GOING, GOING...
Gone are realistic -- okay, ANY -- thoughts of a stunning
first-round upset. At this point, Anaheim would just like to make
it look respectable. Sure, everybody's saying the right things. You
know, "It's not over yet." "You've still got to win four games."
"We're not throwing in the towel here." And from Detroit's side,
"The last win is always the toughest."
But let's face facts. The Ducks have been dominated for seven of
nine periods in their opening series against the two-time defending
Stanley Cup champions. One of the periods the Ducks "won" came when
Game Two was already decided (the final stanza, with Detroit ahead
5-0). The other was the opening period of Game Three, when --
despite a soft opening goal allowed by Guy Hebert -- Anaheim
carried a 2-1 lead to the locker room, giving the locals a ray of
hope.
Detroit regrouped to earn their 3-0 series lead, however,
capitalizing on a favorable call and a stupid penalty. The call
came when referees Mick "Mr." McGeough and Don Koharski allowed a
Tomas Holmstrom goal to stand despite replays showing the puck was
batted in from above (although barely) the crossbar. That evened
the score just 1:51 into the second period. But, by Craig
Hartsburg's admission, that play wasn't the turning point of the
game.
The turning point came about a minute later, when Stu Grimson took
his third and final shift of the game. With Travis Green about to
be waved off for elbowing, Grimson creamed Kris Draper into the
boards from behind, drawing a five-minute major and a match penalty
for attempt to injure. When Draper finally got up -- and I'm not
saying he was acting or anything, although he did skate a regular
shift the rest of the way -- the Wings had a two-man advantage for
a full two minutes, and a regular power play for another three.
The two-man was all they needed. Steve Yzerman popped his fifth goal
of the series a minute-twenty in, and Detroit was on top for good.
Slava Kozlov added his first goal near the start of the third
period, and the demoralized Ducks played the rest of the game
before a typically silent Anaheim crowd.
FANS? WHAT FANS?
Oh, you mean the Detroit fans. Yeah, they make some noise during the
games, both at home and on the road. And while Anaheim fans do get up
the energy to boo when chants of "Let's Go Wings!" erupt from the
red-and-white clad among them, they otherwise sit silently by as the
game goes on. Sure, they cheer when the scoreboard puts up that phony
noisemeter (How proud they must be to see it peak in the red zone!)
or when they correctly guess the outcome of the Mighty Puck Shuffle,
or some other inane in-arena entertainment distraction (Oh look! The
Raplh's blimp is dropping coupons good for a discount on frozen
seafood!). But a spontaneous chant of "Let's Go Ducks" when offense
is required? A hearty chorus of "Dee- fense" when Anaheim is on the
kill? Dream on.
Coming down the stretch, Teemu Selanne exhorted the crowd to provide
a little atmosphere; to show a little spirit to help lift the team.
But it fell on deaf ears, which, unfortunately, would hear the exact
same level of fan support at The Pond that hearing ears do.
I don't take this statement lightly - I'm cognizant of the fact that
Anaheim fans started from zero on the hockey learning curve -- and
I've waited six years to see if things improved, but these folks are
the undisputed worst fans in hockey.
In San Jose, where the word "hapless" has almost annually been used
in tandem with the word "Sharks," enthusiastic sellout crowds have
made their arena among the loudest in hockey. In Carolina, where
hockey is as foreign a concept as snowboarding, fans have loudly
embraced their Connecticut transplants.
It's a shame that here in Southern California, where two of the
world's very best players ply their trade, fans can't get up for
anything but between-periods entertainment. The last time they did?
That would be in 1997, when Ron Wilson publicly told the fans that
if (on their second attempt) they wanted to have an actual
"white-out," they would have to -- duh -- wear white.
TWO BLIND MICE
The NHL's attempt to do right by utilizing a two-ref system in the
playoffs has, by my account, proven futile. Less so in the
Anaheim-Detroit series than in others, two refs choosing not to
make calls have merely doubled the frustration of one ref choosing
not to make calls. Which just goes to show it's not the number of
men in stripes that matters. It's the men themselves, and the
orders they take (or ignore) from the league office.
And for this year, we're changing "Donut" Don Koharski's nickname to
"Do Not" (as in, make a call) Don Koharski. But fear not, it's a
temporary thing: "Donut" will live forever.
BUT WHY?
Keys to the Anaheim's impending defeat will be examined in our next
issue. For now, the words Chelios, Lidstrom, Shanahan and Yzerman
should give you food for thought.
