The unknown is what would have happened if the acrobatic Dominik Hasek had arrived on the North American hockey scene earlier than age 25.

Would Hasek have become a No. 1 goalie sooner than he actually did -- at age 28 with the Sabres, his second NHL organization -- and put up career numbers that scream louder than the dossier he will take into retirement?

	Dominik Hasek had his eye on the ultimate prize -- the Stanley Cup -- and got it this year with the Wings.

As it is, with Hasek retiring Tuesday after his triumphant season with the Red Wings, his body of work -- both quantifiable and otherwise, in Europe and North America -- is sufficiently impressive for the Czech to go down as one of the top goaltenders in the history of the game.

Put him in there with Ken Dryden, Terry Sawchuk, Glenn Hall, Jacques Plante, and Patrick Roy. In expanding the horizons to the international scene and pondering what might have been, former Soviet goalie Vladislav Tretiak -- now the Blackhawks' goaltending consultant -- should be tossed into the mix.

If the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto can be open-minded enough to admit Tretiak without a game of NHL experience, then the Russian should be considered here.

First of all, the feeling here is that the Red Wings' Stanley Cup victory was absolutely essential to validate Hasek's inclusion among the elite of the elite at the position. (Tretiak, of course, never got the chance at the game's Holy Grail.)

Hasek seems to have known that. The Hart Trophy, which Hasek won twice; the Vezina Trophy, which Hasek won six times; the Olympic gold medal, which Hasek won once; all were compelling. His sprawling and scrambling, and his uncannily intuitive senses of anticipation and reaction, all have been head-shaking stunning for nearly a decade.

But, yes, he needed to get his name on the Cup to make the elite list.

It involves another reason the goaltending position is so unique: Ninety-nine percent of the time, this sports-talk blather about an athlete needing to win a championship to be considered truly great or complete is unadulterated hogwash tossed out there by folks who have no clue. OK, they have a clue about how to sit in front of a microphone, stand in front of a camera or type on a laptop computer, but that's about it.

But in hockey, at the goaltending position, it is necessary to have thrust arms overhead, skate out of the crease and brace for the onslaught of teammates celebrating the championship moment.

The only bona fide comparison in North American sports is to the quarterback position in football. Still, anyone who would argue that Dan Marino's greatness wasn't validated because the Dolphins didn't win the Super Bowl during his career is a moron.

But great goaltenders can, and have, helped lead good (not great) teams to the Stanley Cup. It's possible. Roy did it at Montreal. Hasek's Buffalo teams weren't even close to being great, but it wouldn't have been the biggest miracle of all time if he had led the Sabres to a Cup –- either against Dallas in 1999 ("HULL'S SKATE WAS IN THE CREASE!"), or otherwise. The 2001 trade, forced with a championship moment in mind, indeed worked out for both Hasek and the Wings. Hasek was terrific for stretches of the postseason, mediocre for others, and it's even possible that Detroit could have won the Cup again with Chris Osgood in the net. Hasek's Game 6 shutout of Colorado was critical, of course, but even that game was more about Detroit's complete domination and Roy's Statue of Liberty gaffe than it was about a heroic Hasek effort. (Hasek wasn't all that relevant in the Wings' Game 7 demolition of the collapsing Avalanche.)

But he won.

If Detroit owner Mike Ilitch's big-time payroll investment hadn't been rewarded; if Hasek hadn't enjoyed that indescribable moment of triumph so unique to hockey because of the history that resonates from the trophy, then he almost certainly wouldn't be retiring.

Hasek's quest for the Cup isn't only about personal validation, of course. In fact, it is far more about the need to be part of the communal championship experience. Ray Bourque instantly felt that way a year ago when he raised the Cup overhead in Denver, then realized: That's it. It was everything it was cracked up to be, and more, so what's the point of sticking around?

So now he skates, stiff-legged, into retirement and a return to the Czech Republic, at age 37. He is only eight months older than Roy, who has declared his intentions to play at least three more seasons. Physically, Hasek is capable of playing at least two more seasons without significant slippage, but the lure of the homeland and the sense of closure are impossible to ignore at this point.

The amazing thing, again, is that he leaves after being an undisputed No. 1 goaltender for only nine seasons. In that sense, the elite goalie most like him is Dryden, who came out of Cornell in 1969, didn't join the Canadiens until the spring of 1971, led the Habs to the '71 Cup, then was Montreal's entrenched No. 1 for only seven seasons before playing his final game at age 31. Hasek played for Pardubice and Dukla Jihlava, and also was Czechoslovakia's usual No. 1 in international competition until he was 25. When he came into the NHL after the complete erosion of the barriers for Eastern European players, there still was a reluctance to embrace all European-trained goaltenders, as if the crease was the final element in the internationalization of the talent pool.

Indeed, the transition could be more confusing for goalies, as it was for Hasek during his two seasons as an Eddie Belfour backup with the Blackhawks –- a tenure that also included 53 games over the two seasons with the Indianapolis Ice.

Although the Flyers' Pelle Lindbergh, a Swede, won the Vezina in 1985 and was destined for long-term greatness before he was killed in the November 1985 automobile accident, it still often seemed as if all European goalies were trying to convince Don Cherry that they weren't his Swedish goaltender with the Colorado Rockies, the infamous Hardy Astrom.

Hasek has helped break down that prejudice, both for Europeans in general and Eastern Europeans specifically.

He is skating off with the Cup overhead -– and a sense of completeness within.

Terry Frei of The Denver Post is a regular contributor to ESPN.com. His book, "Horns, Hogs, and Nixon Coming," will be published by Simon and Schuster in December.