Scratch him, put him in a suit, sit him in the press box, and keep writing the checks. When Connor Hellebuyck's suspension lifts Friday, that's the only move that makes sense for a team sitting near the top of the Central Division without him, and the fact that it comes to this is on two men.
Start with Hellebuyck. He requested a trade publicly on Aug. 27, saying through agent Ray Petkau that he'd asked privately "several months ago." "My position has not changed, and I believe moving on is the best path forward for me and my family," he said. Players ask out, nothing wrong with that. What he did next was the blunder: he skipped training camp with no permission, which handed the Jets the hammer. They suspended him Sept. 17 for failing to report, stopped paying him, and let the meter run. He's forfeited close to a tenth of his salary, reportedly more than $900,000, chasing a trade he has no power to force. He dug that wound himself.
Now Kevin Cheveldayoff. "A contract is a contract," he says, and he's leaned on that line for months. He won't rush a deal, insists he hasn't gotten an adequate offer, and TSN's Darren Dreger reported the Jets haven't seen "fair value in return for an elite-level goaltender." The Hurricanes and Kings have reportedly kicked the tires, and a no-movement clause trims the pool of suitors. A GM who won't pay the price to end this or say plainly he's keeping his goalie has left his team six days from a reunion nobody wants, with no plan to avoid it.
Winnipeg doesn't need him. Entering the week the suspension ends, the Jets were 4-1-2 and third in the Central, running goaltending by committee with Stuart Skinner, signed over the summer, as the de facto starter. Hellebuyck hasn't played a game since last spring, blew off camp, and told everyone he wants out. You don't drop that into the crease of a first-place team on a few days' notice. Last season he went 23-23-11 with a 2.86 goals-against average and an .895 save percentage, the worst of his career, and the Jets went 3-10-1 during his November absence after an 11-7 start. Rushing a disgruntled, undertrained goalie back is a gamble on a guy who just announced he'd rather be somewhere else.
The organization owns a slice of this too: it suspended a player who had signaled he meant to come back. Hellebuyck did tell the Jets before their Oct. 2 opener that he intended to rejoin. He also missed the camp deadline without permission, and under the CBA that's exactly what gives the team the right to sit him. You don't earn credit for promising to show up after you've already refused to.
Trading him by Friday would be the cleanest ending. There's no sign it's close. Cheveldayoff has turned down offers for months, nothing in the reporting suggests a deal is imminent, and activating Hellebuyck drops his $8.5 million cap hit back on the books and forces a corresponding roster move to clear a spot. If a contender gets desperate, take the call. Waiting out a better package while your team keeps winning is a position a GM can hold.
What he can't hold is playing Hellebuyck out of spite, or playing him because the paperwork allows it. Elliotte Friedman already named the trap: the suspension ending changes nothing about how either side feels. "I don't think that's what anyone wants, not Hellebuyck, not the Jets, not the players, not the fans, but that's where we could be next week, barring a trade." He's right. The Heritage Classic lands two days after the suspension lifts, and the pressure only climbs from here.
Scratch him, pay him, and wait for the deal that's worth it. The goalie who tried to muscle his way out and the GM who wouldn't shut the door built this corner together.
