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<UID>
9701150057
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
970523
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Friday, May 23, 1997
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
NWS
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1A
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<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo GABRIEL B. TAIT/Detroit Free Press
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>



Detroit's Igor Larionov, center, is congratulated by Brendan
Shanahan and Martin  Lapointe after scoring his second goal of
the first period Thursday night. More in Sports, Page 1C.
</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1997, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
RED WINGS 6, AVALANCHE 0
ONE MORE -- THEN ROAR
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
Now finish it.

Oh, I know the more popular song this morning is the sweet chorus of
Thursday night's spectacular down at Joe Louis Arena, where the Red Wings so
dominated the defending Stanley  Cup champions Colorado Avalanche you'd have
thought Patrick Roy was closing his eyes every time Detroit shot. It was fun.
It was loud. It was the perfect date, the jackpot, the night when your team
looks  better than any team in the world. One-sided? The score was 6-0.
Efficient? The Wings didn't even use Canadians to score until the fifth goal.

 
  But the local lads are not done storming the castle,  folks, not until they
win one more, and when they wake up this morning in the Rocky Mountain air,
their first thought should not be yesterday but tomorrow.

  Finish it.

  Trust me. Great teams don't  get hypnotized by their success -- even as
much success as the Wings had in Game 4, and there was enough for a dozen Zig
Ziglar seminars. No, great teams kill the snake when they have it by the
throat.  And, man, does it look like the Wings have the Avs by the throat. The
Colorado players have lost their edge. The coach may have lost his mind. (Last
I saw Marc Crawford, he was yelling at Steve Yzerman, perhaps the first person
to do that since Steve's mom.)

  You can't even call this team the Avalanche because the way it's playing,
Avalanche is a misnomer. The Pebbles. The Snowflakes, maybe.

 But where was the Avalanche? The Colorado players came into Thursday night
talking a lot of trash and went home tying to remove their skates from their
mouths. Their mighty offense managed two shots  in the first period. Their
penalty-killing units -- remember when they used to brag about those? -- gave
up two more power-play scores.

  And Roy, their trump card, their all-world goalie, the biggest  talker
before the game, was yanked after the second period, presumably for his own
mental health. Wings fans, stuck with an understudy, began perhaps the most
unlikely chant ever heard in Detroit: "WE  WANT ROY! WE WANT ROY!"

  Avalanche? The only thing I saw rolling downhill was the memory of this
team as champion.

  But, having said that, I have to say this: It is not over, not until
there's  one more blue light on one more winning scoreboard.

  The Wings know this. And if they're truly a team of destiny, they will play
like it, too.

A night of stars

  Now I'm not trying to downplay  the Game 4 performance. You don't get too
many shows like this in the conference finals. It was Evander
Holyfield-Richard Simmons. It was Godzilla-Scooby Doo. At different points,
the Wings had shots-on-goal  leads of 14-2, 19-3 and 38-16.

  No matter what Colorado tried, things kept coming out Detroit's way. Every
bounce. Every pass. Even a loose door near the Colorado bench -- which caused
a 13-minute  delay, and gave the Avs a much-needed rest -- didn't help their
cause. The Wings skated out from that delay and put two more pucks in the net.

  The door might have been symbolic. The Avs are unhinged.

  You saw it in the dumb penalties they took early and the desperate fights
they initiated late. You saw it in the screaming vitriol Crawford unleashed at
Wings coach Scotty Bowman.

  "The story of  the game wasn't the fights after it," Bowman said. "Don't
take away from the play on the ice."

  "Are you surprised at how you're dominating?" he was asked.

  "Nothing surprises me in this game."

  Well. He might be the only one. If someone had predicted a 6-0 victory by
Detroit to take a 3-1 lead in this series, well, the next thing that person
would predict would be trouble in Frank and Kathie  Lee's marriage.

  Oops.

  A word here about several of Thursday's stars: Igor Larionov deserved a
night like this. He hasn't always been in the right place at the right time.
He played for the Soviet's  Red Army team when doing so meant lowering your
head before a dictator coach. When he refused, he was punished.

  Then he came to the NHL and landed first in Vancouver, a team without much
chance,  then in San Jose, a team with no chance.

  Finally, he came to Detroit. And finally, Detroit took him to Thursday
night, and Thursday night took him to two goals in the first period. The first
was  a ricochet off a Colorado player's stick. The second came to him via two
teammates. Another night, the puck isn't there so easily. Another night, it
bounces the other way.

  This was not another night.  This was Igor's night. He swung, the puck
lifted past Roy, and the building went wild. Two goals. The cushion. It
couldn't happen to a more important, unassuming, 36-year-old player.

  And how about  goalie Mike Vernon? True, much of the night he was as lonely
as the Maytag repairman. He could have hung an "out-to-lunch" sign on the net
during the first period and the score wouldn't have changed.  But whenever the
Avs even poked their head near his cave, he walloped their shots as if playing
one of those whack-a-mole games. Vernon earned his first shutout of these
playoffs and the fifth of his  career.

  For so many years, the Wings'  playoffs road was shaken by the presence of
the proverbial "hot goaltender."

  Finally, he seems to be in a Detroit uniform.

  There was also the continued  intense play of Sergei Fedorov (goal,
assist), the excellent penalty killing of Yzerman, two goals by Kirk Maltby --
who had but one career playoff goal entering the game -- and the wonderful
taste for  the net that Slava Kozlov has developed. He went one-on-one with
Roy and schooled the most heralded goalie in hockey. Drew him right, cut left,
then lifted the puck between Roy's stick and his body.  Kozlov has eight goals
in the playoffs. He's like Cris Carter in the NFL. All he does is score.

Ultimate victory

  Now finish it. The Wings are one victory away from reaching the second
chance at  the Cup they have so coveted since losing to New Jersey two years
ago. It's close enough to sniff, it's maddeningly close, but they should think
only about Colorado. Every champion will tell you the  hardest game to win is
the closer. The Wings have pushed the Avs to the ledge. Now they must push
them off. Not later. Not sometime in the next three games. Not when they come
back home to Joe Louis.  Now. Next game. Saturday night. End it.

  Because here is their advantage of the moment: The Avs are worried about
losing their crown. Their coach is unnerved. Their goalie is unnerved. They
have never  faced this before. Remember, they came to Denver, got Roy, went
right to the top and never looked back. They haven't lost a playoff series
since they became the Avalanche. Consequently, there is no telling how they'll
play when such a loss dangles over their heads.

  Some teams collapse. Some fear failure more than they covet winning. If the
Avs are susceptible to that -- and it sure looks that way --  the Wings should
stick it to them. Finish them off.

  After Thursday, it's the only thing they haven't done.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
SPT; HOCKEY; RED WINGS; AVALANCHE; PLAYOFF; GAME
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
