By now, NHL fans know better than to expect any intrigue on the RFA market, but at what point does a lack of offer sheets become collusion and wage suppression?

As NHL fans, we've long since learned better than to expect anything interesting from the restricted free agent market.

By now, we can say with near certainty that offer sheets exist as little more than a feeble grasp at leverage from otherwise powerless restricted free agents.  It's more credible than North American player X's camp saying they're considering offers from European teams but not by much.

As of today, we are inside of a month until the regular season begins, and we still have three unsigned high profile RFAs: Trevor Zegras, Jamie Drysdale, and Shane Pinto.  Zegras stands out amongst that group as a gifted young player who is not just on his way to stardom but in fact already one of the most exciting and marketable stars in the National Hockey League.

You'd think he's the type of player that any general manager with some amount of freedom against the salary cap would be delighted to pursue.  Instead, no serious NHL pundit or prognosticator expects him to sign anywhere but Anaheim, a team that finished dead last in the league table a year ago.

Since July 1st, 50 restricted free agents have agreed to new contracts.  All 50 signed with the team that already controlled their rights.

Since the '04-05 lockout, just 10 players have signed offer sheets and only two of them ended up actually changing teams: Dustin Penner going from Anaheim to Edmonton in 2007 and Jesperi Kotkaniemi going from Montreal to Carolina in 2021 (the other eight offer sheets were matched, and the player stayed at his original home).

Since the '12-13 lockout, just three players have signed offer sheets.

Why does a lack of movement on the restricted free agent market matter?  Because we aren't just talking about an increase in offseason intrigue via greater player movement.  Instead, the obvious farce that is restricted "free agency" is suppressing player wages.

To guarantee yourself UFA status as an NHL player, you must be either 27 or older when your contract expires or have accrued seven NHL seasons.  While their are other avenues to unrestricted free agency (e.g. not receiving a qualifying offer), that means most players spend the early portion of their prime ineligible for true free agency.

Instead, they find themselves with only one true suitor for their services, all but guaranteeing that they earn less than they would on an open market, where different clubs had to bid against one another to sign the player in question.  Whatever number Zegras ends up signing for, you can all but guarantee that number won't be as big as if all 32 teams had a fair chance to bid for him.

There is precedent for professional sports leagues being held to account for this precise form of wage suppression.  

In the mid-to-late 1980s, Major League Baseball had a similar problem.  With free agency itself not quite two decades old, MLB owners decided they were spending too much money on player salaries.  Their solution (reached with ample encouragement from then-commissioner Peter Ueberroth)?  Nobody sign anybody else's free agents.

After the 1985 season, just four of the 35 free agents changed teams.  Stars like Kirk Gibson and Phil Nierko received no offers to change teams.  New York Yankees owner George Steinbrenner offered White Sox catcher (and future Hall-of-Famer) Carlton Fisk a contract, only to withdraw that offer after receiving a phone call from White Sox chairman Jerry Reinsdorf.

In February 1986, the MLB Players Association filed a complaint that would become known as Collusion I.

After the '86 season, once again, just four free agents changed teams.  Andre "The Hawk" Dawson (another future Hall-of-Famer) took a pay cut to remain with the Chicago Cubs.  Stars like Jack Morris of the Detroit Tigers, Tim Raines of the Montreal Expos, and Ron Guidry of the Yankees all stayed put.

In February 1987, the PA filed a second grievance, Collusion II.  The following winter, the story remained the same, and in January 1988, the PA filed a third grievance, Collusion III.

In November of 1990, the owners agreed to pay out $280 million to the PA (which the PA could distribute as it saw fit) as a settlement for the three grievances, acknowledging what everybody paying attention already knew—they had been colluding.

So what's the difference between those collusion cases of the late 80s and the NHL's current lack of RFA movement?

In some sense, the NHL's predicament actually looks more severe.  If we take that four of 35 figure from the 1986 offseason as a bench mark, it's not nearly as extreme as zero of the last 50 NHL RFAs to sign changing teams.  Compared to three offer sheets since 2013, four of 35 signing elsewhere looks like the player empowerment era.

It's worth offering the qualification that the NHL does allow for player movement via unrestricted free agency, but it's difficult to look at the utter lack of offer sheets as anything other than a gentleman's agreement between the league's managers: You don't sign our UFAs, and we won't sign yours.  Maybe it's more about roster management than wage suppression, but we are witnessing the latter effect nonetheless.

To this end, it's also worth noting that the RFA that sent Kotkaniemi from Montreal to Carolina was very obviously revenge for Montreal's attempt to poach Sebastian Aho from Carolina via offer sheet two years prior.  Carolina's statement announcing the Kotkaniemi deal borrowed straight from the language Montreal had used to announce Aho before the Canes matched.  The sense of revenge could not have been less subtle.  It was the most public the apparent gentleman's agreement not to sign RFAs has ever been.

So, when push comes to shove, the biggest difference between the plight of '80s MLB players and current NHL RFAs is a willingness of the relevant players association to fight that order.

At least for now, we've heard nothing that would suggest the NHLPA is doing anything to disrupt the current reality of the RFA marketplace.  The MLB owners would have continued to get away with their gambit for as long as they were permitted to do so without interruption.  It was the MLBPA's series of grievances that forced their hand.  Until the NHLPA stands up to fight a similar battle, the union's RFAs will continue to fall short of the wages they would merit on an open market.