For the past two months, as indicated by my (attempted) playoff beard, I have been fully absorbed with the New York Rangers post-season run, something that has now become, thankfully, an annual occurrence. For years the Rangers franchise (and fanbase) suffered through a post-1994 Stanley Cup Championship hangover, hurling gobs of money at player after overpriced-player, the vast majority of which were either too old or too injured or too ill-suited for Broadway (see: Bure, Pavel; Lindros, Eric; Fleury, Theo; Gomez, Scott; et al). However, this syndrome ended, oddly enough, with the lockout of 2004 and the strong play of another imported superstar, Jaromir Jagr, who bucked the trend and helped turn the Rangers into a perennial playoff team. A decade later the Rangers have established themselves as one of the most consistent teams in the NHL and arguably the most successful in New York (take that, the Liberty!), and, now, they’re about to appear in their first final since that ’94 dream run But before we look too far ahead to Game 1 in Los Angeles tomorrow evening (8pm EST, 5pm Pacific, sometime in between in the midwest), let us quickly look back at that legendary 1994 squad, the team of destiny that exorcised the demons of 1940 and firmly established the likes of Brian Leetch, Mike Richter, Adam Graves, Stephane Matteau and even back-up goalie Glenn Healy as immortals, and elevated captain Mark Messiah to legitimate god status. But it’s not any of those champions we want to talk about today; no, right now we’re focused on that young dynamo out of Togliatti, Russia, the one with the fast feet and the quick hands, the one with the broken English and who broke through defenses. That, of course, being Alexei Kovalev. Long before current Rangers defenseman and Minnesota native Ryan McDonagh announced himself as a force on the Rangers blueline for many, many years to come, Kovalev was the premier #27 in a Rangers sweater. His speed, stick-handling and clutch scoring made the right-wing a quick fan favorite at Madison Square Garden, and in only his sophomore year in the NHL he was playing big minutes and scoring big goals. But it wasn’t just his explosive skating, triple dekes and dangerous wrist shot that endeared himself to the Garden faithful. It was also, his big, bright, goofy personality. More specifically, it was his troll. Yes, throughout the ’94 playoffs Kovalev kept a lucky troll doll at his locker. And when the Rangers won the cup, breaking the curse of 1940, the troll was there, sharing in the celebration. What Kovalev might have lacked in English proficiency, he surely made up for with youthful exuberance. With his electric play and a genuine enthusiasm that transcended any language, Kovalev made an indelible mark on that ’94 cup run and on our childhood. And so it was no surprise that his appearance at last week’s Eastern Conference Finals Game 6 at MSG sent the crowed into a mid-game frenzy, showing that if you win in NY, you’re a hero for life. He might be twenty years older, his baby face morphed into the aged countenance of a grizzled hockey veteran, his English no longer just barely comprehensible, but sporting that iconic hat (and surprisingly nondescript official t-shirt), Kovalev is as beloved as he was twenty-years ago, a champion not for a year but for eternity. Now just imagine the reaction had he brought the troll.
Tag Archives: Mark Messier
We weren’t even three years-old when the Mets won the World Series in 1986, but that team has come to define our life. We don’t remember much, if anything, from that time, but we watched and rewatched and wore out 1986: A Year to Remember, the VHS yearbook of that magical season, and even if those memories weren’t burned onto our cerebral cortex in that October, we don’t recall a time when we didn’t know that team, when Mex, Doc, Darryl, Nails and Kid weren’t our heroes. The only other similar experience for us was the 1994 Rangers, and while we continue to revere that team – especially captain and messiah Mark Messier – their impact on us is not as great as the ’86 Mets. In ’94 we were old enough to choose the Rangers, but the ’86 Mets essentially chose us. For better or worse. That would be the team against which we would measure every other team against for the rest of our lives. And we know that, no matter what, because of that team’s success, and promise, and its ultimate shortcomings, no team will ever match it in our hearts and minds.
Despite the fact that we’re not left-handed and don’t play first base, we gravitated towards Keith Hernandez. He was our guy. It was the intangibles, the way he approached the game with a a cerebral approach, the way he made the players around him better, the way he was a leader and a champion. But we also knew, as A Year to Remember made clear, that Keith wasn’t alone in leading that team. Gary Carter, he of the wide, indefatigable smile, the king the curtain call, shared that role with Keith. If Mex was the brains of that team, Kid was the heart. Keith was the field general, Gary was their spiritual guide. They made each other better, and together they willed that team to win. And in doing so left an indelible mark on so many of us. They were the rock.
That was the first time we ever heard the world “effervescent” and we’ve associated it with Gary Carter ever since.