8901150968
DETROIT FREE PRESS
890414
Friday, April 14, 1989
METRO FINAL CHASER
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1989, Detroit Free Press
WINGS PUT OUT OF MISERY
FINAL HORN PLAYS TAPS ON SADDEST OF SEASONS
CHICAGO -- They died slowly, inevitably, much to the delight of the
howling Chicago crowd. The magic was deserting Greg Stefan, the magic was
deserting Steve Yzerman, the magic was deserting Jacques Demers. The Red
Wings were losing badly in the first round of the playoffs, and suddenly,
trying hard was not enough, believing was not enough. The deafening fog horn
that is the signature of this rickety stadium blew strong and loud after
every wild Chicago goal and finally, at 11:29 Thursday night, it sounded the
good-bye moan, almost mercifully, for this most difficult Detroit hockey
season.
They go home now? They go home.
"What day is it, April 15 or something?" Yzerman would sigh after the Wings
lost, 7-1, surrendering this playoff in six games. "Last year we were still
playing on May 15. I don't think we're going to realize what happened here
for a few days."
When they do, they will not forget it. It was sad, and perhaps an
unavoidable end to a season that was star-crossed from Day 1. They had come
to this city clinging to their confidence, reminding themselves who they were
and what they had once done. But three goals in the second period suddenly
choked their last hope, threw dirt on them, left them gasping for air.
Chicago? They were being blown out by Chicago? In the first round? Really?
Chicago?
Yes. Chicago. And the snapshots of defeat were all over the place. Here
was Steve Chiasson lying flat on the ice, injured, after a vicious check to
the boards. Here was Yzerman giving his stick to Gilbert Delorme (who had
broken his) and trying desperately to play naked, slapping the puck away with
his hand, only to see Chicago come back moments later and score anyhow. Here
was the Blackhawks' Steve Larmer flipping a goal between Stefan's legs -- 2-1
Chicago -- and then, just 26 agonizing seconds later, Wayne Presley, who grew
up in the Detroit suburbs, for Pete's sake, backhanding the puck past Stefan,
3-1. Before the night was over, Presley would have three goals, the hat
trick, and the Wings would be buried in black hats, flying onto the ice like
bullets.
"It's going to be a long summer," said Stefan afterward, "and not very much
fun."
They go home now?
They go home.
In a way, this is a stunning upset -- the full effect may not be realized
for days, maybe weeks. Yet in other ways, you could almost feel it coming.
Wasn't this a dark-side season from the start for Detroit? Didn't you hear
whispers and mumbles about this team all winter long: "I don't know about
them. . . . They're not the same. . . . All that off-ice controversy. . . . "
Demers had been worried about this team much earlier than Thursday night.
Two months ago, two weeks ago, he repeated the same theme; we're not playing
defense the way we should. I am concerned. He tried to give the appropriate
pep talks. He rallied the team before the final period of Game 5 Tuesday,
telling them, "You don't want to go home and play golf now. . . . Nobody in
Detroit will want to talk to you anyhow." It worked.
Once.
"Are you surprised with this defeat?" Demers was asked Thursday after the
game.
"No," he said, "disappointed, yes. Surprised, no. We never had the right
chemistry, not from the very start. This was a team that was never at peace
with itself."
It has five months to rest now. And so be it, because the truth is, this
was a season that needed to be completely erased to be overcome. Sure, the
Bob Probert and Petr Klima problems had been wrapped up by the playoffs. But
their effects lingered. The unhappiness of the regular season -- "There were
times when you really didn't feel like coming down to the arena," admitted
Stefan -- had slowed the Wings like a sore hamstring, and they were trying to
run anyway.
"There are a lot of guys in here," Chiasson said, glancing around the
locker room, "who are going 'Whew!' right now. We can use the summer to
regroup."
Still, how sad for the guys on this team, who tried so hard all year to
overcome the bad news, to rise above the antics of Probert, whose arrest at
the border for alleged cocaine smuggling in March ended a sordid saga that had
hung around the Wings' necks, heavy as a tombstone. How sad for the likes of
Yzerman, who had a career year, bouncing back from a knee injury. And for Adam
Oates, who stepped out of Yzerman's shadow to play starring hockey. And for
Chiasson, who has developed into a bright young star. And for Rick Zombo and
Dave Barr and Gerard Gallant and for Stefan and Glen Hanlon, who had to handle
the onslaught of offense without a strong defense -- or a Probert -- to
protect them.
They deserved better, if only for effort, if only for the fact that they
did win the Norris Division. Instead, here is what they got: Klima ejected in
the third period for high sticking. Stefan benched for the third period, with
Hanlon unable to deliver any miracles. A Chicago defense that limited them to
only 19 shots on goal. The Chicago fans were unmerciful, they tossed hats,
trash, even a big black balloon was tossed on the ice. At one point, a
Chicago fan knocked a beer over into the open press box -- dousing Mike
Ilitch, the Wings' owner.
We go home now.
What will come of all this? Changes, for sure. "Certain players will be
traded," Demers admitted. "Certain guys have gotten complacent here in
Detroit. It's a great place to work. But we need to start from the beginning
next year. We need to open training camp on a different note with some
different people."
Exit finesse and one-dimensional players. Enter tougher players with better
defense.
Here to stay: the memories of a first-round defeat.
How did it happen, people will ask? How could they lose to Chicago, a team
with only 66 points during the regular season? People will point to the loss
of Probert, and yes, the lack of toughness helped take the Wings down in this
series. Chicago played as if the class bully was suddenly absent from school.
The Wings played, at times, like the kid who realized he was outnumbered and
a long way from home. Combine that with a hot goalie (Alain Chevrier), one
overtime heartache (Game 2), two bad games (3 and 6) and presto. You've got a
series.
"Chicago reminded me," Oates added glumly, "a little bit of us two years
ago."
That about says it all.
Thus ends the season of our discontent, a tumble off the rainbow for this
once-Cinderella team that began, really, with a drinking incident last May in
Edmonton and ended with that deathly horn Thursday night. In between there has
been disillusion, disfavor, discord and disgust. Good guys were ignored, bad
guys were overplayed, and it seemed the lights were always glaring on this
team. They could never escape their shadows.
And in the end, that was all they had left to look at as the time ran out
on the Chicago Stadium scoreboard. Three. Two. One. The announcer talked about
Chicago playoff tickets. The fans were singing "NA-NA-NA-NA. . . ." And here
came that sound, no doubts, no questions. We go home now. That fog horn means
someone else's ship has just come in.
COLUMN;REACTION;DREDWINGS;PLAYOFF;LOSS;END;Red Wings