Forget about Feb. 2, the day Cory Clouston was officially hired as the Ottawa Senators' interim head coach.

Clouston's welcome to the NHL is only coming now, as he learns the hard way just how much power star players such as Dany Heatley hold in their hands.

Eventually, Heatley will get his own way and will be traded away from the Senators. Although he hasn't spoken about his reasons, it is understood he was upset that his ice time decreased after Clouston replaced former coach Craig Hartsburg.

It's justifiable to label him as greedy, selfish and ungrateful for asking to be traded with five years remaining on the contract extension he signed in October 2007. The deal included a no-movement clause, designed to protect him from an unwanted move.

Heatley, however, is hardly the first star to dictate his own terms.

The National Hockey League -- and all major professional sports leagues -- allow it to happen routinely because they dote on their stars. Desperate to sell tickets, to keep marquee names away from their competition and to win immediately, teams increasingly allow star players to control their future destinations. In addition to the outrageous salaries, teams generally allow their top players to include no-trade clauses in their contracts. During the 2008-09 season, 119 NHL players had some form of a no-trade or no-movement clause.

"The game now is totally in the players' hands," says Terry Crisp, who coached the Calgary Flames to the 1989 Stanley Cup and was also the original coach of the Tampa Bay Lightning.

"When you look around the league at some of the deals the general managers are giving out, I just don't know how they can justify those contracts to their owners, saying that they must be giving guys seven years and $35 million U.S., and no-movement clauses."

Crisp, now a colour commentator during Nashville Predators broadcasts, says he understands players are going to take what they're given. Yet, once general managers and owners started allowing players to write their own tickets to security and/or freedom, he says they gave away some of the control they had in dictating the future of their teams.

"There can't be that much of a player shortage," Crisp says. "Periodically, you're going to hit a home run, but I would say, maybe in seven out of 10 cases, (the big contracts) don't work out. Everybody's afraid to say it, they're always skirting the issue, but when it doesn't work out, what do they do? Well, they fire the coach."

There have been 25 head coaching changes in the NHL since June 2007. Considering how quickly changes are made, it's no surprise players believe they are in charge.

Crisp acknowledges he was lucky to coach in the era he did. When he won the Cup in '89, he says Calgary's payroll was between $7 million and $10 million. (Heatley made $10 million himself last season.) Without salary disclosure in those days, players weren't sure what their rivals, or even their teammates, were making. It was easier for owners and general managers to sell players a message about sticking together to create long-term success. There was more internal pressure on players to stay with their organization. It was a golden era for management, particularly for the strongest teams, which also explains why the Montreal Canadiens, New York Islanders and Edmonton Oilers were able to have extended Stanley Cup runs.

"I realize, when I look back, how much the players controlled their own dressing room. If they tried to bitch about me in the room, some of the leaders would take over, saying, 'Crisp is only the coach. It's up to us.' Now, the players seem to close ranks ... . There are very few players willing to stand up and support the coach."

That's the new NHL world for coaches such as Clouston, whom general manager Bryan Murray says was "devastated" by the Heatley developments.

As a successful coach in the American Hockey League and in junior, Clouston effectively controlled players' futures. If they didn't buy into his approach, they didn't play. Accordingly, there was less chance to get noticed and be promoted if they didn't accept his methods.

Clouston arrived in Ottawa with an interim attached to his the coaching title, guaranteed nothing more than to be with the Senators until the end of the season. He needed to win, immediately, to earn the trust of Murray, owner Eugene Melnyk, the players and the fans.

While Hartsburg was roundly criticized for not making the stars accountable for sub-par efforts earlier in the season, Clouston wasn't afraid to sit down veterans Heatley, Jason Spezza, Daniel Alfredsson or Jason Smith if he felt he could get more out of others. When he arrived, he freely admitted he wasn't in the business to be popular. Winning was his objective.

He was largely a success, posting a record of 19-11-4, numbers that helped convince at least some players to swallow their pride in order to accommodate Clouston's approach. Heatley obviously wasn't one of them.

No-trade deals give today's stars security and control, but it's not always the contract that puts players in the driver's seat. Sometimes, they are guaranteed security because of a cosy relationship with the owners of their clubs. That was the case with New York Islanders owner Charles Wang and former centre Alexei Yashin.

The Islanders signed Yashin, the former Senators malcontent, to a 10-year, $87.5 million deal after he was traded to the Islanders in 2001. Yashin reportedly played tennis with Wang on a regular basis. Even though he was impossible to motivate and his huge contract prevented the Islanders from making major moves, the franchise burned through six head coaches before finally buying out Yashin (for $17.6 million) in 2007.

Wang's favourite is now goaltender Rick DiPietro, who was signed to a 15-year, $67.5-million contract in 2006. After two injury-laden seasons, DiPietro looks like a stock market investment gone horribly wrong.

"The (owners) become the friends of star players, and sometimes the general manager becomes a friend, too," said a former NHL coach. "The GM feels that if the owner is a player's buddy, then he has the sense that he has to become his buddy, too. The coach never talks to the owner. If the GM is talking to the owner every day, you, as the coach, are (out of luck). You're stuck in the middle."

Crisp agrees.

"Once a general manager starts having dinner with a player, the coach is dead in the water. You can only dodge the bullet for so long before it's going to hit you between the eyes."

After being fired by the Tampa Bay Lightning last season, former coach Barry Melrose said he couldn't do his job without interference from above. He was deemed to be too hard on star centre Vincent Lecavalier and rookie Steve Stamkos.

"I was hired to coach, and I coached," he said. "I wasn't playing the right guys. I was playing certain guys too much, I wasn't playing other guys enough. Every day was a constant battle. Finally, the guys in charge decided they wanted to coach and they got rid of me. That's what it comes down to."

Coaches generally understand that stars will always be allowed to stray from the team concept, both because of their name and their potential to make a fantastic play from nothing.

"All the players know that there are certain players who can have more freedom, for sure," said a current Western Conference coach. "If you're a third-line plumber, no, you don't have that luxury. The role players know they have to accept that. The coach has to gauge all of that and not let it get out of hand. That stuff can become so detrimental to team play. You can't constantly be making turnovers, trying to go through three or four guys yourself. That stuff hurts the team, it's stuff that can't be allowed to happen. You have to hold the (top guys) as accountable as possible."

Clouston did precisely that when he replaced Hartsburg. The end goal is always to motivate the stars to accept that they aren't larger than the team, to show them that everyone benefits in the long run. The coach can't control a player's salary, but he can dictate his ice time.

If the star player doesn't adopt new habits or whines about being asked to do what everyone else is doing, a team faces a dilemma, according to the Western Conference coach.

"It becomes an organizational decision," he said. "Can we win the Stanley Cup with this guy and his personality? The coach and the general manager work together, they're all well-informed and they talk about how to handle those guys. If they're given so much freedom and too much rope, it just doesn't work."

The former NHL coach says Heatley has become a classic case of a player wanting out because his ego has been bruised for not being placed in situations where he could be the star attraction.

"Clouston was using Heatley as the fourth, fifth, sixth shooter in the shootout and on the second power-play unit," he said, referring to the fact that Heatley is a career 3-for-19 since the shootout was put in after the lockout. "Star players evaluate their games on ice time. It's not necessarily how many minutes, it's the quality of those minutes. If you're on the second power play, you might only get on the ice for 30 seconds."

He also says a no-trade clause is a one-way street that can quickly run downhill if a player chooses to act the way Heatley has.

"What the no trade really means is, 'I will let you trade me wherever I want to go,'" he said. "These days, these guys know they're going to make their money, because there's always at least one crazy owner willing to pay. To me, if you put it into negotiations that you don't want to go anywhere, then you shouldn't go anwhere. Where's the value of loyalty?"