversation in a hotel lobby, but it won't be about anything important. Part of that's down to the way the secrecy that typically pervades the Canadiens organization, part of it is natural reticence from the guy himself.

Because this, pretty people, is Pierre Groulx, the goalie whisperer.

And if this season our boy Carey has been able to once again stoke the fans' religious fervour in "Jesus" Price, messiah and saviour of an entire hockey nation, at least some of the credit has to go to the quiet guy off to the side.

As you know, French Immersion never spares its vast and competitively-priced resources in pursuit of a story.