It’s been a while for a lot of us, so we can be forgiven around these parts if we’d forgotten how excruciating serious postseasons runs can be. And how essential that anguish is to enjoying the ride in full. The Rangers are only halfway there. We don’t know how this all works itself out.
But we remember now that these postseasons are defined every bit as much by their punishments as by their payoffs.
If you are a Rangers fan, there were all kinds of dark thoughts you were fighting off as the third period began Thursday night in Raleigh, N.C. Suddenly the ’75 Penguins were in play, and the ’04 Yankees, and a few others, that private and pitiable club of teams that surrendered 3-0 leads in best-of-sevens. Suddenly a team that had inspired such rare fearlessness in its fans for seven straight games was inflicting torture on them for a third straight.
Until … Chris Kreider. And Kreider again. And Kreider again.
And then the empty-netter that wrapped a bow around this funhouse of a hockey night, that sealed a 5-3 win in the game and a 4-2 win in the series, with a couple of free days to let the Bruins and Panthers beat themselves up some more. Maybe this will be as good as it gets for the Rangers. Maybe in two weeks this will all just be a tease.
But if it isn’t, if there’s a parade in our future sometime in late June, a million hockey fans basking in the glow of a championship, you will remember Thursday night: the despair, followed by the delight; the grimness, followed by the glee.
That’s an integral part of these pathways, after all. Rare are the teams that steamroll their way to the Canyon of Heroes.
Would Mets fans have enjoyed 1986 as much if they hadn’t had to endure the 16-inning water torture of Game 6 against the Astros, then the Houdini-like escape in Game 6 against the Red Sox? Probably. But the fact they had to withstand those moments of dread makes the memory — and the retelling of those memories — all the richer.
Same with Knicks fans who braved two long nights of waiting to see if Willis Reed would really be able to give it a go in Game 7 against the Lakers in 1970. Same with Rangers fans, who endured a string of character tests in ’94 — the comeback in Game 6 against the Devils, overcoming Valeri Zelepukin’s goal with 7.7 seconds left in regulation in Game 7, blowing Game 5 and 6 in the Final against Vancouver — before carrying the Cup.
The Jets always have the wonder of Super Bowl III, but that wouldn’t have been possible without a forever Joe Namath drive capped by a forever Namath strike to Don Maynard in the end zone, bringing them back against the Raiders, late, in the AFL Championship game. The Giants played a splendid game in beating Buffalo in Super Bowl XXV, but never would’ve even gotten on a plane bound for Tampa if not for an improbable, last-second comeback against the Niners a week earlier in San Francisco.
Even dynasties require a little spilled blood among the faithful. The 1998 Yankees — as perfect a team as has ever been assembled — had a queasy moment, Game 4 of the ALCS in Cleveland, trailing 2-1 in games, the home team loading the bases with two outs in the first. Then Jim Thome hit a blast off Orlando Hernandez that each of the 44,981 believed was ticketed for the right-field stands and a quick 4-1 Cleveland lead.
The ball died on the warning track. And the Yankees survived their crucible.
And though the Islanders have a well-earned reputation for being cold-blooded closers during their early-’80s reign, their run nearly ended much faster. In the ’82 opening round, Game 5 against the Penguins, they trailed 3-1 with 5 ¹/₂ minutes left in the third when Mike McEwen and John Tonelli scored to force overtime, and Tonelli added the game winner.
It was the only time in that four-year stretch they faced an elimination game. Without it, they never would’ve reached their shelf in the history books.
And look, sometimes — most times — there is no pay out. Sometimes pain is just pain. Sometimes Adam Wainwright drops a perfect curveball on you. Sometimes Flipper Anderson catches the ball. Sometimes Luis Gonzalez plops one over the drawn-in infield. Maybe there’s an imperfect — or even cruel — ending waiting on the Rangers.
But maybe not.
Vac’s Whacks
The good news: Edwin Diaz is back! The bad news: Apparently he returned from 2019, and not 2022.
I know this doesn’t put me in the same room with a lot of the cool kids, but I loved “Unfrosted.” If it’s not exactly “Citizen Kane,” it did made me laugh for 90 straight minutes, and there’s something to be said for that.
The Giants’ new uniforms look like what would happen if the two Rock ’Em/Sock ’Em Robots collided at full speed.
It took some negotiating, but I finally found a bartender at the hotel bar in Indianapolis to switch one of the 30 or so TVs away from Caitlin Clark just in time to see Chris Kreider do a little Messier-ing on Thursday night.
Whack Back at Vac
Steve Sachs: Definitely one for the ages Thursday. Interesting how they’re drawing the parallels to ’94, and there are many. But the difference is that there’s no Messier, with multiple Cups already, leading the way. Getting to the finals, and winning a Cup, we’re going to need Panarin and Zibanejad along with Kreider to lead the way to a place they haven’t been.
Vac: Though that’s true, I’d also point out that there was a time Mark Messier hadn’t ever won a Cup either … until he did.
Stuart Schimmel: Until further notice, they will be known as “The Mehts,” as no team is any more meh than they are.
Vac: Maybe in addition to having alternate jerseys, teams should have alternate nicknames, too. And this would be a good one.
@CoachToop: Alec Burks — what a professional is all about! Great seeing him get after it. Knicks are going to need him the rest of the way.
Vac: The most stunning development of the postseason was Game 5, the Garden buzzing with anticipation, Deuce-style, and not dread every time he lined up a 3.
JR Roberts: Tom Thibodeau is Pat Riley without the fax machine.
Vac: For those keeping score at home, that’s actually a compliment!
