The Blackhawks had better get this right before it’s too late. A goal saved can be as good as a goal scored,
But even hockey’s greatest defense cannot sustain virtually no offense.
The gods have been smiling on Chicago’s boys of winter this spring. With a lot of pluck and considerable luck, the Hawks survived their series against Toronto, then swept Vancouver in straight sets.
But to have stolen Thursday night’s Stanley Cup semifinal opener with this squirt-gun attack of 14 shots in 61 minutes would have constituted grand theft. You can’t spend three hours in your own end of the rink and expect to beat the Detroit Red Wings.
If the Hawks don’t have sore heels after this display, it’s a miracle of modern science, because that’s where they were all evening at Joe Louis Arena. The name fit. This was a battle of NHL heavyweights. But the Hawks were on the ropes virtually throughout, counterpunching with all the effectiveness of an octopus trying to set up a beach chair.
When Nicklas Lidstrom beat Ed Belfour with a low rocket from just inside the blue line for a 2-1 Detroit victory, it was not only a triumph for clearly the better team, but for the laws of territorial advantage too. Pushing the Red Wings to overtime was a badge the Hawks didn’t really deserve.
So much for the elaborate scouting report the visitors had drafted. Crash the net on Detroit goalie Mike Vernon, because he can be beaten high, and on rebounds, and between the legs too. Bump those veteran Red Wing defenseman such as Paul Coffey, who was 34 Thursday, and venerable Mike Ramsey and Viacheslav Fetisov.
As the local boasting went, the only time the San Jose Sharks touched the Red Wings during that last wipeout series was for the perfunctory handshakes. But the Hawks would be different. They clutch and grab and grind. Coffey should only spend as much quality time with his new baby daughter as he would with Hawk forecheckers in the next couple weeks.
Well, it looked nice on paper. And the Hawks did attempt contact. But it was as though they were so concerned about containing the great Red Wing machine that they stalled out themselves. It was a silent night for a number of Hawk forwards, in more ways than one.
Not only were directions ignored on ways and means to handle the Red Wings. The Hawks couldn’t get their signals straight on post-game explanations. A few of them begged off interviews, claiming that coach Darryl Sutter issued a gag order. But other players talked openly. Details, details.
To repeat, maybe everybody will comprehend the magnitude of this assignment by Game 2 Sunday.
The Hawks might even want to sample the hyperbaric oxygen chamber parked outside the Detroit dressing room for injured Capt. Steve Yzerman. By breathing 100 per cent pure air, rather than the customary 21 per cent available to mere mortals, Yzerman intends to heal quicker. His fallen adversary, Hawk defenseman Gary Suter, is in an oxygen tank of his own in Chicago.
Keith Primeau, the giant center who logged extra minutes in Yzerman’s absence, need not apply. He skated through the Hawks pretty much on cue, before and after his flip shot eluded Belfour to achieve a 1-1 tie early in the second period. The Hawks won’t have to look at films to determine how thoroughly he dominated them.
The game was not as close as the score indicated nor as passive as the police blotter would show. Referee Terry Gregson called only five penalties, and it seemed that the more he let the teams engage in controlled violence, the better it would be for the Hawks. But 14 shots?
Sutter, who allowed himself to talk, admitted the Hawks probably could be a bit more aggressive. Crashing the other team’s net generally requires crossing the red line. Vernon showered after the game, but it was a waste of water.
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