NHL to its 32 head coaches: Shut the (bleep) up!

There they were, all 32 NHL coaches, sitting at tables in a ballroom at the Hyatt Regency in Chicago, a slap shot away from O’Hare International Airport. General managers meet a few times a year to discuss the state of the game and possible rule changes, but this one-day gathering in September also included the league’s head coaches, a rarity.

The vibe was casual. Most of the coaches were dressed in polo shirts, cups of coffee in their hands. Toward the end of the meeting, as some GMs and coaches began to check on early afternoon flight times, Stephen Walkom, the NHL’s senior vice president and director of officiating, began an overview.

He took the coaches and GMs through the origin and execution of the coach’s challenge, the types of penalties that were up and down last season and the genesis of 45-plus rule or standard changes instituted since the 2004-05 lockout. After all, many of the coaches in the room weren’t behind the bench when the changes took place.

Still, many figured there was another reason they were summoned to Illinois on the cusp of training camps, and they were right.

At the end of his presentation, Walkom cued up a video montage, broadcast on TVs around the room, showing roughly 20 clips of the biggest names in the coaching ranks going off on officials. Fists shaken. Fiery red faces. F-bombs flying.

“It was like getting called into the principal’s office and you’re not sure what it’s about until they hit play,” said Dallas Stars coach Pete DeBoer, grinning.

For the coaches, it felt like they were back in their playing days, the hair on the back of their necks standing up as they prayed they wouldn’t be shown blowing up after a bad turnover or missed coverage.

Minnesota Wild coach Dean Evason, for one, kept thinking: I hope they don’t show me motherf—ing the referees. I hope I don’t come up, I hope I don’t come up.

“And,” Evason said with a sheepish laugh, “there I am.”

Paul Maurice, the Florida Panthers coach, “stole the show,” according to DeBoer, using profanity with “world-class” skill.

“I thought his performance was by far the best,” DeBoer said, smiling.

“Actually, they left out a bunch, which I was pleased with,” Maurice said. “They didn’t get some of my finer moments.”

Colorado Avalanche coach Jared Bednar “got lucky” and didn’t appear in the montage but said they could have unearthed some gems. DeBoer also “somehow” escaped scrutiny, but so many others were shown.

The final clip, or mic drop, was of Rick Bowness — he of more than 2,000 games behind an NHL bench — slamming a stick in an outburst two years ago when he was coaching the Stars. As the video wrapped, Bowness, now 68 and with the Winnipeg Jets, commented that in his younger days, he would have been able to snap that stick.

The presentation brought laughter. The GMs loved it. And the league intended the video less as a tongue-lashing and more tongue-in-cheek. But the message was clear, and commissioner Gary Bettman drove the point home, addressing the group after the montage ended. The cameras are always on you as a coach, he emphasized, so tone it down with the officials. Communicate, don’t cuss them out. Having clips of coaches lose their minds all over social media and on TV isn’t what anybody wants.

“When we’re all telling the refs to f— off, it’s not a good visual for the league,” Evason said. “When the camera’s on us and kids and people are watching us and we’re telling people to f— off, screaming, it’s not right. The league’s message was, ‘Sometimes it gets heated, but let’s tone it down.’”

Added DeBoer: “I likened it to being at a family wedding in the summer and overindulging and making a fool of yourself on the dance floor and you convince yourself it wasn’t that bad. Your kids tell you how bad you looked, and you convince yourself it wasn’t that bad — until you actually see it in video.

“The point was taken well by all of us, that we’ve got to control ourselves.”

Colorful exchanges between coaches and officials aren’t a recent phenomenon. There are just so many more cameras capturing them now, and it is so easy to post tirades on social media. But it wasn’t that long ago that refs simply stayed away from coaches who were losing their cool.

“When I started, there were conversations that you absolutely would not want to be caught on a hot mic or camera, for a lip reader,” said retired NHL referee Kerry Fraser, whose career started in the early 1980s and spanned 37 seasons. “Some of it was Triple-X rated. But what we were told back then, and I’m talking in the late ’70s, early ’80s, is that we were to stay away from it, completely. Stay away from the bench.”

Eventually, that changed.

Fraser recalled a crystalizing moment for him in an on-ice interaction with the late Bryan Murray in the 1980s. Murray, then the Washington Capitals coach, was always an emotional coach and later GM.

During one game, when Murray made a scene at the old Cap Centre following a Fraser call, the referee decided to “take a leap of faith.” He skated to the bench, his palms facing out as a sign of peace, then told Murray, “I’d love to have a conversation with you, but to do so, I need you to calm down and get off the boards.”

Fraser explained to Murray why he called the penalty and told him he understood if he didn’t agree.

“Kerry, you’re right about one thing,” Fraser recalled Murray saying. “‘I don’t agree with what you said. But thanks for coming over and talking with me.”

In Murray’s postgame press conference, Fraser said Murray brought up that it was the first time a referee had come over to speak with him.

Those coach-referee interactions became more of a two-way street over time, boosted once players from that era became coaches. Carolina Hurricanes coach Rod Brind’Amour and Chicago Blackhawks coach Luke Richardson, both captains in their playing days, said their experiences talking with referees when they were on the ice helped them better manage the dynamic when they moved to the bench.

“Sometimes, it’s a heated conversation,” Brind’Amour, known as one of the more fiery coaches, said. “They let you blow off some steam and told you when to stop. And if you don’t, you get the extra penalty. It’s not an issue. They know it’s an emotional game. We put a lot into each game, the players and coaches.

“The good officials, which are all of them, they know how to handle it. They let you blow off steam. They come over and say, ‘Have you had enough?’ And if you don’t, they’ll kick you out.”

Richardson is in his second season as an NHL coach after 21 as a player.

“I’ve had tiffs when I was a player,” Richardson said. “You’d go up to them and see them in warmups. You talk and laugh and say, ‘Water under the bridge.’ Sometimes they’ll come up — and Kelly Sutherland is one of the best — he’ll come up to you and say, ‘Hey I missed that. I’ll keep my eyes open. I’m sorry.’”

Motivations for barking at the refs vary. Richardson said he’ll do it to get the officials’ attention and keep his players’ focus on the ice.

“I always remind the players to let us deal with that,” he said. “You stick to the game and play. And referees are probably appreciative that there’s not 20 guys on the bench yelling.”

Brind’Amour said when he gets into it with a referee, it’s because “99 percent of the time I’m right.”

“There’s a reason coaches get upset,” Brind’Amour said. “The broadcasts don’t bring it up. They show a guy losing his mind, but there’s a reason.”