“You have to hand it to Mike Keenan. He’s good. I’m sitting in the lounge after the game, and I’m watching the postgame on the TV. All I hear is Mike complaining and demanding a suspension, and it’s just going on and on. He’s really into it. And I remember saying, ‘Who is he talking about?’ Sure enough, it was me! And sure enough, I get suspended for it. He definitely influenced that. I don’t think that happens in today’s game.”
—Bernie Nicholls, New Jersey Devils (1993–94)
Rangers coach Mike Keenan had made his displeasure clear during Game 3. As he ranted and raved at the officials between the first and second periods, his message was unmistakable: win or lose, he was going to push to get Bernie Nicholls suspended for his cross-check on Alexei Kovalev. If he created a media circus in the process, so be it. The only thing that mattered, in the end, was the result.
The Rangers made it a production, of course, as Keenan continued his message in the postgame press conference following the euphoric 3–2 double-overtime victory in East Rutherford. The tabloids ran with the story, the talk shows opened up their phone lines, and the Rangers sent a tape to the league for review.
“It was incidents like that, that made for great radio in New York,” Chris Russo said. “It was a great time for hockey fans, and let’s face it: controversy goes a long way toward making great series. We had that in this series. There was a lot going on there.”
Had this happened in a different series, in a different media market, perhaps the outcome would have been different. But with the buzz surrounding this series at an all-time high, in the world’s largest media market, Keenan succeeded with his quest. The message was out to the masses, and the league had the evidence.
“Things are going to happen quick,” said NHL vice president in charge of discipline Brian Burke.
And boy, did he mean it.
After further review, the NHL concurred with Keenan. Even though no penalty was called, Nicholls, one of the Devils’ most consistent offensive players, was to be suspended immediately for Game 4 at home, with New Jersey trailing the series 2–1 and facing its biggest game of the season.
“In that series—in any series, really—you have to go through that kind of adversity,” Ken Daneyko said. “The decision was the decision, and you take responsibility for the tough times, learn from it, and know what you need to do the next time out.”
Jacques Lemaire wasn’t going to let that message slip by his troops. Nicholls—who scored 70 goals in 1988–89 with Los Angeles, made three All-Star teams, and finished his 18-year career with 1,209 points—would be missed. But it was not the Devils’ way to make excuses or neglect to have someone ready to fill another teammate’s skates.
Enter Corey Millen, an American sparkplug of a forward, all 5’7” and 170 pounds of him, who could come in, win faceoffs, agitate the opponent, and create some offense from time to time.
Keep in mind, this was one of the deeper teams in the NHL, so Lemaire didn’t need to call on a minor league farmhand. Millen, a former Ranger, had scored 20 goals in 78 regular season games for the Devils, marking the third time he reached 20 tallies in an eight-year career. Not bad for a reserve. “Everyone had a role, and everyone knew what to do when your name was called,” Lou Lamoriello said. “It didn’t matter if you were Scott Stevens or Corey Millen. You were always ready to go.”
Millen certainly welcomed the opportunity to show the organization he still belonged. Despite his statistics, Millen didn’t have one of his more enjoyable seasons under Lemaire, and it just goes to show you that even when a franchise enjoys a breakthrough season, there are always pitfalls and personality clashes to manage. Millen, a proud, passionate, and experienced player, wanted to play, of course, and felt he could contribute to such a good team. But in the end, he was only in the lineup for seven postseason games.
“I tried my best to just go about my business. Everyone’s job with the Devils is to take ownership in what they had to do, so I did that,” Millen said. “I had my moments of frustration, certainly. Jacques had his ways and knew what he wanted to see, and if you didn’t do it, you wouldn’t be used. I had to get used to that, and cater my game around that.”
But for a player who was drafted in the third round back in 1982, represented his country in the Olympics twice, and scored 119 goals in a star-studded career at the University of Minnesota—one of the nation’s top hockey schools—sitting in the press box watching games in a suit and tie was an adjustment.
“It was probably the most frustrating time of my career,” he said. “For me, I never knew from day to day if I’d be in the lineup. Every day in practice, I was on the line with three other guys: Bernie Nicholls, Claude Lemieux, Stephane Richer, and me. And I knew those guys were going to play, so I had to get used to the fact that I wasn’t going to be out there. Jacques had me on edge all the time, and I wasn’t the only one. It was tough to get into any groove. In the end, as far as the regular season, I was in the lineup most of the time, but out of it just enough to wonder why. But the team was so successful, and he did a great job of managing all the parts. You could not argue with the success.”
But none of that mattered on May 21, 1994. He was in the lineup on that day, and it was up to him to make the most of it. And oh by the way, he just happened to be walking into an epic series against his team’s biggest rival, one that had just taken a 2–1 lead.
“No question, it was a serious time,” Millen said. “Every game with the Rangers was serious. But with that kind of talent out there on both sides, this was a new level. And having played for the Rangers, I spent enough time there to know what they were all about and know what they were up against here. When you play there, you certainly get a feel for the fans, and their desire and their love and their hunger to win. You knew, once they got Mark [Messier], it was a whole new ballgame, and they finally had the pieces in place to deliver what the fans wanted. So, it was pretty clear that most people thought this was their year. And it was up to us to stop that.”
That wasn’t going to be easy, with or without Nicholls. After all, the Rangers were brimming with confidence and knew that they’d have plenty of support in the stands again in Game 4. “It was just a very professional group, with some great characters, but they all seemed to bring a sense of calm to every situation,” Mike Richter said. “And we also had the ability to withstand the inevitable—injuries, losses, tough bounces, you name it. We were always prepared.”
In a series so even across the board, it was hardly a surprise that the Devils were the aggressor in Game 4, given the fact that they were dominated the game before. With the crowd at another fever pitch, Bobby Carpenter edged Messier on the opening faceoff, and the home team went to work. Stevens and Lemieux let off successive slap shots in the first three minutes that Richter stopped, but the pressure was on.
“I think the Rangers are just being a little sloppy at this point. It’s not that the Devils are doing anything fancy, but they are coming,” Bill Clement said on the telecast. “I think it’s realistic to say that this is the New Jersey Devils’ season if they do not win this.”
They played like it.
Tom Chorske, one of the Devils’ best skaters who had the explosion to take over a game if given the room, was all over the ice in the first period. On one shift, he laid out Jeff Beukeboom, sending an early message, then broke into the Rangers’ zone and drew a hooking penalty on Brian Leetch, of all people, at 10:01. It was a foreshadowing of things to come for the Rangers defenseman.
Sixteen seconds later, the Devils had their first lead of the series. Lemaire sent Jim Dowd out for the power-play faceoff, and though he lost it, Bruce Driver—as was his specialty—kept it at the point. He passed the puck to John MacLean, who backhanded it along the boards back to Dowd. Stephane Richer, who was developing a nice bond with Dowd though they rarely played together in the regular season, sensed his center’s wont, and broke to the net. He received a neat touch pass from Dowd, and with a little room, Richer went five-hole on Richter for his second goal of the series and seventh of the playoffs.
Richer’s 46th career playoff tally finally gave the Devils something to work with: a lead, albeit small, which would allow Lemaire to truly clamp down in the neutral zone.
“The Devils’ transition game,” Gary Thorne said on the broadcast, “is maybe the best that we’ve seen in this series.”
Indeed, New Jersey—with the Crash Line taking a regular turn, including the shift right after Richer’s goal—was able to dictate play. Keenan, hoping for a spark, juggled his lines, and with 6:00 left, he even sent out one of the team’s many enforcers, forward Joey Kocur, along with Stephane Matteau and Adam Graves.
It wouldn’t be long before the game turned chippy, and with 4:38 remaining in the first, the series’ first true fight—a rarity in postseason play—took place between two bruisers at center ice: Beukeboom and Mike Peluso. Peluso, who led the league with 408 penalty minutes in 1991–92 while with the Blackhawks, shed his equipment and tagged Beukeboom with a right to the side of the head that knocked him down. Peluso landed on top of him, the officials stepped in, and they both shuttled off to the locker room with 5:00 penalties.
Valeri Zelepukin continued the physical play 16:00 in as he floored Steve Larmer, who had his head down on the far boards from Richter. It was uncharacteristic of Zelepukin, but only further illustrated the Devils’ cause on the night. Larmer shook it off, took a pass at center, and carried into the Devils’ zone only to be hooked by Zelepukin, who could have easily drawn a penalty for it. No call, and it was a biggie. Stevens corralled the loose puck, turned, and fed a streaking Bill Guerin on the quick transition at center. Guerin broke in the zone with steam in between Sergei Zubov and Kevin Lowe, who could not catch up. Guerin faked forehand, getting Richter to commit, and then went backhand top shelf over the American’s glove hand for as pretty a Devils’ goal as one will ever see.
“I think there’s different ways to win, and you have to learn how to play to your strengths. You also have to play with the hand that you’re dealt. That’s where our strength lied, back then on defense, and that’s the way we had to play,” Scott Niedermayer said. “But we had goal scorers, and there’s not just one way to win in this league. If you have talent in one area, you have to take advantage of it in this league. And that’s certainly what we did back then.”
Guerin, who finished with 13 20-goal seasons in an 18-year career, was one of those snipers who often sacrificed a chance or two to play within the Lemaire system. But when he sensed his opportunity, he had the wheels and the skill set to make the most of it. Though he scored in the opener as well, he is more remembered for a shot that Richter stopped in that Game 1. So, you can understand his excitement.
“It was good to get that one,” Guerin said.
Stoned at Madison Square Garden by Richter in Game 1, Guerin made good on his chance in Game 4. The two Americans would later be teammates, friends, and key cogs in Team USA’s stunning 1996 World Cup of Hockey championship victory against Canada. But on this night in New Jersey, Guerin stood tall with his second goal of the playoffs, at 16:54, as Richter lay prone on the ice, staring at the rafters.
“Something I learned pretty early on with the Devils: put it behind you and move on,” Guerin said of Richter’s famous Game 1 save. “I ended up having a good series. I got one back on Ricky there in Game 4.”
Guerin raced over to the bench and hugged Lemieux as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But it was the activity on the Rangers’ bench that was more interesting. As the Devils fans celebrated what seemed like a monstrous 2–0 lead, backup goaltender Glenn Healy began to stretch, and suddenly, a change in goal was in store.
“This is Mike Keenan telling his players, you’re not getting it done,” Thorne said. “It’s a message.”
But how serious a message was it? There was only 3:06 left in the first period, so Keenan may have just been playing mind games. Get Richter a little rest headed into the break, get him refocused, and get back at it after the intermission.
“I did think I was going back in,” Richter said. “I honestly did. And I probably should have known better.”
In fact, Healy and Richter shared a moment at the blue line where each gave the other a vote of confidence, and the latter simply went to the bench and joined his teammates.
“Keenan had a way of sending a message. There are many reasons why you pull a goalie, and he used just about every one of them at some point,” Richter said. “But I’d rather be with someone who cared as much as he did. It could be tough at times. In the end, you knew what your job was, and if he didn’t feel you were doing it, he’d make a change.”
So, in a game the Devils were dominating—with 3:00 left in the first, they held a 10–3 shots advantage—Healy made just his second appearance of the playoffs. And he was able to survive the period, stopping the only shot he faced.
But would he return after the break? Only Keenan knew.
“[Keenan] was not going to just sit there,” Richter said, “and let the ship sink.”
Well, Keenan thought it’d be better to stick with Healy, surprisingly enough. But Richter wouldn’t be the only superstar on the shelf in this game.
“He might have done some strange things,” Richter said, “but it was all for the betterment of the team.”
Perhaps. But it was hard to fathom why star Brian Leetch would find himself on the bench during the crucial moments of the second period, with the Rangers in an all-out push to stay in the game.
“There always seemed to be something hovering,” Leetch said. “It was a dark time, and Mike didn’t make it any easier on me, talking about injuries, and suspensions, and sitting myself. There was a lot of stuff going on.”
Wasn’t that the way of life with the Rangers? As unique as Keenan was, with his mind games and the politics and the strange decisions, it was hard for many to digest the fact that Leetch was being benched in a game of this magnitude. Then again, the suspension demand worked, the Healy decision was working, and at 8:47 of the second period, with a jumbled power play, the Rangers, minus Leetch, even knifed the Devils’ lead in half.
Esa Tikkanen, a defensive forward with a scoring touch, manned the point instead of Leetch as the Rangers held the zone off the faceoff. Zubov fed Larmer at the faceoff dot, and Larmer, in turn, shifted it to Messier behind the net. Matteau, who had been the Rangers’ best forward for the last three periods going back to Game 3, was in front of Martin Brodeur with his stick down—“Always have my stick down,” Matteau said—and Messier saucered a flat centering pass to him. Matteau calmly pushed it past Brodeur with a one-timer through the five-hole as Tommy Albelin fell to the ice.
It was the perfect storm for the Rangers. Had Albelin kept his balance, he would have been able to erase Matteau. Instead, he fell, and Matteau delivered. Again.
“I felt great after Game 3,” Matteau said. “I felt that getting that goal was a lot of pressure off my shoulders, and I was able to just go out and play. I parked myself in front of the net and outmuscled Albelin, and was able to get another one.”
Matteau’s post-goal celebration was a little more subdued than in Game 3, but he was excited nonetheless. He was greeted by a smiling Messier, who picked up an assist, along with Larmer.
“The door,” Thorne said, “just crept open.”
And the Rangers, as good teams do, built off the momentum change. Sergei Nemchinov fired three shots on net in the next shift, as the Crash Line found itself scrambling for a change. Brodeur stood tall this time, but the Rangers were coming in waves.
On the other end, Healy was playing well in his unexpected appearance. Prone and with his waffle out in the air, he stopped Lemieux point blank on a power-play rebound chance en route to a scoreless period for New Jersey. Any surprise at Healy’s performance was no sign of disrespect, of course; Healy played 15 seasons in the NHL and had a career 3.37 goals-against average. But he never had more than the 25 wins he posted in 1988–89 with Los Angeles, and had never come close to winning the Stanley Cup.
As the Rangers continued to push, Leetch eventually made his way back on the ice, though he uncharacteristically drifted into the Devils’ zone offside with 4:15 left. “When you look back, we all remember the series vividly for so many reasons,” Larmer said. “How can you not? I mean, Brian Leetch was benched!”
“If the rivalry is not established as one that is a terrific rivalry,” Clement said in the second period, “then this series will take care of the rest.”
As the final seconds of the frame ticked off, the Rangers were clearly back on their game, albeit with different faces in different places. They held a 12–8 advantage in shots in the period, and though they were trailing in the game and had lost the first fight of the series, and despite the soap opera that was building on the bench, they were down by just one goal.
The Devils, meanwhile, had no time for the theater that was being orchestrated by the visitors. They were, after all, in the midst of their best all-around effort of the series, though the Rangers had managed to stem the tide.
“It clearly was one of the most solid games the Devils had played,” said Mike Miller, who began his career as New Jersey’s play-by-play man on October 6, 1993, and at one time called 1,741 consecutive games. “The way they looked that night—holy smokes—you knew this was a team to be reckoned with.”
New Jersey—on home ice, with the Lemaire lockdown system in place—probably felt confident about holding a one-goal lead for 20 minutes and evening the series, especially considering the alternative. As good as the Devils were—complete, skilled, and defensively sound—nobody was going to give them a chance against the Rangers if they had to limp back through the tunnel down 3–1.
“Responsible, defensive hockey, at all times, in all games,” Miller said. “There’s not much more you can say about it. People didn’t like it, at all. But say what you will. That was Devils Hockey. And on most nights, there wasn’t much the other team could do about it. This—Game 4—was one of those nights.”
While the other New York stars failed to shine, Messier had already put in another solid effort as he took the opening faceoff against Carpenter to start the third. Through two periods, he had won 17 of 20 faceoffs, recorded his sixth point of the series, and showed his typical grit, cross-checking Millen from behind in a play that eluded the officials’ whistles.
“The game, overall, was kind of a blur for me,” said Millen, with disappointment in his voice even some two decades later. “I twisted my ankle when Mess cross-checked me. It was twisted pretty badly. I tried to play through it, but the coaches could sense it. I wasn’t myself. My season ended for me right there.”
Like most who ever played for Lemaire, Millen remains complimentary to this day of the Hall of Fame coach. But as he coaches junior hockey now in Alaska, Millen cannot help but stop sometimes to wonder if things could’ve turned out differently.
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say this: Jacques made his mark on me. He was one of the first coaches that made me really be a thinker out there,” Millen said. “Before him, I just wanted to drop the puck, get after it, and go. That was the type of player I was. But he was one of the smartest coaches I’ve ever seen, he taught the game so well, and that has certainly had an impact on me the rest of my life. And I don’t think I’m alone with that thinking. Do I wish things worked out better in that season? No question. But we were team players on the Devils; we knew what we were after. And to see the team succeed, well, that was Devils Hockey.”
Banged and bruised in the third period of Game 4, New Jersey indeed played Devils Hockey. Chorske, a penalty-killing specialist who was playing his best game, hit a streaking Lemieux for a shorthanded breakaway early in the third. But he pumped a shot right into Healy’s glove. It was a critical save at a critical juncture. Healy, well into the game now, was keeping his team in the game. At 11:19, he was back at it again. The Crash Line had returned to its normal tricks, and Bobby Holik fed Randy McKay in front for a wrist shot. Again, stopped by Healy.
But the Rangers were not building off these saves. In fact, Lowe was snagged for his third minor penalty of the game at 9:29, as he held Richer. The Devils didn’t threaten on the man advantage, but at this point, they didn’t care to. They just wanted to burn two minutes and further frustrate the Rangers.
Enter MacLean, who added a little levity to a tense situation. During the power play after Lowe’s call, Beukeboom and MacLean tangled behind Healy, fell down together, and Beukeboom lost his helmet. He responded by shoving MacLean into the back of the net. When MacLean picked himself up and got his bearings about him, he found the loose helmet and tried to throw it into the stands. It was a short toss, or the boards were too tall; either way, the helmet stayed in play.
The Devils finally got to Healy with 6:00 left, and put the game away, once and for all. Dowd dumped in behind Healy, where the goaltender stopped the progression and left it for defenseman Alexander Karpovtsev. Unfortunately for Healy, Karpovtsev didn’t see it, and Healy was slow to get back to the net. Zelepukin, who had played with an edge all night, swooped in and scooped the puck up, shoveling a neat wraparound backhand to the left side of the net while Healy was still behind it. It was a simple miscommunication between a backup goaltender and a third-line defenseman who hadn’t played together much in the postseason. And it was probably one the Rangers could live with, considering how well Healy played in spot duty. Either way, though, the Devils cashed in at 13:18.
New Jersey 3, New York 1.
Zelepukin, who showed his teammates on this night that he could intimidate the opponent with the best of them, couldn’t help but laugh when he arrived at the bench. It was his fourth goal of the postseason, and sent many of the Rangers faithful unhappily headed for the exits.
The Rangers weren’t themselves after the goal. Lowe, a calm, steadying force on the backline, even dumped Lemieux, but did not get a penalty. Had he, it would have been his fourth of the game.
“By then, yes, the series was really shaping up,” Lowe said. “It was definitely ratcheted up another notch. You could sense that right away.”
The home fans, meanwhile, were finally able to sense a comfortable win. With 4:00 left, there was a consistent, if not loud, chant of “19-40,” as the Devils readied themselves to improve to 5–4 on home ice in the postseason. After two double-overtime games that sandwiched a 4–0 shutout in Game 2, the Devils were able to take a breath, post a 3–1 victory, even the series at 2–2, and leave the ice feeling good about themselves and their place in the series.
Healy was not pulled in the final minute for the extra attacker, as Albelin calmly shoved the puck down the ice with 10 seconds left to end it. Brodeur, as would be his customary move during his career, took a victory swig off his water bottle and waited for his team to come and celebrate.
In a series already stuffed with momentum swings, Game 4 was the Devils’ turn at the plate. Brodeur was sharp, the defense matched him, and by the time Game 5 rolled around, Nicholls would be back in uniform to help the offense.
“I couldn’t wait,” Nicholls said. “Playing in New York, and knowing the rivalry, I think we had already proved we weren’t going to be intimidated there. And we were a better team on the road anyway. Everybody understood that in our room. It became something we fed off. There was nothing better than winning on the road.”
On the other end were the Rangers, stone-faced, gathering around Healy, knowing that there were a lot of questions to answer before the Game 5 puck dropped back at Madison Square Garden.
“There was so much going on with the team at the time,” Mike Francesa said. “It was classic New York. There was turmoil with the coach and some of the players. It all played a part.”
The series, though, was still very much New York’s to lose. All the Devils did, after all, was win a game they had to win. But keep in mind, these were the Rangers, and with a long history of disappointments weighing on their shoulders, fans weren’t sure which team was going show up two days later.
“Most people realized that the Rangers had to do it that year. The Devils were going to have their chances, but with the Rangers, in that year, they had home ice, they had the Presidents’ Trophy, a ton of offense, and a great defense,” Russo said. “Drama and all, that team was primed to win a Cup. It was now or never. Nobody wanted to hear any excuses.”
“Anyone who grew up around the Rangers and with the Rangers as I did, you never felt that anything was going to be easy in the playoffs,” said Howie Rose, the Rangers’ radio voice at the time. “So, knowing the Devils, and knowing the system that they played, which would be a pretty good counter to what the Rangers’ strengths were, I certainly expected a good series. I certainly never anticipated what it would do to people’s intestines and nervous systems and probably take 10 years off people’s lives. I’m not so sure I didn’t sacrifice a few myself.”
Maybe it was fitting that the series was headed back to New York tied 2–2.
After all, this enigmatic, theatrical Rangers ensemble seemed best fit for Broadway.