Why Aren't We Talking About Colin Miller?

Expect lots and lots of mixed emotions, Stars fans.

Instead of worrying about something serious, like Jason Robertson and Jake Oettinger’s next contracts, let’s worry about something minor: Colin Miller. Before we get into the usual — charts, detours, and the occasional outburst — let’s go back in time to the beginning of analytics in hockey. For those that weren’t there, the case study during the analytics boom in 2012 wasn’t about Ovechkin, Crosby, or Stamkos. It was about Anton Stralman: a career journeyman who just seemed to make his team better despite the fact that he wasn’t fast, or big, or much of anything in terms of raw talent. This is where analytics shine and why I place such strong emphasis on them; not because I don’t “watch the games” or because I consider them gospel (which I don’t; I defended Seth Jones, remember?!) but because sometimes we’re looking at a Rorschach.

Goals, size, hits, passes, speed — the skill inherent to these are obvious. But what about rhythm, pacing, timing, decision-making, and anticipation? Do I think Miller is the new Stralman? There’s a huge catch - but yea, I kind of do.

As I said at the time Jim Nill signed him…

If (Mason) Marchment was the high-risk, high-reward move, Colin Miller has been cast as the opposite: low risk, low reward. I’m not so sure. Unlike Marchment, Miller’s 2021-2022 season doesn’t tell us much. He missed the second half due to an undisclosed injury and ended up playing just 38 games with the Sabres. His early stretch of games were predominantly spent with Buffalo’s top college prospect, Jacob Bryson. 

It was a very different role than the one he had in Vegas, where he landed in the expansion draft and was an immediate hit with the Knights, scoring 41 points in 81 games (his first and only full season to date). Early on, he was Gerard Gallant’s go-to shutdown defensemen with Brayden McNabb, and if that sounds crazy, recall how crazy it was for the first-year team to go to the Cup Final with Wiliam Karlsson as its top center. 

Getting back to Stralman, here are their respective career numbers.

I want to focus on expected Wins Above Replacement because I think ‘expected stats’ give us a better idea of a player’s overall performance. Why? It’s easy for players to get cold (low shooting percentage) or hot (high shooting percentage), so emphasizing performance more than counting stats gives us a better approximation of career performance over mere production.

Versus:

And here are the two versus each other in terms of microstats. (For those who always see these, but don’t know what goes into them, check Corey Sznajder’s old stomping grounds for a good explanation)

Data and visuals courtesy of Evolving-Hockey and Corey Sznajder’s All Three Zones Project.

Miller closing in on nearly three wins above replacement during his first year in Vegas is flat out elite. His tracking data is surprisingly similar to Stralman too (not great by any stretch but very serviceable in many respects). He seemed poised to have a Stralmanesque career. Then it all came tumbling down. What happened?

Miller has that classic “if only” profile for a defenseman: he can shoot, he can skate, he can hit (hey-he can even fight too), but none of it has ever added up the way you’d think. His decision-making can be brutal, and in point of fact, this is how he fell out of favor with Gerard Gallant. Read between the lines of Gallant’s comments after healthy scratching Miller in the 2019 Stanley Cup Playoffs and the message is clear — if he’s prepared mentally, he can play at a higher level than his career status would suggest, but he isn’t always prepared mentally, thus his career status. Pretty harsh (Gallant is known to be that type.)

Is that a fair assessment? It’s hard to say. Miller hasn’t had what I’d call a “complete” career. He played 103 games for Boston, showing promise, but also getting shuffled around, including being shifted to his weakside (which he admitted was difficult) for a time. Before he could find his footing inside a stacked Boston group— which at the time included Zdeno Chara, Torey Krug, Brandon Carlo, Kevan Miller, and Adam McQuaid—the Vegas Golden Knights showed up to the party and Miller became a victim of expansion. According to Bruins beat writer Fluto Shinzawa, it was justified for reasons that sounded a lot like Gallant’s.

…His history shows a tendency to skate pucks into traps, second-guess himself when clear and rapid processing power is needed, and hammer shots into traffic or wide of the net.

Granted, that was in 2017. Well…and 2016. But please keep in mind that Fluto is one of the best writers/analysts in the game, so do NOT take his evaluation with a grain of salt. If his problems followed him in Vegas, then what makes Miller so interesting?

My pet theory is that depth defensemen can be a little like a Rorschach. Sometimes they’re ruggedly crafted instead of readily deployed. They can be more easily influenced by systems, coaching, and teammates than any other position. Whenever I look at a depth defenseman’s career performance to date, the pattern always feels similar; there’s a year or two where they spike (as Miller did in Vegas that magical first year, and as Stralman did in Tampa), and then level off well below their former (or future) heights. And that year or two usually spikes with a certain roster or specific opportunity. Anyone remember how badly broken Jeff Petry was in Edmonton, and how he’s looked nothing like that man in Montreal? This is why I never shut up about development: it’s not just for prospects! Does that mean I think a respected veteran NHL coach and one of the best beat writers to ever do it are wrong?

Of course not. But coaches don’t get the benefit of analyzing players for who they might be. They can only work with the player as they exist now. After all, their job is on the line, and usually the mandate from management is “win now” which makes living with the occasional mistake dangerous ground. But you said he’s like Stralman - why did you lie? That was the catch. He used to be like Stralman. He had his moment when get got all the right breaks: a good two-zone partner in Brayden McNabb, solid offensive depth from the roster, complete buy-in from the players to the coach, and the edge to prove the skeptics wrong.

But if my theory is right, then there’s a world where Miller becomes quietly valuable to Dallas. Will it be next to Esa Lindell? That could make sense. Much as I criticize Lindell for the optical illusion he is, he’s nothing if not duct tape. But what if a top four role wears him down, like it did in Vegas (this is essentially how he ended up in Buffalo - after his big year, Vegas, as they often do, gave him a nice big contract and then experienced buyer’s remorse the following year, as they often do)? Will it be next to Thomas Harley? That could make sense. We’ve seen Jani Hakanpaa shift into a top four role to decent results. But what if Miller’s not a good babysitter? To me that potential pair breaks one of two ways: either their talent getting out of the zone and putting pucks on net allows them to spend less time in the defensive zone and they excel, or their confidence getting out of the zone and putting pucks on net waivers enough that they end up spending more time in the defensive zone anyway.

Also critical: which two lines are they spending most of their time with? The top six or the bottom six? When they’re not taking on-the-fly shifts, are they deployed in the offensive zone, or the defensive zone? Are they leveraged more when trailing, or when leading?

Miller’s presence is interesting precisely because his placement will create a stylistic chain reaction on the blueline. If he’s next to Lindell, Dallas will have the classic offensive-guy-defensive guy symmetry across all three pairs. For the record, this is not a philosophy I consider intuitive (insert the hammer/nail cliche here), but it might be the only way for Dallas. If not, then the pressure will be on Lindell and Hakanpaa to form Dallas’ shutdown pair. I’m personally not confident they’re capable of that — I apologize for pretending to be diplomatic; in 277 minutes together they were 43 percent in expected goal share, which was 16th out of 18 defensive pairs with at least 30 minutes together which is absolutely god awful — but I can see a world in which it works if it means Harley-Miller need to be sheltered.

Miller is not here to replace Klingberg. Nor was he supposed to. The irony is that I predict fans will have a similar reaction; dwelling on his big mistakes, and specific efficiencies (“wow what a shot” versus “where the hell was he going?!”) over his net effect on the territory gained from game to game. There’ll be days when he becomes a brutal reminder of what Dallas lost — of what a set of skills looks like when they’re not executed with confidence or vision. Don’t be surprised if a large contingent of Stars fans use Miller as an example of mismanagement. “Did they think this guy would replace Klingberg?!” They’ll shout. In some ways, it’s a fair criticism.

But the potential for him to rediscover his game is enough for Dallas to lay the groundwork for something that can play above expectations. Perhaps that’s what interested Dallas’ pro scouts more than his babysitting work in Buffalo; knowing he’s reached his potential once before. Miller doesn’t need to be a savior. He just needs to be serviceable. Anything more is just gravy. Anything less could be disastrous. I know that sounds odd, but if depth defenseman are truly talented at anything it’s at being a useful paradox.