<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9701140519
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
970517
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Saturday, May 17, 1997
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1B
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1997, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
CAPTAIN MUST PUT BISCUIT IN BASKET
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
DENVER --  Steve Yzerman leaned against the locker room wall and looked
away from the reporters asking him questions, as if the answers might be at
their feet or over their shoulders.

He said  Game 1 was close. He said the Wings had their chances. He said,
"We just have to relax, not change too much."

 
  But he grimaced with each answer, as if he hated talking about the whole
thing. And if  I had one wish for the Red Wings tonight, it would be that,
when it was over, Yzerman would be talking about the play he made to change or
win the game -- and not why yet another Colorado evening didn't  work out the
way he wanted.

  The other day, I read a story about Yzerman written by the Free Press'
Jason La Canfora. It talked about how the Captain has improved his defense.
How he'll sacrifice  for the little things, like diving to block shots.

  It also pointed out that he is far down the Wings' list of goal-scorers in
the playoffs.

  Right now, I'd trade that one thing for all of the  above.

  Here's why: playing hard is wonderful, but more and more, in this playoff
time of year, you see the teams that advance are the ones whose big stars walk
through fire. I watch Michael Jordan  in the fourth quarter, studying the
action like a general looking through his binoculars. Then he takes over. He
could be 0-for-20 up to that point, but you simply know he is going to do it
when it counts.

  I see the same thing in Tim Hardaway of the Miami Heat. I see it at times
with Patrick Ewing of the Knicks. I see it in Philly's Eric Lindros now, and,
to a degree, with the rejuvenated Wayne Gretzky  in New York.

  And -- quite painfully -- I see it almost every time I watch Joe Sakic and
Peter Forsberg and Claude Lemieux in the playoffs. They flame on when the game
is in crucial mode.

  And  right or wrong, I find myself looking for that from the Red Wings
captain.

  Hey, Nineteen.  This is the moment.

Always a great guy

  Now, I have known Yzerman for more than a decade. And I think  so much of
him -- he is as good, decent and hard-working an athlete as I have ever met --
 that I confess a hesitancy to criticize him in any way. He has suffered the
down years with this franchise,  and he gave away barrels of youth and speed
in years when three Steve Yzermans couldn't have lifted his lowly hockey club.

  I've seen him cut down by injuries in the playoffs. I've seen him play
through  pain so severe it would wipe out most of us.

  But I also have seen a lot of sports, and this one thing seems to be true
in all of them: It's a team game, but it's also Follow The Leader. And
championship teams follow the one or two guys who run up the hill in the midst
of all the danger, and yell over their shoulders, "This way! Do what I'm
doing!"

  Yzerman tries to do this now with sweaty effort,  chipping at the puck,
defense, blocking shots. But let's be honest: He isn't out there to block
shots. And he's not a defenseman. He's a forward who gets big minutes and is
on the power plays because,  first and foremost, he is a playmaker and a
scorer -- second only to Gordie Howe on the Wings' all-time list.

  And the surest way for this team to rise is for him to play up to his
reputation.

  Did you watch Sakic on Thursday night? He hadn't been playing great. But as
soon as Detroit took a 1-0 lead, who came whisking down the ice and whipped a
wrist shot past Mike Vernon, just 27 seconds  after the Wings had celebrated? 

  Sakic did. It wasn't the goal; it was the timing. Colorado needed to hear
the trumpet call. Their captain rose to blow it.

  I'd love to see Yzerman -- with no  goals against the Avalanche in six
playoff games -- hoist his performance, that way. Maybe it's impossible. Maybe
he plays every night at his peak level, and there isn't another "gear" to
shift to.

  But if there is, now's his time. Because losing tonight means the daunting
task of beating Colorado four times in five tries. That's not likely.

  And if the Wings don't beat the Avalanche this year,  you have to wonder
what happens next. Scotty Bowman could be gone. Vernon could be gone. The
Russian Five could be the Russian Three. In the time it takes to circle back
and reload, Yzerman's best chance  at a Stanley Cup could be gone. 

It's now or never

  Critics say Yzerman has lost a step. That he cuts in nicely, but ends up
going wide, or being ridden down by a defenseman, that the shot he ultimately
puts on goal is rarely a hard or threatening one. One Colorado scout told me,
"He's still great, but he can't finish the way he used to."

  Well, we'll see how he finishes. Maybe Yzerman only has three  goals this
postseason. Maybe he is getting older.  (He is 32, and in his 14th NHL
season.)

  But deep inside the heart of every great player is the knowledge of what it
takes to jump the fire. And  even those who haven't done it for a while --
witness Gretzky -- can dig down and find it one last time.

  If it's there, then don't hold it back. The Wings' fans need to rise the
way Avalanche fans  rise whenever Sakic streaks down the ice. They do it
because their No. 19 can make the difference. You want to believe Detroit's
can, too. Now's the time. Now is really the time.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN; HOCKEY; STEVE  YZERMAN
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
