Viewed in isolation, there's a way to make the events of the past few days for the Toronto Maple Leafs seem palatable.
Rather than lose a star player to free agency for nothing, they recouped something from the Vegas Golden Knights for Mitch Marner in a sign-and-trade deal. And not just the kind of salary ballast or roster flotsam that is normally part of such a move, but a real guy: Nic Roy, a depth center with actual NHL playoff experience.
The Leafs were also finally forced into making a major change. After another playoff collapse, and after trying to trade Marner at the deadline, it was plainly evident that both parties were ready for a divorce. No one even pretended that a fat Marner extension with his hometown team was a serious possibility.
The Core Four was doomed, and so it has come to pass.
But that era ending with a whimper instead of a bang doesn't make it any less absurd in the big picture.
Under the guidance of recently departed team president Brendan Shanahan, the Leafs spent the better part of 10 years placing a massive bet on their skilled forwards. It didn't matter how many times or after how many playoff exits it was pointed out that a huge amount of precious salary-cap space had been allotted to those four forwards; Toronto's front office always responded by expressing faith in its high-end talent.
Whether it was Shanahan, former general manager Kyle Dubas, or Dubas replacement Brad Treliving, someone was always there with a reason to stick to the plan. To believe in the talent. To run it back.
A close first-round series loss to the Bruins or Lightning? Hey, could have gone either way. And that was a tough opponent.
An ugly first-round ouster by the Blue Jackets? It's a pandemic. A loss the following year to the Canadiens? John Tavares was hurt, and they were beaten by a goalie on a heater. A collapse in the second round two seasons ago after finally managing to win a series? The new GM needed time to get to know his players before making any sudden changes.
That last rationalization was the most misguided of all. Treliving, hired in a rush after Shanahan and Dubas split, didn't want to make any franchise-altering decisions in his early days in Toronto. So he sat on his hands, during which time Marner's no-trade clause kicked in for the final two years of his contract.
Marner said Treliving gave the Core Four his blessing shortly after taking the job.
"Brad came in and defended us all, really," Marner said around that time. "It meant a lot to all of us (for him) to come in and do that."
Whoops.
But because Treliving took the path of least resistance - or Shanahan didn't instruct his new hire to make big changes to a roster that had already authored a long and painful streak of disappointing playoff exits - the Maple Leafs have been ushered into a new reality. The team that was forever reluctant to blow it up has now had things blown up for them. Instead of four elite forwards, the Leafs now have three, plus a pile of salary-cap space with no obvious short-term purpose. Instead of entering next season wondering if they can again slug it out with the Panthers and Lightning at the top of the Atlantic Division, they should probably be thinking more about holding off the Canadiens and Senators while they try to replace Marner's production.
The end of the Core Four might still be for the best, of course. Plenty of evidence suggests something was missing from that group, as the Leafs' stars - Marner certainly among them - repeatedly failed to show up in the biggest games. It's possible that the money that would have gone to a Marner extension will be better spent on the kind of depth pieces who play such important roles for teams that put together long postseason runs.
But Marner's departure remains a humiliating outcome for a franchise that considers itself a premier NHL destination. A local kid fleeing Canada's biggest market for an expansion franchise in the desert? Ouch.
The Maple Leafs ran it back too many times, and now they're left to pick up the pieces.
Scott Stinson is a contributing writer for theScore.
