In the pantheon of American Presidents, Millard Fillmore occupies the
figurative equivalent of a broom closet.
Consider what the first paragraph of his entry at whitehouse.gov says…
“In his rise from a log cabin to wealth and the White House, Millard Fillmore demonstrated that through methodical industry and some competence an uninspiring man could make the American dream come true.”
Talk about damning with faint praise.
How many Presidents will you find the adjective “uninspiring” applied to
them? Or merely possessing “some
competence?” And so it is with the 13th
President in American history, a man generally regarded among the worst of
those who trod the halls of the White House.
It brings to mind a Washington Capital who was drafted by the club after
a rather impressive improvement in his second year of Canadian juniors, but who
left the club unappreciated and unloved in many quarters of Capitals
Nation. That would be defenseman Jeff
Schultz.
Born in upstate New York to a family of nine children (he was second
oldest and the oldest son), Fillmore might have followed a career as a
cloth-maker. When he was 14 he began his
apprenticeship in that field and was diligently pursuing his training in that
field when he began to study law.
Finding that pursuit more to his liking, he completed his training and
was admitted to the New York bar at the age of 23.
That was the first step in a steady climb up the political ladder. First elected as a New York state assemblyman
in 1828, he advanced to the United States House of Representatives four years
later. He served four non-consecutive
terms in that body before trying his hand at running for Governor of New
York. He failed, but then went on to help
found the University of Buffalo (today a school in the State University of New
York system of colleges). It set the
stage for his return to politics, winning election as the first elected Comptroller
of the state of New York. It was not the
most exciting of positions, one that includes auditing government operations,
reporting on state finances, and similar areas of concern.
Even in what was quite frankly a dull posting in state office, Fillmore
had a certain attractiveness as a national candidate in the election of
1848. By this time, slavery was a fault
line of politics with sides chosen up of “pro” and “anti” points of view. With Zachary Taylor, a Virginia slaveholder,
heading the Whig ticket for President, the party looked for balance and found
it in Fillmore as candidate for Vice President.
Taylor won a relatively close three-way race and began a term that would
be consumed by the slavery debate. As
part of his constitutional duties, Fillmore presided over constant Senate
debate on the subject, a task that would prepare him for the unexpected death
of Taylor in his second year in office and Fillmore’s elevation to the
presidency in July 1850.
The slavery question dominated Fillmore’s agenda. In an abrupt departure from his predecessor’s
preferences, Fillmore advocated for a compromise package pushed in Congress,
what would be known as the “Compromise of 1850.” The five bills making up the Compromise were
signed into law by Fillmore in September of that year. It came at a price, though. Northerners of his own party were in vehement
disagreement with elements of the Compromise, especially the Fugitive Slave
Act, and that opposition was enough to deny Fillmore the nomination of the Whig
Party for President in 1852. The
cleavage in the party damaged the Whigs in the general election, and their
candidate – Winfield Scott – won only four of 31 states and only 42 of 296
electoral votes.
Fillmore ran again in 1856, this time as a member of the Whig-American
Party, but the Whigs had long since dissolved into what would become the
Republican Party and a small remnant under whose banner Fillmore ran. He finished a distant third in voting,
managing less than three percent of the national vote and just eight of 296
electoral votes (Maryland was the only state he won).
That slow steady climb up the ladder, followed by a fall perhaps more a
product of circumstance than his own shortcomings is something that might apply
to Jeff Schultz as well. As a 16-year
old first year defenseman with the Calgary Hitmen in the Western Hockey League,
Schultz played in 50 games with numbers that would not impress anyone – two goals,
three points, a minus-6. He had as many
points as teammate Andy Rogers in twice as many games (hold Rogers’ name in
your mind; we’ll get back to him in a moment).
However, the following season Schultz appeared in 72 games, went
11-24-35, plus-28, leading the team’s defensemen in goals, assists, and total
points, while his plus-28 was third best among all Hitmen skaters. It was a line on his resume that got the
attention of the Capitals, who made Schultz the 27th overall pick of
the 2004 entry draft (three spots ahead of Rogers, who never would play in the NHL and has been out of hockey for six years) and the sixth defenseman
taken in that draft.
That began Schultz’ slow, steady climb up the Caps’ organizational
ladder. After two more years in Calgary
with the Hitmen, Schultz joined the pro ranks in 2006-2007, splitting time
between the Hershey Bears of the AHL (44 games) and the Caps (38 games). Those 38 games with the Caps were not
particularly noteworthy, but for one thing.
Schultz recorded only three assists in those 38 games, but he tied Milan
Jurcina for the best plus-minus among Caps defensemen that season
(plus-5). The following season he set a
personal best in goals (five) and shooting percentage (13.9 percent), marks
which still stand. Two seasons later, as
part of the juggernaut that won the Presidents Trophy and established the
2009-2010 team as the most successful in the regular season in club history
(121 points), Schultz finished with a career high in points (23) and was a
plus-50, the first time a defenseman finished plus-50 or better since Chris
Pronger did it for the St. Louis Blues in 1999-2000 (plus-52). It is worth noting that Pronger won both the
Norris (top defenseman) and Hart (most valuable player) trophies that season. For Schultz, it meant a four-year contract
extension with an average annual value of $2.75 million.
Still, there always seemed to be something in Schultz’ play at odds
with fan perceptions of what he should be like as a player. Roughly the same size as Pronger (6’6”/230
pounds), Schultz was not nearly as fierce or as physical a player as
Pronger. He played like a defenseman
half a foot shorter and 30 pounds lighter, more angles and position than force.
The next season Schultz, caught between what worked for him and a
sizable portion of the fan base who thought him insufficiently tough,
experienced a severe drop in production – one goal, ten points, and a
plus-6. He was sixth among defensemen in
average ice time. It didn’t help that he
sustained a broken thumb that cost him nine games at mid-season. It was the beginning of a quick slide for
Schultz, one that would be much shorter than his climb up the ladder. In 2011-2012 he appeared in just 54 games for
the Caps, posting six points, the fewest he had since his 38-game rookie
season, and he was a minus-2, the first time in his NHL career he found himself
on the “minus” side of the plus-minus ledger.
After the 2012-2013 season, one in which Schultz appeared in just 26
games (0-3-3, minus-6), he was placed on waivers by the Caps and subsequently
bought out of the last year of his contract.
For both Fillmore and Schultz, things seemed to work out after leaving
Washington. Fillmore went on to retire
to Buffalo where he married a wealthy widow and helped found the Buffalo
Historical Society. He also served as
commander of a home guard regiment in upstate New York. By the time of his death in 1874 he was
widely regarded as Buffalo’s leading citizen.
After being bought out by the Caps, Schultz was picked up by the Los
Angeles Kings, and after spending a full season in the AHL with the Manchester
Monarchs, he had spot duty with the Kings in 2014-2015. He even appeared in seven postseason games
for the Kings that season as Los Angeles went on to win the Stanley Cup, his name now engraved on that trophy, a permanent fixture in its history.
Millard Fillmore and Jeff Schultz are men of modest beginnings who
climbed the ladder to considerable heights in their respective
professions. Both experienced an
unfortunate fall from those heights, as much a matter of circumstance as
anything else – the issues pressing on Fillmore’s administration, perceptions
of what sort of player Schultz should be.
They recovered a measure of harmony in new surroundings, although
neither could be said to have a renowned reputation in Washington long after their departures. In that sense it is reasonable to look at
Millard Fillmore and Jeff Schultz and see things in common between them.