John Marino just cashed in, and the Utah Mammoth are the ones writing the check.

News broke Tuesday that the Mammoth are signing their defenseman to an eight-year extension worth 6.75 million dollars a year, according to Puck Empire, citing Elliotte Friedman.

That’s a real raise from the 4.4 million dollar cap hit Marino carried on his previous contract.

He wasn’t the flashiest name on this roster, but he was one of the most trusted.

Marino played 80 games this season, posting 36 points on 4 goals and 32 assists, and finished a plus-43, the kind of quiet number that front offices notice even when fans don’t.

He chipped in a shorthanded goal and a shorthanded assist too, the sort of penalty kill trust that never shows up on a highlight reel.

Over his last 10 games of the season, Marino picked up 3 points and carried a plus-3 rating, steady work from the back end heading into a tough playoff stretch.

Speaking of the playoffs, Utah’s season ended against the Vegas Golden Knights, with Marino chipping in a goal across 6 postseason games before the series slipped away.

Bill Armstrong bets big on a defenseman who does not score

Four goals in 80 games is not the profile you usually hand an eight-year contract to. But general manager Bill Armstrong clearly values what Marino does away from the puck.

Utah finished the regular season 43 and 33 and 6, good for 92 points and a plus-28 goal differential, 15th overall and fourth in the Central Division.

Head coach Andre Tourigny leaned on Marino in all situations, and this deal locks that role in through what will be the back half of his thirties.

That’s where the risk lives. Long-term deals for defensemen who don’t put up offense have a way of aging badly around year six or seven.

Is this the right bet? Marino’s two way game and his penalty kill fingerprints say yes today. Whether it still says yes in 2032 is a different question entirely.

The Mammoth just bought themselves stability on the blue line. Whether they also bought themselves a problem down the road is the part nobody in Salt Lake City wants to talk about yet.