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<UID>
9501210749
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
950608
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Thursday, June 08, 1995
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo Color JULIAN H. GONZALEZ
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>


:
Captain  Steve Yzerman skates Wednes day at the United Center
in Chicago. It remains to be seen whether he'll be on the ice
versus the Black hawks tonight.
</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1995, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
WILL CAPTAIN BE THERE WHEN SHIP COMES IN?
</HEADLINE>
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</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
CHICAGO --  When the moment comes, he should be out there. Whenever the
Red Wings jump into that glorious pile at center ice, hugging and pounding
each other's helmets and yelling, "Finals, baby!  We're going to the finals!"
-- he should be right in the middle of it. Tonight, or Sunday, or whenever. He
has earned this. He is the captain.

  Instead, he spends the morning on an exercise bike in  an Ontario Street
health club, where women in leotards are taking aerobic classes and men in
colored sweats are struggling on the StairMasters. None of them even notices
Steve Yzerman. He pedals and  he zones out -- "I'm like a zombie," he says --
trying yet again to drag his body up to performance level.

  Most professional athletes will tell you the first time you make the
championships, the  first time you chin up over the bar and see what you've
been missing, is one of the indelible moments in your career. You remember it
when you're 80.
  "I've thought about that moment a lot," Yzerman  says. "I really want to
be a part of it."
  He allows a small laugh.
  "I've always wanted to be a part of it."
  It is hours before the Red Wings' practice. Yzerman, who has been out since
the  previous round of the playoffs, is already in the locker room at the
United Center, trying different pads for his knee, bracing them around the
sore spot. He has a decision to make, he and Scotty Bowman:  go for common
sense, or go for the dream? Common sense would say the captain is too valuable
to risk injury when the Wings lead this conference championship series, 3-0.
Rest him. It's not crucial.  Better to have him completely healthy for the
finals, right?
  Ah, but the dream. The dream says Steve Yzerman has been here 12 seasons,
longer than any of his teammates. He has been through every  lousy
coach-changing, player-trading, headline- making maneuver this franchise has
made. He has been patient and polite -- even in years when the Wings collapsed
in the playoffs, or missed them altogether.  Now, for the first time in three
decades, they are about to enter the Promised Land. How can he not be out
there?
  Yzerman thinks, purses his lips, and does what he often does in situations
like this.  He shrugs.
If not on ice, Yzerman's out of place
  "It's been strange watching these games," he admits, adjusting the pads on
the right knee that he injured 12 days ago. "The first night, I was watching
at Joe Louis in the locker room, and I had just finished working out, and, in
between regulation and overtime, I got some pizza. I had just bit into a slice
when Nick (Lidstrom) made that shot. Everyone came running in, and I was
spitting pizza all over the place."
  The second game he watched from the press box -- "to get a better view." He
was dressed in a suit, and by the time he got downstairs,  the team was again
celebrating. He looked a little distanced, and no doubt he felt it, too.
  On Tuesday night, here in Chicago, he watched from a booth, and he kept
rising with each of the Wings'  dramatic chances. When Vladimir Konstantinov
fluttered the puck past Ed Belfour in the second overtime, Yzerman pumped a
fist and jumped.
  "For you, that's pretty emotional," I say.
  He smiles.  "Believe me, I was very happy inside." 
  Still, players don't live on the inside, they live on the outside, in the
sweat and heat and action. Yzerman wants to feel that. He is tired of always
being  the injury story. He is tired of "When will you practice? When will you
play?" He is tired of the hyperbaric chamber.
  He was playing great when he got hurt. Now he fights not to jump out of his
skin  when the Wings score. If his Detroit career has taught him anything --
and remember, it spans Nick Polano, Harry Neale, Brad Park, Jacques Demers,
Bryan Murray and Scotty Bowman -- it's this: patience.
A  cup of wisdom from Coffey
  "I guess I always thought I'd get to a Stanley Cup final," says the
30-year-old center who, once upon a time, was the fourth pick in the NHL
draft. "But to be honest, I  didn't know if it would be here."
  Two years ago he was so tired of season-ending disappointments and nasty
rumors he actually thought of asking for a trade rather than worrying about
it.
  "I  never did it. I went to (Paul) Coffey and talked to him. He said,
'Don't force anything. Let it be. Things usually work out better that way.' "
  Yzerman listened. He cares about this team, even more  than he shows. He
no longer swallows his words, but he still chooses them carefully. He still
wears his stardom like a stiff new suit that makes him squirm. Once he was the
only All-Star the Wings had.  Now he's part of a glittering cast.
  That's fine. All he wants is to be part of what he has watched
contemporaries like Wayne Gretzky, Mario Lemieux and Mark Messier be a part
of, year after year,  summer after summer. He wants that moment. He speaks for
both his team and his city when he says, "We've stumbled and taken so many
hits. It's great that we're getting some respect."
  He should be  out there. Shouldn't he? Not eating pizza, not shuffling his
feet in dress shoes. Out there. Scotty Bowman and staff, naturally, will not
take any foolish chances. Neither will the captain.
  But  a voice inside tells me tonight could be a truly big night in Red
Wings history.  And if Steve Yzerman isn't in the middle of the pile, loosing
himself in laughter, something will truly be missing.
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