Paul Maurice is the Jon Gruden of the NHL. The Carolina Hurricanes' genial and youthful head coach has facial muscles that twist and contort as if a child with a joystick is controlling them from another room. So it was no surprise that when he was asked a month ago about his two goaltenders, his right eyebrow rose, his jaw jutted left and his lips pursed -- giving an air of perplexity, amusement and annoyance all at once. What was surprising was his answer: "I have very little to do with them."

	Maurice is keeping his distance from the 'Canes growing goalie controversy.

Maurice treats his goalies the way Gruden treats his kickers -- not at all. "To truly understand them," Maurice says, "you gotta play the position." So Maurice has had only a few words with Arturs Irbe this season, and just as few with Kevin Weekes. The rest is up to goaltending coach Don Edwards -- who is only occasionally with the big club in Raleigh -- and GM Jim Rutherford, who is a former goalie. The thought that one or even both of his goalies was unhappy about sharing the crease hardly occurred to Maurice during the first month of the season. "I'm not sure I've spent an enormous amount of time considering it," Maurice said only two days before Irbe went to the press with his wish to play more or leave.

Maurice underestimated himself: goalies can not only be understood, they beg to be understood. Sure, both Irbe and Weekes keep to themselves and don't like to fraternize with teammates or coaches, but both are thoughtful, opinionated, and fiercely proud men. They want to vent -- they just don't want venting to hurt their standing or the team. A good, private heart-to-heart with Irbe might have prevented the Latvian's somewhat embarrassing public airing of frustration.

Irbe's distress signals were difficult to see behind the amiable grin. At first, he did not want to even comment for The Magazine's story, let alone confess to his misery and his inability to sleep for days while Weekes took his job. Only after repeated attempts did Irbe open up. But the Canes brass watched Irbe practice for hours after the team left the ice -- "That's my sleeping pill," he explained, "work yourself to death" -- and attributed the abnormal behavior to Irbe's extreme competitiveness. "That's Archie being Archie," Edwards said flatly. Maurice explained it this way: "You're gonna have one somewhat sour goalie every night. But they don't complain. I'd love for them to come to me. I'd love to hear it."

Instead, Irbe took his grievances to the press -- against his better instincts -- because the frustration was too great … and because the press asked. Meanwhile, Weekes had his own issues with not being named No. 1. Weekes is also not one to stir the pot -- especially when he is playing and playing well -- but he did give out the number of close friend and mentor Kirk Brooks, who voiced Weekes frustrations for him. "He wouldn't have given you my number if he didn't know what I would say," Brooks reasoned. "I feel I know what he's thinking." And when presented with Brooks' opinion that Weekes was not named No. 1 because the Canes wanted "an out" if the young guy failed, Weekes toned down the claim but did not deny it.

By the time Rutherford was interviewed, Weekes had already spoken of his concerns and Irbe had already revealed his plan to play somewhere soon. The veteran even predicted he would be gone by Christmas. When asked about the rising tide of goaltender discontent, Rutherford said, "I understand how they feel." He clearly didn't. His statement that "telling someone they're No. 1 and then watching them have bad games isn't a good situation either" basically confirmed Brooks' theory and Weekes' fears.

A few private conversations between labor and management would not have changed the on-ice situation -- Weekes has clearly outperformed Irbe this season -- but it might have calmed some nerves. "When someone starts taking away your time, you harden as a person," says ESPN's Darren Pang, who shared time with a myriad of other goalies with the Blackhawks before eventually retiring due to knee injuries. "There's nothing like that feeling. You feel like you're on an island by yourself." Goaltenders love being alone, but hate being lonely. Now, at Thanksgiving, Irbe is as miserable than ever -- despite his start last Saturday in Boston. Reached by phone last week, Irbe said he didn't mean to cause such a ruckus, but he couldn't help but speak out. "You know," he told a reporter, "it was you who kind of started this."

Now it's up to those who have played the position to resolve it.

Eric Adelson is a staff writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at eric.adelson@espnmag.com.