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<UID>
9810230239
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
981023
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Friday, October 23, 1998
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT; SPORTS
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1E
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<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1998, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
WHAT SMITH AND LEWIS DID WAS BEYOND BELIEF
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
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The move itself will be small, only a few inches. One man will move to the
right, one will move to the left, the puck will drop, and the war will go on
as usual. A few inches, that's all, just enough to squeeze in the old boss
between them. But for Barry Smith and Dave Lewis, they might as well be
stepping out of the clouds and falling to Earth.
  
For five short games, they had realized a dream, they were in charge of the
best team in hockey. Theirs was one of the strangest experiments in NHL
coaching history: two men, sitting in for a legend, sharing equally the load
of leadership ...but for how long? They never knew. A week? A month? The rest
of the season?

Scotty Bowman, arguably the best hockey coach in history, was a few hundred
miles away, recovering from heart surgery, knee surgery and the death of his
younger brother. Who could put a timetable on that? It was like Daddy going
off to war, telling his sons, "You're the men of the house until I come back."
The unspoken question was always, "What if you don't come back?"
  
Smith and Lewis faced that uncertainty all summer. They faced it through
training camp. They faced it through exhibition games. And they faced it
through the first few weeks of this young season. All told, they were "co-head
coaches" for nearly four months. They "retire" from their two-headed
experiment with a record of four victories, one loss in the regular season.
Not bad for a couple of substitutes, huh?
  
Now comes the unfair ending: neither Smith nor Lewis will be credited with
anything.
  
That's right. For some strange reason, according to the NHL, the five games
they coached will not be counted on Bowman's record, nor on theirs. The games
will go down as "team victories," whatever that means.
  
In other words, nowhere in the history books will it register that Dave Lewis
and Barry Smith, two men who have always dreamed of being head coaches in the
NHL, actually pulled it off for a brief but satisfying stretch, winning four
out of five times. It's like that magical village in "Brigadoon," here for a
moment, then disappearing into the mist.
  
"I don't know if it's purgatory or limbo," Lewis said Thursday, the day Bowman
officially returned. "What we did is just gone. Dust in the wind."
  
Dust in the wind?
  

  
Bowman's kind of guys
  

  
Well, before the dust settles, a word on behalf of these two men. You have no
idea how unusual their accomplishment was. This is professional sports, where
assistant coaches often badmouth their bosses, where they use whatever chance
they get to boost themselves with media, front office, fans. It is not beyond
assistant coaches to spread a damaging rumor about the head guy. It is not
even beyond them to take swings at each other -- or have we forgotten Buddy
Ryan and Kevin Gilbride?
  
To have two men, who both dream of head-coaching in the NHL -- and who are
both qualified to do so -- not only agree to share leadership of the team, but
to do it without ego, without bickering, and then to willingly move over when
the big boss comes back -- folks, that is major league character in today's
world.
  
And they won't even get credit for it.
  
"What they did for me was very big," Bowman said. "It shows how the Red Wings
are a team, a real team. A player goes down, another picks it up. A coach goes
down, another picks it up."
  
Or in this case, two men pick it up. How unusual was that? How many successful
companies are run by two equal bosses? Smith, 47, and Lewis, 44, would meet in
the film room at Joe Louis Arena every day before practice. They would discuss
strategy. They would discuss players. Behind the bench, one would call the
line changes for forwards, the other for the defensemen. If they disagreed,
they never let it show.
  
And they never once used Bowman's office.
  
"Never put our feet on his desk," Smith joked.
  
This is rare. Although both men downplay the idea, you know that at times,
especially during those five games, they stood behind the Wings' bench, made
the line calls, and said to themselves, "This is how it feels. This is what it
would be like if I were head coach."
  
Wouldn't you?
  

  
Bowman's turn to shine
  

  
And yet they never got drunk on that emotion. There was no Al Haig-like, "I'm
in charge around here" speeches. Bowman came back, and they handed over the
team, in first place, thank you, with a new line featuring Brendan Shanahan
and Steve Yzerman that is more productive than a slot machine stuck on
cherries.
  
And tonight, Bowman is re-introduced as the head coach. Are Smith and Lewis
saddened at the switch back? Are they bitter? Jealous?
  
"Hey, Scotty is the master," Smith said. "He deserves his chance to
three-peat. Anything less would be selfish on our part."
  
Smith has been an assistant with three NHL teams. He has four Stanley Cup
rings, two with Pittsburgh, two with Detroit. Lewis went from Red Wings player
to assistant coach. He has been here for 11 years, working for Jacques Demers,
Bryan Murray and now Bowman.
  
Don't you think, at some point, their inner voices said, "Hey, how about me?"
  
But still they wait.
  
"I got closer to Dave through this thing," Smith said.
  
"I have more respect for Barry than ever," Lewis said.
  
Maybe what they did, on paper, disappears now. Maybe, as Lewis says, it's dust
in the wind. But it was a pretty rare dust. They move over tonight, just a few
inches, which is no indication of how big a mountain they just finished
climbing.
  
To leave a message for Mitch Albom, call 1-313-223-4581.
  
  

A decade on the air

Ten years ago, Kirk Gibson belted one of the most dramatic home runs in World
Series history. Soon after, he was the first guest on a new weekly talk show,
"Sunday Sports Albom."
  
The show, hosted by Free Press columnist Mitch Albom, celebrates its 10th
anniversary at 9-11 p.m. this Sunday on WJR-AM (760).

When the show debuted, on WLLZ, it was the country's first sports talk show on
an FM rock station. It moved to WJR in 1994 and is now syndicated across
Michigan and Ohio. Through the years, "Sunday Sports Albom" consistently has
been at the top of the ratings. And only WJR's "Sportswrap" has been a
longer-running sports show in the Detroit market.
  
Sunday's anniversary show will feature studio guests Steve Yzerman and Barry
Sanders -- and plenty of flashbacks and surprises.
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<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
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<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN;HOCKEY;RED WINGS;BARRY SMITH;DAVE LEWIS
</KEYWORDS>
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