"Not much seems to worry Craig Conroy. He's one of those rare, lucky individuals whose personality has dictated they sail through life propelled by a warm, generous breeze.
But even if he were the compulsively fretting sort, a very un-Langkow-like start from Daymond wouldn't have him scrambling for the Pepto-Bismol bottle. On that hot-button topic, he suggests everyone adopt the motto of Mad Magazine's Alfred E. Neuman.
"Me? Worried? About Lanks?'' Conroy laughs, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, no. First guy back. Sticks his nose into the dirty areas. On the right side of the puck all the time. Comes to work every day and quietly does his job.
"He's one guy I NEVER worry about.''
Typically, the call-in shows and chat rooms are clogged to suffocating with the frenzied hand-wringing brought on by three losses on the trot. The oil-and-water Dion Phaneuf-Robyn Regehr pairing on the Calgary Flames' defence is one of the prime topics under discussion. The unseemly number of shots being machine-gunned at goaltender Miikka Kiprusoff, too. And how long until Brent Sutter's defence-first influence begins to insidiously take an ironclad hold of the whole.
But stuck in there, somewhere, with all the shrill concerns: What gives with Langkow?
After seven games, the man who has unobtrusively, almost anonymously, developed into Calgary's Mr. Reliability, counted upon heavily as the centre-spoke of a productive second line, has collected but one goal, two points and is hovering at polar-ice-cap minus-9, frostiest in the league.
"I feel a little . . . guilty,'' Langkow admits. "Things really haven't gone the way I wanted them to, obviously. I have to be better. I understand that. It's tough. I feel as if I'm letting the team down.''
Such has been Langkow's dependability coupled with an utter lack of pretense that the guy's play seems to have to take a dip in order for him get so much as noticed around here. He's transformed the adjectives "good" and "solid" from middling compliments into subtle superlatives, averaging 62 points a season since shuttling north from the Arizona Sun Belt four years ago.
Significantly, Daymond Langkow has never been on the minus side of the ledger as a Flame.
Plays hurt (using a busted paw during the Chicago series in the spring). Plays sick. Plays wherever and with whomever they tell him. Practises hard. Plays harder. And never complains.
What's more puzzling about the current situation is Langkow raced through the National Hockey League pre-season in spectacular fettle, apparently setting the table for a catch-me-if-you-can start.
So, go figure.
The two points are unsettling. The minus-9 is galling. He's an obvious example of Sutter's recurring complaint that "we haven't had guys playing at the level we expect of them.'' Yet the coach, too, seems to harbour no concerns over the certainty of No. 22 picking up the pace in short order.
"After the Dallas game, when the line was minus-3, he was upset,'' says Sutter. "It affected him, and has bothered him the last couple of games. Daymond and I had a good talk about it. I don't worry about Daymond. He has such great understanding of the game. He knows and he cares.''
In Columbus 48 hours ago, Sutter played mix-'n'-match with the lines in the wake of that epic collapse at the United Center the night before, hoping to rattle some cages and singe some backsides. The partnership of Langkow, leading-scorer Rene Bourque and Nigel Dawes, a fixture since camp, was split up.
"I wanted to distance themselves from each other for a bit,'' explains Sutter. "I wanted to break up the marriage for a while. But it wasn't a divorce . . . ''"
