A Dynasty Spoils a Miracle

Montreal wins--again--by deflating the gallant Rangers

In the National Hockey League, miracles never cease; they just run afoul of the Montreal Canadiens. So it was for the New York Rangers, last season's eleventh-place club that climbed this year to the final round of the Stanley Cup playoffs, only to founder, as have so many other miracles in so many other years, when matched against a team that has won championships across seven decades.

With the defeat of the Rangers, four games to one, the Montreal Canadiens captured their fourth straight Stanley Cup, their 15th in the past quarter-century, their 22nd championship in a skein that began in 1916.

The Canadiens won with a marvelous demonstration of why they are hockey's dynasty. Montreal was humiliated by the quick and aggressive Rangers in the series' opening game, losing 4-1 in a rout so thorough that fans in the Montreal Forum could not believe their eyes. Nor could the Montreal players believe their ears. Ken Dryden, the league's top goaltender for the past three years, was booed out of the nets and replaced by Michel ("Bunny") Larocque. Defenseman Larry Robinson, a 6-ft. 3-in. version of the legendary Bobby Orr, suffered a special torture. He was confronted by tactics that Ranger Coach Fred Shero devised when directing the Philadelphia Flyers against Orr's Boston Bruins in the 1974 Cup finals.

The idea is simple: dump the puck to the opposition's star defenseman in his own end and make him handle it until he wears himself out. The approach worked against Orr, and with two Rangers dogging his every move, it worked against Robinson. He made two mistakes that allowed goals and--rightfully, he said later--was booed by the Canadiens' fans.

Even Right Wing Guy Lafleur, lord of all Quebec, was not immune to the tight checking of the young New Yorkers or the jeers of his public.

When the Rangers opened the second game by scoring two goals against Dryden in less than seven minutes, the impossible seemed possible. Then the Canadiens found the miracle wrecker in Left Wing Bob Gainey. Gainey is the stuff of dynasties as surely as are Lafleur, Jean Beliveau and Maurice ("Rocket") Richard from earlier teams, an example of the depth of talent that Montreal assembles to support its stars. In six N.H.L. seasons, Gainey, 25, has averaged fewer than 15 goals a year, concentrating instead on the less dramatic, but equally vital skills of a defensive forward.

In the second game, Gainey took charge, spelling the Montreal defensemen by swooping up ice with the puck himself, prowling the crease in front of Ranger Goaltender John Davidson to draw defenders away from Canadien forwards. He forced openings in the Ranger defense that his teammates exploited with a display of skating, that left Shero awed: "I don't think I've ever seen a team that fast in my life. Not even the Russians skate that fast. There was nothing we could do to match it."

In the fourth game, Gainey banged Defenseman Dave Maloney, 22, into the boards near the Ranger goal, stole the puck and tied the score. The playoff-wise Canadiens coolly put the game away in the sudden-death overtime.

In the fifth and final game back in Montreal's Forum, Gainey was hit in the eye by a puck in the closing seconds of the first period. No matter. He returned, well stitched, to score the goal that put the game out of reach. While Montreal Captain Serge Savard skated majestically around the rink holding the Stanley Cup high to the shouts of the born-again loyalists in the stands, Gainey was presented with the trophy for most valuable player.

In the locker room, Gainey sat hugging his prize, while his teammates splashed champagne and exulted in a commanding triumph after a season of injuries and ennui that threatened their domination of the game. He marveled: "It's so hard to believe they're going to put my name on a trophy beside guys like Bobby Orr and Jean Beliveau."

Dryden, still bitter about the boos and undecided about returning next year, looked back on his most trying time: "You learn that you can't draw energy or desire from fans, coaches, even players, because they're not always there when you need them. You have to find it in yourself."

There were tears from the Rangers.

When the Forum's siren screamed to end the game, Rookie Left Wing Don Maloney, 20, Dave's brother, lowered his head to the top of a goal and wept. In the locker room, Phil Esposito, 37, made the rounds of his young teammates, rumpling the hair of one forward, holding a defenseman in a consoling embrace. "This team will win the Stanley Cup," Esposito said. "If not next year, then the next, or the next. I am proud to have played with them."

A few moments earlier, the Canadiens' Robinson, who had regained his poise in the last four games, had shuddered at the demands of the dynasty: "It's a terrifying thing to go through a whole summer and have people ask you why you didn't win the Stanley Cup." There were no such expectations for the Rangers, a club that had last won the trophy in 1940, and, therefore, could find some solace in having come so far. Goaltender Davidson reflected on the miracle that almost was:

"We made believers of a lot of people.

We made believers of ourselves. We learned from the Canadiens what we've got to strive for. When I go home this summer, I'm going to walk around with my head held high." -

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.