Peplinski had won a battle in the corner and set up Mullenperfectly. Although Mullen’s goal temporarily deflated the crowd, it did not have the desired effect on the Blues’ work ethic.
The rally intensified when Brian Sutter scored off a big rebound that Vernon had given up after making a kick save. I have to confess: at this point I didn’t think there was any way that the Blues had enough left in the tank to close the two-goal gap. Oh,
me
of little faith!
It wasn’t until Greg Paslawski jammed a one-timer past Vernon to make it 5–4 that I became a semi-believer. The Blues were a blue-collar team that relied on the dump-and-chase style that typified Norris Division teams. This goal was just another example of how they outworked their opponents. Brian Sutter, one of the hardest workers I ever saw, beat a Flame defender to the puck deep in the right corner and threw a backhand Hail Mary–style pass toward the front of the Flames’ goal. Paslawski was attacking the goal with speed on a direct, unimpeded route through the slot. The no-look pass from Sutter landed perfectly on the tape of Paslawski’s stick, and he banged it home. The place erupted.
Privately, I marvelled at how completely the momentum had shifted, and sensed that something special was about to happen. I also saw the dejection in the Flames’ faces as they looked at the clock and contemplated the time remaining. Time could either be their best ally or worst nightmare as they tried desperately to hold on to their slim lead. Blues play-by-play announcer Ken Wilson, perhaps accurately sensing the Flames’ panic, offered this on-air observation after Paslawski’s goal: “If the Blues come up with a miracle finish, these Calgary Flames would have to crawl back to Alberta.” While Ken detected that from the distance of his broadcast perch high above the ice, I was in the thick of it.
With 1:17 remaining in regulation time, the Blues once again dumped the puck into the Calgary zone, prompting Vernon to leave his crease and stop the puck behind his cage for oncoming defenceman Jamie Macoun. Vernon stepped aside as the ever-steadyMacoun retrieved the puck, skated behind the goal, and started out the other way. Vernon tried to get back to his crease while the speedy forechecker Paslawski chased Macoun. Just as Macoun rounded the goal and started up ice, Paslawski lifted the Calgary defenceman’s stick from behind and stripped him of the puck. Then, all in one motion, he wheeled and fired a desperate shot from a bad angle at the Calgary net. Vernon had not yet been able to set himself in his crease and was caught totally off guard as the shot blew past him on the short side. We were heading to overtime.
Back in the relative quiet and safety of our dressing room, the death threat reported no more than 20 minutes ago had been all but forgotten. Out in the hallway, however, it was a different scene. My oversized bodyguards stood stiffly, like a matched set of Buddhas, outside our door.
The linesmen and I refuelled and rehydrated, not knowing whether overtime would end quickly or if another full 20 minutes—or more—would be required to decide this game. Depending on how it ended, I knew one thing for sure: I was getting off the ice quickly—and I might even use Scampy as a decoy! We all shared the hope that, whichever team scored, it would be a clean goal free of controversy. I suggested it was vital that someone be on the goal line in the event of a fast break. Should I be caught behind the play for any reason, I asked Finn and Scampy to make sure they went in from their blue line position to cover for me. In the remaining minutes of calm, each of us relaxed with our own thoughts about what we had just been part of. The three periods had been like three games rolled into one.
Both teams had glorious opportunities to end the game early in overtime. Vernon made a huge save on a Doug Wickenheiser slapshot. At the other end, Wamsley was equal to the task
The rally intensified when Brian Sutter scored off a big rebound that Vernon had given up after making a kick save. I have to confess: at this point I didn’t think there was any way that the Blues had enough left in the tank to close the two-goal gap. Oh,
me
of little faith!
It wasn’t until Greg Paslawski jammed a one-timer past Vernon to make it 5–4 that I became a semi-believer. The Blues were a blue-collar team that relied on the dump-and-chase style that typified Norris Division teams. This goal was just another example of how they outworked their opponents. Brian Sutter, one of the hardest workers I ever saw, beat a Flame defender to the puck deep in the right corner and threw a backhand Hail Mary–style pass toward the front of the Flames’ goal. Paslawski was attacking the goal with speed on a direct, unimpeded route through the slot. The no-look pass from Sutter landed perfectly on the tape of Paslawski’s stick, and he banged it home. The place erupted.
Privately, I marvelled at how completely the momentum had shifted, and sensed that something special was about to happen. I also saw the dejection in the Flames’ faces as they looked at the clock and contemplated the time remaining. Time could either be their best ally or worst nightmare as they tried desperately to hold on to their slim lead. Blues play-by-play announcer Ken Wilson, perhaps accurately sensing the Flames’ panic, offered this on-air observation after Paslawski’s goal: “If the Blues come up with a miracle finish, these Calgary Flames would have to crawl back to Alberta.” While Ken detected that from the distance of his broadcast perch high above the ice, I was in the thick of it.
With 1:17 remaining in regulation time, the Blues once again dumped the puck into the Calgary zone, prompting Vernon to leave his crease and stop the puck behind his cage for oncoming defenceman Jamie Macoun. Vernon stepped aside as the ever-steadyMacoun retrieved the puck, skated behind the goal, and started out the other way. Vernon tried to get back to his crease while the speedy forechecker Paslawski chased Macoun. Just as Macoun rounded the goal and started up ice, Paslawski lifted the Calgary defenceman’s stick from behind and stripped him of the puck. Then, all in one motion, he wheeled and fired a desperate shot from a bad angle at the Calgary net. Vernon had not yet been able to set himself in his crease and was caught totally off guard as the shot blew past him on the short side. We were heading to overtime.
Back in the relative quiet and safety of our dressing room, the death threat reported no more than 20 minutes ago had been all but forgotten. Out in the hallway, however, it was a different scene. My oversized bodyguards stood stiffly, like a matched set of Buddhas, outside our door.
The linesmen and I refuelled and rehydrated, not knowing whether overtime would end quickly or if another full 20 minutes—or more—would be required to decide this game. Depending on how it ended, I knew one thing for sure: I was getting off the ice quickly—and I might even use Scampy as a decoy! We all shared the hope that, whichever team scored, it would be a clean goal free of controversy. I suggested it was vital that someone be on the goal line in the event of a fast break. Should I be caught behind the play for any reason, I asked Finn and Scampy to make sure they went in from their blue line position to cover for me. In the remaining minutes of calm, each of us relaxed with our own thoughts about what we had just been part of. The three periods had been like three games rolled into one.
Both teams had glorious opportunities to end the game early in overtime. Vernon made a huge save on a Doug Wickenheiser slapshot. At the other end, Wamsley was equal to the task
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