The defending Stanley Cup champs in 1933-34. From the Stan Fischler Collection
DIPPING
THE CUP
1928 
33
Although they were born a year after the Americans, the Rangers immediately developed their own legion of fans, and an intense rivalry grew between the two New York teams. Lester Patrick and the Rangers had an advantage, having acquired Frank Boucher and brothers Bill and Bun Cook. Bill Cook led the NHL in scoring in the 1926-27 season, and the Rangers finished first in the American Division while the Americans finished fourth in the Canadian section.
According to Canadian hockey biographer Ron McAllister, the Rangers’ (dynasty was actually born the first night Patrick’s team skated on Garden ice that first season. They faced the Stanley Cup champion Montreal Maroons, who were loaded with such stars as Reg Noble, Hap Emms, Dune Munro, Babe Siebert, Nels Stewart, and Clint Benedict in goal.
To the astonishment of the veteran Maroons, neither team scored throughout the first two periods of play. As the third period rolled on, a stirring crescendo of cheers descended on the Rangers from the highest reaches of the Garden balcony, and the players responded.
Bill Cook stole the puck from the Maroons and sent a pass to Boucher, who relayed the puck to Bun Cook. The Montreal defense boxed Bun into a corner and seemed to have stalled the attack. According to McAllister, “Bun fought and dug like a terrier after a groundhog and sent a pass out to brother Bill. He grabbed it and raced straight in on Clint Benedict to beat the goalkeeper’s dive with a slow shot.
“After what seemed years, the bell rang, and the game was over. Bill Cook and his Rangers had defeated the defending NHL champions! That was the real beginning of the New York Rangers as a hockey team.”
In their first playoff test, the Rangers ran head-on into a hot Boston Bruins team for a two-game total-goals series. In the first game at Boston, the teams skated off with a 0-0 tie, but Boston annexed the round with a 3-1 win at Madison Square Garden.
Patrick realized that some building still had to be done if he was to win the Stanley Cup, and by the 1927-28 campaign, he believed that all the necessary ingredients had been added. All that remained for him was to heat gently and stir.
The Cooks-Boucher line was augmented by a rock-ribbed defense consisting of Taffy Abel, Ching Johnson, and Leo Bourgault. Other stars included Murray Murdoch, Paul Thompson, Alex Gray, Billy Boyd, and Laurie Scott. They formed the nucleus of a team that would be near or at the top of the NHL for years to come. That was the real beginning of the New York Rangers as a hockey team,
Bill Cook was supplanted as the American Division’s leading scorer by linemate Frank Boucher, and the Rangers, after finishing second behind Boston, routed Pittsburgh in the first playoff round. Then they gained revenge against the Bruins with a 5-2 victory in a two-game total-goals series, which catapulted them into the Stanley Cup finals—a best-of-five showdown against the mighty Maroons.
To some observers, it was the hockey duel of the century. The powerful Montreal sextet represented the most hardened professionals on ice.
The Rangers were kids by comparison, but they were enormously skilled and determined. And they had wise Lester Patrick to orchestrate their clever moves.
Playing all the games at Montreal’s Forum because a circus occupied Madison Square Garden, the teams squared off on April 5, 1928, and the Maroons muzzled the Rangers 2-0. That set the stage for one of hockey’s most memorable moments.
During a play in the second game, Rangers goalie Lorne Chabot was severely injured and unable to continue. With no substitute goaltender on his roster, manager Lester Patrick himself decided to skate between the pipes and replace Chabot.
This seemed preposterous. Patrick was all of 44 years old, and his experience as a player had basically been in a defensive position. Only once did he play goal, when Hec Fowler, his goalie on the Victoria Cougars, was thrown out of a game.
Bill Cook scored for the Rangers early in the third period, but the Maroons tied it up. The game went into overtime, and Patrick held fast until Frank Boucher sank the winner at 7:05 of the first sudden-death period.
The Maroons won the third game 2-0, and it appeared that they would dispose of the Rangers. However, the gallant New Yorkers would have no part in any defeatist talk. Chabot was replaced in goal by Joe Miller, who surprised the hockey world by shutting out the Maroons 1-0 in the fourth match.
On April 14, 1928, the climactic fifth and final game was played at the Forum. Once again, the lithe Frank Boucher, considered the cleanest player ever to skate in the NHL, was the hero, scoring the winning goal in the Rangers’ 2-1 triumph. In some respects, it was one of the most exciting scores ever made. The Rangers were playing shorthanded at the time, and Boucher had been dispatched to the ice by Patrick simply to rag the puck and kill time. Nobody anticipated a Rangers goal.
But Boucher controlled the puck at center ice and played it off the boards in the direction of Maroons defenseman Dune Munro. The quick-witted Boucher realized that the puck didn’t have much speed on it and was slowing down midway between himself and Munro. When Munro dashed for the rubber, Boucher realized he had his chance.
Boucher raced against Munro for the puck and fooled him to gain possession. He made a clean breakaway, took aim against Benedict, and scored. Thus, in only their second year of competition, the Rangers were the world champions of hockey.
The Rangers didn’t win back-to-back Stanley Cups, but they continued to be a threat, mostly because of Boucher and the Cook Brothers. “Bill Cook,” said Patrick, “is the brainiest player I ever saw and the greatest right-winger of all time.”
They were good enough to develop into one of the foremost hockey clubs at a time when the NHL was still establishing itself in New York. The Broadway Blueshirts, as they were known in those days, rightfully earned the title of “the classiest team in hockey.”
Lester Patrick’s adroit orchestration of the roster had provided his Blueshirts with the nucleus of a contender for years to come.
The Cooks-Boucher line remained one of the league’s best into the 1930s. Ching Johnson continued to be the defensive cornerstone, while John Ross Roach had become the new goalie.
By the fall of 1932, Patrick had replaced Roach with Andy Aitkenhead as starting goalie—a fortuitous move, particularly in view of the fact that Lester had traded Lorne Chabot to Toronto after the 1928 Cup win. As luck would have it, Aitkenhead and Chabot would face each other in the 1933 Stanley Cup finals.
A native of Glasgow, Scotland, the blond-haired, blue-eyed Aitkenhead caught the attention of fans because he enjoyed wearing a tweed cap while playing goal. Coach Patrick had no problem with it since Andy proved to be an excellent puck stopper.
While Johnson’s 1928 Cup partner, Taffy Abel, had been dealt, the Blueshirts still had a formidable backline, including a new ace, Earl Seibert. The Rangers also had another Siebert, Albert Charles. Better known as Babe, the left wing would win the Hart Trophy with the Montreal Canadiens in 1936-37. It’s noteworthy that Earl Seibert, like Babe, is a member of Hockey’s Hall of Fame.
Complementing the Cooks and Boucher was a corps of gifted young forwards, including Cecil Dillon, Butch Keeling, Art Somers, and Ott Heller. One of the best of all was Murray Murdoch, a dedicated, tenacious forward who would one day set an NHL Iron Man record.
Although Murdoch broke in with the original club, he matured in the early 1930s and would eventually complete 11 seasons without missing a game. He played a total of 508 consecutive games and played in every one of the Rangers’ 55 Stanley Cup playoff contests in that span.
“Lester was getting us ready for another run at the Stanley Cup,” Boucher remembered. “Earl Seibert was just past his teens, but you could see that he was going to be a star. Ditto for Ott Heller. Earl was 6-foot-2 and Ott was a 6-footer, big for their time.”
When the 1931-32 season ended, the Rangers had won their division but were swept in three straight games by the Toronto Maple Leafs in the Stanley Cup finals. It was somewhat of an embarrassment to Patrick because Chabot had won all three games for Toronto.
The Rangers celebrate winning their first Stanley Cup at New York City Hall. Mayor Jimmy Walker is at the center behind the Cup, with goalie Lorne Chabot to the immediate left and coach Lester Patrick to the right. Other stars include Bill Cook (fourth from left) and Frank Boucher (fifth from left). From the Stan Fischler Collection
A year after their first-place finish, the Rangers wound up third in the American Division with a record of 23-17-8; they were only four points behind the division-leading Boston Bruins and actually had the same number of points as Toronto, which led the Canadian Division.
In the early 1930s, the NHL had several ways of determining playoff winners. In the spring of 1933, the first round comprised two games, and the team that scored the most goals was determined the winner.
The Blueshirts faced the Canadiens in the first round and bested them 5-2 at the Garden. The second game finished in a 3-3 tie, giving New York an 8-5 series win.
Detroit faced the Blueshirts in the semifinal round, and this, too, was a total-goals series played in New York. The Rangers won 2-0 and then 4-3, which catapulted them into the Stanley Cup finals.
In those days, the finals were decided in a best-of-five series. As luck would have it, the Rangers faced Toronto, which had I just played the second longest game in NHL history against the Bruins. It had lasted through six overtimes plus change before the Leafs won.
“When the Toronto players came to face us at the Garden for the opener [on April 4, 1933], they were dead on their feet,” said Boucher. “We had no trouble beating them 5-1.”
After Game 1 at the Garden, the next three contests were played in Toronto starting four days later, giving the Leafs a much-needed rest.
A refreshed Toronto squad took a 1-0 lead early in the first period of Game 2, but after that, Aitkenhead shut the door, and Heller, Bill Cook, and Earl Seibert scored for New York.
The Leafs finally broke through in Game 3 when Red Horner shattered a 2-2 tie at 8:29 of the third period, forcing a fourth game.
Chabot played well for the Leafs in Game 4, but Aitkenhead was even better.
After three periods of regulation play, neither team had scored, and the contest went into overtime.
With seven and a half minutes gone in sudden death, the Cooks-Boucher line was on the ice. Patrick decided that it was time for a change, and Bun Cook skated to the bench while Butch Keeling took his place.
Boucher remembered the following sequence well: “Bill and I were heading for the bench, too, when suddenly, Butch came up with the puck and fired a rink-wide pass to Bill, who, seeing an opening and Butch with the puck, had quickly switched direction.”
Bill nabbed the puck close to the right boards at the Toronto blue line and then swerved left toward the goal.
When the Rangers right wing looked up, he could see air on Chabot’s right.
“Lorne gave me the whole stick side,” Cook recalled. “I shot the puck at that opening.”
The Toronto goalie moved too late; the red light flashed, and the Rangers had won their second Stanley Cup in only seven years.
As it happened, the second championship would be the last shining moment for future Hall of Famers such as Boucher, the Cook brothers, and Ching Johnson.
The next two seasons saw the Blueshirts ousted in the first round by teams from Montreal, first the Maroons and then the Canadiens.
Age had caught up with this singularly outstanding inner core of stars, and by 1935-36, the Rangers failed to make the playoffs all together.
Lester realized that it was time to rejuvenate his team, and soon players such as Babe Pratt, Phil Watson, Alex Shibicky, and even the manager’s two sons, Lynn and Murray Patrick, were being developed in the Rangers’ farm system.
Each would be pivotal in leading New York to a third Stanley Cup in 1940, following in the skate steps of their Cup predecessors in 1928 and 1933.
VICTORY
1940
Had Rangers president, general manager, and coach Lester Patrick succumbed to charges of nepotism, his club would never have blossomed into a dominant team in the late 1930s and early 1940s, and it certainly would never have won the Stanley Cup in 1940.
But in his sons, Lynn and Murray, or “Muzz,” Lester saw two gifted hockey players who belonged on the team whether the fans and newspaper critics liked it or not and whether Lester liked it or not—because he, above all, was extremely wary of having even one, let alone two, of his boys skate for the Rangers.
Patrick had carefully watched his sons’ development from their days as amateur athletes. “The most amazing thing of all,” said Lester, “was that the situation was never planned or even dreamed. I never steered or pushed the boys. It just happened.”
When Lester opened the Rangers’ training camp that autumn of 1933, Lynn had earned a starting assignment with the strong Montreal Royals’ amateur team, a farm club of the Maroons.
Muzz was not inclined toward hockey at that time. An 18-year-old who weighed in at 215 pounds, Muzz preferred pro football and six-day bicycle racing. When watching the competitor in action, an insightful athletic critic could tell that Muzz had the rare spirit of a winner.
His father was just such a critic.
“Muzz,” said Lester, “had started that six-day race with Gerard Debaets of Belgium. He was pushed around, bounced on and off the track like a handball. He was big and fast and game, but he wasn’t a six-day bike rider. Well, he was for a while. He stuck it out gamely through the fourth day, but injuries made him quit. I hoped this had cured him of six-day riding, and it did.
“Now, he decided to become heavyweight champion of the boxing world. When? As soon as the track season was over. He had promised to run the half-mile. He did, too, in June, and he set a new record.”
Meanwhile, Lynn had played so well for the Royals that Lester invited his son to the Rangers’ training camp in the fall of 1934. Lester was critical of Lynn. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of favoritism. Above all, Lester wanted a winning team, and he certainly didn’t think that Lynn had matured enough for the Rangers. But when he told some of his associates so, they disagreed.
“Are your eyes going bad, Lester?” Frank Boucher asked. “Lynn is a pro. He’s ready.”
Boucher wasn’t alone. Several of the Rangers pestered Lester, but Bill Cook’s opinion was the one that mattered most. The team’s captain was persuasive. “You’d better sign the boy to a contract before somebody else does,” he warned.
That did it. Lynn was signed to a Rangers contract and assigned to the third line.
Lester’s son was to be tested by opponents and fans alike. They reddened Lynn’s ears, calling him a prima donna and a daddy’s boy, but Lynn was too strong a character and too good a hockey player to be thwarted.
Perhaps the best proof of Lynn’s ability was provided by none other than Conn Smythe, who offered Lester $20,000—at that time, a lot of money—for Lynn less than two years after he made his New York debut.
That left only Muzz on the sidelines, and Lester worried about him, concerned that the big fellow would get hurt as a boxer.
But Muzz could take care of himself. He knocked out 203-pound Phil Keating in two rounds and won the Amateur Heavyweight Championship of Canada all before he was 21.
Muzz studied under veteran trainer Jimmy Bronson at Stillman’s Gym in New York City. The plan was to move Muzz into the pro ranks on June 28, 1936, but first he was scheduled to meet Bill Gould for the Catholic Youth Organization’s championship. The date was May 11, 1936, and Muzz ousted Gould. He was ready to go pro, or so Bronson thought.
What Muzz neglected to tell the trainer was that he had made a promise to his mother that he would quit the sport after he fought Gould, and he kept his promise. Bronson’s heart was broken, but boxing’s loss turned out to be hockey’s gain.
Lester was as careful easing Muzz into the NHL as he had been with Lynn. The youngster was broken in with the Rovers, the Rangers’ top amateur team, then Philadelphia, a strong minor-league pro club. By the 1938-39 season, the two Patrick boys were Rangers teammates: Muzz played defense and Lynn left wing.
The Patrick boys lifted the Rangers to heights experienced only by the Cook brothers and Boucher. The Cooks were gone, and Boucher had moved behind the bench to coach the Rangers while Lester handled the managing.
They were a marvelous crew, finishing second behind Boston in the 1939-40 season, but knocking the Bruins out of the playoffs in a six-game opening round. Some observers believed that Muzz provided the inspirational lever over Boston. Until then, the Bruins had been a hard-rock crew, dominated by the ever-rough Eddie Shore. But Shore overdid it on one occasion, and Muzz moved in on Shore and battered him to the ice. The Bruins were never the same.
The Patricks were not the only brothers making the Rangers a winning team. Neil and Mac Colville worked the second forward line with Alex Shibicky. The trio would have been a first line on any other team but on the Rangers, whose top unit comprised Lynn Patrick, Phil Watson, and Bryan Hextall.
Boucher once described that line and some of his other aces thusly: “Phil, the center, was a very unusual fellow with a most unusual temperament. Despite his Scottish name, he was a Frenchman, either laughing in a high-pitched squeal or so low in spirits as to be in tears. His volatile nature surfaced particularly later on, when he became the Rangers’ coach in the early 1950s. If the team was doing well, he’d beam and preen and shout, ‘That’s my boys!’ When we lost, though, he’d grow bitter and shriek at his players, often in front of the writers.
“When he was excited, Phil’s English grew confused, and he was almost always excited in his early years with our club. Once, Johnny Gottselig, the great old left-winger of the Hawks, was needling Phil on the ice, and finally, in exasperation, Phil screamed at him, ‘You . . . you . . . you been-has, you!’ Gottselig was leading the Hawks in scoring at the time.
“Hextall was Watson’s right-winger; though a left-hand shot, [he was] a hard rock of large bone structure and taciturn nature who could score off his forehand or backhand equally well. I always dreaded playing Detroit when the Wings had a body-thumper named ‘Black’ Jack Stewart on the defense. Every time they met, ‘Hex’ and ‘Blackjack’ belted each other. Neither would give ground, so it was a succession of hammerings which could be heard all over the arena. Surprisingly enough, neither ever seemed to lose his temper; they simply reveled in the bumping.
“We used to alternate Clint Smith, Alf Pike, Dutch Hiller, and Kilby MacDonald on our third line. Smith, called ‘Snuffy,’ was a small fellow but exceedingly clever. He was hard to hit and was an expert on face-offs and digging the puck from the corners. Pike, who, like Lynn and Neil and Phil, would coach after I was named general manager, joined us in my first season as the team’s deep thinker. He’d been an outstanding Junior player in Winnipeg.
“I remember that a few days after he reported to training camp in the fall of he and Lester got bogged down on contract negotiations. When Alf told me that the difference was $500, I told him that if Lester didn’t give it to him, I would. As I’ve said, I was making $4,500 then, but I was determined to succeed and was convinced Pike would help us. And so Alf went to Lester and told him he’d decided to sign. Lester was puzzled, naturally enough, and probed Pike to find out why the boy who’d been so stubborn had suddenly relented, and finally Alf admitted I’d said I’d give him the $500. Lester bawled the hell out of me for being soft, but my gamble—for it really had been that, I suppose—paid off; Lester came up with the $500.
“Dutch Hiller was the best skater on a club that could fly—a team whose skating and puck-handling abilities often have reminded me, in retrospect, of some of the best Montreal Canadiens freewheelers. Dutch wasn’t too big, but he simply glided with an unusual gait in which he seemed to lift himself above the ice with each stride, and he became a consistent scorer, too. Kilby MacDonald was also a smooth, assured skater with a gliding stride. He could play on any line, filling in if players were injured, and was great to have around—pleasant, friendly, outgoing. All in all, it was a wonderful team. In fact, I’ll say it now: it was the best hockey team I ever saw.”
The semifinal victory over the Bruins sent the Rangers into the Cup finals against the Toronto Maple Leafs, a team that had finished eight points behind New York during the regular schedule but was capable of winning big games. Because of commitments at Madison Square Garden, the NHL decided that the first three games of the best-of-seven series would be played on New York ice, and the remainder would be fought in Toronto. But after the second game, the circus showed up a day early through some misunderstanding, and the Rangers and Leafs were forced to finish the series in Toronto. This change unnerved the New Yorkers, who had won the first pair of matches at home by scores of 2-1 and 6-2.
Playing before their home crowd, the Maple Leafs rose to the occasion, tying the series on 2-1 and 3-0 triumphs. The Rangers appeared to be in trouble—until the Patrick boys took over.
The fifth and pivotal game went into sudden-death overtime tied at 1-1. Back and forth the players raced in the extra period, desperately trying for the score. More than 10 minutes had passed without a red light when Lester Patrick watched his son, Lynn, clamber over the boards with linemates Phil Watson and Bryan Hextall.
A masterful playmaker, Watson dispatched a neat pass to Lynn Patrick, who hurled the puck past Toronto goalie Turk Broda at 11:43 of the overtime period. The Rangers were winners, 2-1.
New York needed only one more win to capture their first Stanley Cup since the halcyon days of Boucher and the Cooks, but Toronto wasn’t about to play dead. The Leafs held the Rangers to a 2 tie with only three minutes remaining in regulation time.
At that point, Watson appeared to have beaten Broda cleanly, but the referee disallowed the score on the grounds that a Rangers player had one foot in the crease, the line that runs a yard in front of the goal. Watson was so piqued by the decision that he spat in the referee’s face and somehow managed to get away with it!
Once again, sudden death was required. Both Lester Patrick and Boucher valiantly tried to keep the players motivated after the depressing setback on Watson’s near-goal. Apparently, they succeeded. Lynn Patrick’s line took the ice, and with 2:07 left in the period, Watson passed to Bryan Hextall, who fired the puck past Broda. This time, the goal was irrefutable; the Rangers had won the Stanley Cup!
The next season, 1940-41, was virtually the last Lynn and Muzz played together. World War II had begun, and Muzz had joined the U.S. Army. He was the first NHL player to do so. Starting as a buck private in Italy and France, he came out five years later as a captain.
Lynn played on, recording his greatest years. In 1941, he scored 44 points and tied Hextall for the most points scored on the club. The next year, he scored what was then a remarkable total of 32 goals, second only to Bill Cook in Rangers history at that time. In 1943 he led in assists with 39 and points with 61. Then he entered the army as a private, emerging two years later as a first lieutenant.
The 1940 Stanley Cup victory was the Rangers’ last for a long time. When Muzz left for the armed forces, a good chunk of the New York spirit departed, and Lynn’s exit severely depleted the team’s resources. When the war ended, the brothers tried to pick up where they had left off with the Rangers. But they just didn’t have it anymore.
It was appropriate that soon after Lynn and Muzz retired as players, their dad, Lester, the illustrious “Silver Fox,” retired from the Garden after 20 memorable years.
Who would have believed that it would be 54 years before the Rangers would win another Stanley Cup?
THE GREATEST CUP
TRIUMPH
1994
By the start of the 1993-94 season, Rangers fans had become sick and tired of hearing the chant “1940,” which had been constantly uttered by their rivals on Long Island.
Of course, the taunt referred to the last time the Rangers had won the Stanley Cup. The number of years had reached 53 once the season began in October of 1993.
In a sense, the philosophy of Rangers rooters echoed the sentiment of former National Hockey League president John Ziegler. It was Ziegler who once observed of every NHL team, “What we sell is hope!”
And Rangers fans had considerable reason for optimism as the 1993-94 season unfolded.
Under GM Neil Smith and head coach Mike Keenan, the Blueshirts had crafted a solid lineup with a three-part foundation—captain Mark Messier at center, Brian Leetch on defense, and Mike Richter in goal.
With the likes of Sergei Zubov, Adam Graves, and Alexei Kovalev, the supporting cast was formidable as well, although it would be significantly improved by a spate of late-season trades.
The season began quite well for the Rangers—there were no injuries to speak of, and the players seemed to be in cohesion with each other. Keenan’s squad was in position to make the postseason. However, the Blueshirts still felt something was missing and made key swaps to pick up Craig MacTavish, Glenn Anderson, Brian Noonan, and Steve Larmer.
By the end of the season, Richter had set the mark for most wins in one season by a Rangers goalie (42), Graves had set the mark for most goals in one season by a Ranger (52), and the Blueshirts had won the Presidents’ Trophy and were favorites to win the Stanley Cup.
But before reaching that point, the Rangers had to win a couple of preliminary rounds. The first was against the Islanders, and it was during this series that the Blueshirts exacted revenge for their 1993 playoff elimination.
Although Ron Hextall had played erratic goal for the Isles during the 1993-94 campaign, he was sensational, shutting out Tampa Bay in the final week of the homestretch and guaranteeing the Isles a playoff berth. Hextall’s experience and competitive fire were considered assets for an Islanders team that entered the postseason round as distinct underdogs.
Inexplicably, Hextall turned sieve in the opener at the Garden. He was beaten early and often, and when the dust had cleared, the Rangers had six goals and the Islanders none. This time, the final score was a precise barometer of play on the ice.
For Game 2, Islanders coach Al Arbour tried young Jamie McLennan in goal. He was more sacrificial lamb than netminder. The final score read Rangers 6, Islanders 0. Once again, the count fully reflected the play. The Isles were totally humbled. There was nothing—absolutely nothing—positive to say about them. The Rangers, on the other hand, played like a perfectly balanced machine.
In a one-sided series such as this, the dominant club usually suffers a letdown, but such was not the case as the teams moved to Nassau. Hextall was futile again in Game 3—a 5-1 Rangers triumph—and then went down in flames 5-2 as the Blueshirts mercifully sent the Islanders on vacation.
In the next round, Washington at least won a game—but only one—as the Rangers took the opener against the visitors, 6-3, and followed with another Garden victory, 5-2, and a Mike Richter shutout in Game 3, 3-0. Finally, the Caps interceded with a 4-2 edge before the Rangers ended it with a 4-3 clincher on Seventh Avenue.
Thus, the Rangers now collided with the Devils in Round 3. Here was a match made in promotional heaven, and the good news for Rangers fans was that the Stanley Cup favorites had won all six of the games played against the Devils during the regular campaign.
“But,” noted Devil’s captain Scott Stevens, “that was one season, and this is a new one.”
“We have a great deal of respect for the New Jersey Devils,” said Keenan when a reporter suggested that his club might continue its mastery and sweep the series in four.
The respect was well founded. Down a goal to New York in the opener and seemingly out, New Jersey refused to wilt. With Martin Brodeur replaced by a sixth skater, the Devils stormed the Rangers’ zone in the final minute and tied the score when Claude Lemieux knocked the puck past Richter from a scramble in front.
The stage was set for New Jersey’s Stephane Richer’s magic stick, and it delivered. Having spoiled a Leetch assault after 35:18 of sudden death, Bobby Carpenter flipped a delicate pass to Richer along the left boards. With only Adam Graves between him and Richter, Richer went into overdrive, outflanked Graves, and flipped the rubber over Richter just as the goalie attempted his poke check. The red light flashed at 35:23 of overtime.
The 4-3 New Jersey triumph brought many ramifications. Most of all, it served notice to one and all that the Devils were prepared to give their rivals from Manhattan an intense run for their money.
Not that the Rangers didn’t expect it. They sprinted from the gate in the opening minutes of Game 2 at the Garden, scored an early goal, and then repeatedly repulsed the onrushing Devils. The score remained 1-0 into the third period, but Lemaire’s shooters couldn’t find an opening, and New York eventually pulled ahead to win 4-0.
One thing was certain: an immensely entertaining and pulsating series was now well underway, even outdoing its early promise. Game 3 fulfilled the script with yet another Devils comeback and more overtime. But this time, the other team won. Stephane Matteau swatted a loose puck, which found its way through the labyrinth of legs and behind Brodeur at 26:13 of overtime.
Everyone agreed that Game 4 would set the tone for the rest of the series. A Rangers win would put the Devils in a precarious position, whereas if the home club victory could tie the count, anything could happen.
It was a vintage win for the Devs. Brodeur was immense; the defense had a Gibraltar-like quality, and the forwards, when not tending to their checking, sallied forth and produced three goals to the visitors’ one.
The Devils’ optimism was now on the rise. They returned to Manhattan and spanked the Rangers 4-1 in a game that they had led 4-0.
One game away from the Stanley Cup finals, the Devils were not receiving the media space that one would have expected under the circumstances. Much attention was given to the Rangers’ front office turmoil and Messier, who had captured the imagination of New Yorkers with a daring ploy. The star had gone on record predicting a New York victory.
Game 6 took place Wednesday, May 25, 1994, at the Meadowlands. It was a contest filled with amazing twists and turns and with for a single constant—excitement.
The capacity crowd of 19,040 was treated to a first period dominated by the home club. New Jersey exited with a 2-0 lead on goals by Scott Niedermayer and Lemieux. Every aspect of coach Jacques Lemaire’s game plan was working, a fact not overlooked by the New Yorkers. They were a dispirited lot heading into the dressing room, and their mood was reflected in the first half of the second period. Wave after wave of Devils poured through the Rangers’ defensive lines, hurling innumerable volleys at Richter. The third—and very likely series-crushing—goal appeared imminent. But alas, it never came.
Still, if New Jersey could carry a two-goal lead to the dressing room with 20 minutes remaining, it would be tough for the Rangers to rebound. However, one Devils mix-up allowed Alexei Kovalev a bit of skating room, and the sharp-shooting Ranger rifled a shot past Brodeur. Instead of a three-goal cushion, the Devils had to contend with a fragile one-goal lead going into the third period.
Sure enough, the Rangers broke loose for three unanswered third-period goals to annex the game 4-2. Messier had made good on his promise with a hat trick, including the turning-point third-period goals.
Along with Game 6, Game 7 is now regarded as one of the finest playoff games in the NHL’s long history. The Rangers took an early lead and carefully defended Richter’s one-goal margin through the first, second, and most of the third periods. Still, the Devils fought back and finally removed Brodeur for a last, desperate effort.
The final thrust began when Bernie Nicholls won a face-off in the New York end. Suddenly, a play was in motion that culminated with Valeri Zelepukin camping in front of the net in position to deposit the puck behind Richter with only seven seconds remaining on the clock. It was overtime yet again.
“I told my players to be patient,” said Lemaire, “and not make any mistakes that would give the Rangers a scoring opportunity.”
At one point, the Devils appeared to have the winner. Richter skated to his right boards to field a loose puck, but the Devils’ Billy Guerin lost sight of the biscuit. By the time he took possession, the Rangers’ net was covered and the threat nullified, enabling the game to grind into a second overtime.
The series finally ended after an attempted Devils clearing pass was retrieved by Matteau, who moved down the left side and then swerved behind the net. Being checked by Scott Niedermayer, the Ranger attempted a desperation centering pass, yet somehow jammed the puck in the corner of the net.
For the Rangers, the moment was sheer ecstasy. The Blueshirts knew they had defeated a formidable opponent. More than that, Messier had lifted himself to the legendary status of Babe Ruth when he predicted the sixth-game victory and then captained his club to wins in both Game 6 and Game 7.
But for Blueshirts fans, the best was yet to come. They had now reached the Stanley Cup finals. For the first time since 1979, they were only four wins away from winning the championship. Their opponent would be the Vancouver Canucks, who, despite the presence of superstar Pavel Bure and dynamic leader Trevor Linden, seemed less threatening than the Devils.
If ever there was a strange scenario leading up to a championship, this was it. The Rangers’ general staff—coach Mike Keenan and president/general manager Neil Smith—were at war with each other. For the most part, the battles were subdued and contained behind closed doors. But enough leaks reached the media to inform both print and electronic journalists that a struggle existed between the two power brokers of the Blueshirts.
Nevertheless, a Cup had to be won, and that took precedence over everything else. The series opened in New York, and Vancouver rallied to tie the score 2-2 late in the third period. To the utter deflation of the Garden crowd, Greg Adams beat Mike Richter in overtime and the Canucks had a one-game lead.
The Blueshirts rebounded for a 3-1 win and then swept both games in Vancouver for a three-games-to-one lead. If ever there was cause for premature rejoicing, this was it. Coming home to a wild, madly deafening Garden crowd should have been enough to deflate the Canucks.
In his book, Losing the Edge, New York Daily News reporter Barry Meisel summed up the feeling along Broadway as well as anyone: “The city of New York considered Game 5 a coronation, not a contest. The monster of MSG did not consider defeat even a remote possibility. The wildest party in 54 years was scheduled to begin a few fashionably late minutes after 8:00 p.m. on Thursday, June 9, 1994, at the corner of 33rd Street and Seventh Avenue in Manhattan. No RSVP was necessary.
“The players who weren’t too excited to fall asleep for their afternoon snoozes made their celebration plans in the morning. Tickets had to be distributed, family gatherings planned, friends alerted. The PR staff fielded calls from the Late Show with David Letterman, Good Morning America, and every other self-respecting media outlet that hadn’t hopped aboard the bandwagon. The mayor’s office wanted to make parade plans. The New York City Police Department had to prepare for a jubilant riot”
The riot was not to come, nor was the Rangers victory. What appeared to be a fait accompli turned into a letdown. The Canucks won 6-3, sending the series back to Vancouver. On top of that, a report had surfaced that Keenan had agreed to become general manager and coach of the Red Wings after the season. In fact, no deal had been completed, but the rumor was enough to set off a chain reaction of assertions and denials that lasted through the series and beyond. As for Game 6, it kindled the worst fears of any Rangers fan. The Canucks won 4-1, sending the series back to the Big Apple.
“If they beat us three straight,” said Messier, “the Canucks deserve to win the Stanley Cup.”
Keenan delivered what some considered his most arresting speech before the final game. The Rangers then took the Garden ice and the game into their hands. They jumped to an early lead and built on it. They had a 2-0 advantage five minutes into the second period, and the situation seemed well in hand until Trevor Linden scored a short-handed goal at 5:21. But Messier fattened the lead to two and the Rangers took the ice to start the third with what appeared to be a thick cushion.
However, the ubiquitous Linden scored on a power play at 4:50 of the third, sending the Rangers into a defensive shell. Often, such ultra-conservative play is a prelude to disaster, but the Rangers were willing to gamble. The lead remained intact as the clock ticked down below the five-minute mark. At that point, a Canucks youngster named Nathan LaFayette came within an inch of bursting the balloon. His shot hit the right post behind Mike Richter but bounced away without causing any harm.
As the overflow crowd bit fingernails, held its breath, and prayed, the Rangers ran through four more face-offs in their own end before the clock ran down to 0:37.8 and then 0:28.2 following two more face-offs. Once again, the puck was iced, and the last face-off was held between Craig MacTavish and Pavel Bure. The Ranger won the draw, pushing the puck into the corner, where Steve Larmer pinned it against the boards.
That did it. The Rangers had won their first Stanley Cup in 54 years, and their followers no longer had to listen to chants of “1940, 1940!” from their Islander counterparts.
The cheering was clocked at seven minutes minimum, after which the Stanley Cup made its appearance. The time was 11:06 p.m. when commissioner Gary Bettman proclaimed, “Well, New York, after 54 years your long wait is over. Mark Messier, come get the Stanley Cup.”
Thus, the 1994 champions moved alongside the Rangers’ 1928, 1933, and 1940 Cup winners as one of the outstanding clubs in New York hockey history.
