Mark Madden: Longtime Penguins executive, coach Eddie Johnston belongs in Hall of Fame

Halls of Fame have lost much of their significance.

Too many mediocrities get inducted, turning them into Halls of Very Good, or even less. Baseball’s best hitter ever isn’t enshrined at Cooperstown. That discredits the institution, not Barry Bonds.

But if I can make a legit case for somebody who’s been ignored too long, it’s retired Penguins executive and coach Eddie Johnston.

Johnston’s resume is cumulative. It took a while, but he did so much. He should be in the Hockey Hall of Fame.

As a goaltender, he won two Stanley Cups with Boston in 1970 and ’72, an integral part of the mini-dynasty wrought there by Bobby Orr, the best defenseman ever. (Those Bruins might have won more Cups had the upstart World Hockey Association not raided key players.)

Johnston’s finest hour might have been the ’72 playoffs: He went 6-1 with a 1.86 goals-against average and a .926 save percentage. (Johnston was part of a rotation with the also-excellent Gerry Cheevers.)

Johnston was the last goaltender to play every minute of every game in an NHL season: 1963-64, 4,200 straight minutes. He didn’t wear a goalie mask yet. There were only six NHL goalies then. There were six teams and no backups beyond those available if emergency dictated. Today, there are 32 teams and 64 goalies.

Johnston was a member of Team Canada when Canadian pros met Soviet “amateurs” for the first time in 1972.

Johnston wasn’t the best goalie of his era. But he was certainly among them.

His stories are among the best of any era. Like when Orr — Johnston’s closest friend, ironically — put Johnston in a coma for six weeks in 1968 by braining him with a slap shot during warmups. (Johnston was wearing a mask by then.)

Johnston was given last rites. Hall of Fame goaltender Glenn Hall visited Johnston in the hospital, took one look at him, then immediately started wearing a mask. Leeches were administered to alleviate swelling of Johnston’s head.

You read that right: Leeches.

Then Johnston became a coach, renowned for being brilliant on game nights. If you tried to match lines with Johnston, he’d tie you in knots.

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Johnston reinvented the power play during his first Penguins tenure, implementing a series of picks he gleaned by watching basketball and talking to Boston Celtics coach Tommy Heinsohn. Johnston is the best power-play coach ever, period.

In 1980-81, Johnston’s Penguins had the second-most power-play goals in the NHL with 92. The next season, they set a league record with 99, then netted 81 man-advantage tallies in ’82-83.

That power play had mostly average talent. It made Paul Gardner (who?) a star: Gardner scored 59 power-play goals over those three seasons.

As GM, Johnston made sure the Penguins finished last in 1983-84. Never mind how he did it. Johnston made sure. It was must-lose.

So instead of moving to Kansas City, the Penguins drafted Mario Lemieux and forever altered Pittsburgh’s hockey history.

Drafting Lemieux was easy, right? Wrong.

Lemieux was the obvious pick, but Johnston was inundated by crazy trade proposals. Minnesota offered every single one of its draft picks. Quebec dangled all three Stastny brothers, including future Hall of Famer Peter. Montreal came in strong.

That was an era where weak franchises traded to strengthen immediately, however marginally, to stay afloat. The Penguins certainly weren’t above that: To that point, they had traded their first-round choice seven times in 17 years.

There were those in-house who wanted to deal that pick. One scout wanted to draft forward Kirk Muller instead.

But Johnston stood firm. He took Lemieux, then traded for superstar defenseman Paul Coffey in 1987. Johnston laid the championship groundwork.

In 1991, when Johnston was Hartford GM, he traded Ron Francis, Ulf Samuelsson and Grant Jennings to the Penguins for John Cullen, Zarley Zalapski and Jeff Parker. That swap helped the Penguins win Stanley Cups in ’91 and ’92.

But Johnston didn’t necessarily err. At the time, The Hockey News said that Hartford got the better of that deal.

Johnston came back to Pittsburgh as coach from 1993-97.

All told, Johnston coached the Penguins in 516 games and got 232 wins. Both marks were franchise records at one point.

Johnston doesn’t have a classic Hall of Fame resume. But he was part of so many significant events, not least in Pittsburgh.

He has the stories. He has the famous malaprops. Johnston once said Tom Barrasso was sidelined with a “rotary club injury.”

Tough as nails, too: Johnston once took 10 stitches above his eye after getting hit by a puck while coaching a 1996 playoff game. He finished the game.

Hockey was built by men like Johnston. He has the unequivocal respect of everybody in hockey, including all-time greats like Orr, Lemieux and Sidney Crosby. Nobody ever speaks ill.

The Hall of Fame would be honored by Johnston’s inclusion.

I’ve known Johnston, 87, since he was Penguins GM. I’ve learned more about hockey from him than anybody else. When he talks, I listen.

Johnston is famous for explaining his power-play method on restaurant tables using ketchup bottles and salt shakers. I’ve seen it. It’s amazing. A masterclass.