Tale of Two Coaches: Ecstasy and Agony : Stanley Cup finals: Penguins’ Bob Johnson, 60, is a Tom Lasorda type; North Stars’ Bob Gainey, 37, is quiet and stoic.

One is the oldest coach in the NHL, the other among the youngest. One exudes enthusiasm, literally pinching himself to maintain his delight. The other agonizes over his role, a dark frown perpetually clouding his face.

One says he wouldn’t mind coaching another 35 years. The other won’t commit beyond the end of the month.

One is 60, the other 37. Figure out which one is which?

Well, figure again.

Sixty-year-old Bob Johnson, coach of the Pittsburgh Penguins, acts as though his team’s trip to the 1991 Stanley Cup finals is a ride on a merry-go-round. Although his club trails, 1-0, heading into Game 2 of the best-of-seven series tonight at Civic Arena, Johnson is still flashing that infectious smile, still bouncing on his toes with anticipation as he talks to reporters.

Thirty-seven-year-old Bob Gainey, coach of the Minnesota North Stars, acts as if he’s on a ride to the dentist’s office. It’s not that Gainey isn’t happy to be here. It’s just that he doesn’t show it.

Even as his underdog club successfully skated through the first three rounds of the playoffs, Gainey came about as close to smiling as George Foreman did to a diet.

Reporters facetiously refer to Gainey as “Chuckles.” Up in Minnesota, they are comparing him to former Viking coach Bud Grant, another reknowned stoic.

Gainey spent 16 seasons playing for the Montreal Canadiens, including five Stanley Cup winners.

He began his coaching career in Europe last season with Epinal, a French second-division team.

“I had nothing else to do,” he said. “I was sort of out of options.”

Not when he was finished.

After a season overseas, Gainey found himself reportedly headed for several NHL coaching openings. Last June, he went with the new regime in Minnesota.

He didn’t exactly make a grand splash into the big time. The North Stars went 5-15-5 in their first 25 games, drawing much criticism and few fans. Gainey, however, kept the faith in his team and his system.

“I knew they weren’t bad people,” he said. “They were just in a bad situation.”

In his short stint, he has already become known for the meticulous preparation of his team, highlighted by its opening-game victory in each of its four playoff series, each time on the road.

But he isn’t overly impressed with the power of a coach to affect the action on the ice.

“A coach chews gum,” Gainey said, “rubs his hands, puts his hands in his pockets, and the players do what they are supposed to do. Or they don’t.”

Gainey has had more important matters on his mind this season as well. His wife, Cathy, had developed a brain tumor, but is showing great improvement after surgery and radiation treatment. It’s not something Gainey talks about.

It was in media-mad Montreal that Gainey learned to mask his emotions.

“I came out of a situation,” he said, “where everyone wants to pick apart everything you do. So, you hide yourself.”

He’s free of that environment now, but landing in the Cup finals has put him in the middle of a bigger media circus.

“This is a joke,” he said, pointing to the huge mob surrounding him at practice Thursday. “Here, you are trying to survive, not accomplish.”

And how long does he plan on surviving in the coaching fraternity?

“At least until the end of May,” Gainey replied. And he wasn’t smiling when he said it.

Over at the other end of Civic Arena, Johnson was all smiles. As usual.

A coaching veteran of 35 years, he has been at every conceivable level. He began at Warroad High School in Minnesota in 1956. Seven years later, he moved to the collegiate ranks at the University of Colorado. After three seasons there, he spent 15 with the University of Wisconsin, where he wound up with three NCAA championships, an NCAA coach-of-the-year award and the nickname, “Badger Bob.”

In 1982, he began a five-year run as coach of the Calgary Flames, gaining a spot in the 1986 Stanley Cup finals, where Calgary lost to Montreal.

Johnson has also coached the U.S. Olympic team, Team USA in the Canada Cup and the U.S. national team, and had spent three years as executive director of USA Hockey, directing the amateur effort in this country, when Penguin General Manager Craig Patrick signed him early last summer.

“I felt we needed someone with vast experience, knowledge and the ability to communicate with young players,” Patrick said. “I couldn’t think of anyone more qualified. In terms of enthusiasm, he is a very young man.”

Johnson is Tom Lasorda on ice, a man who used to listen to martial band music in his car on the way to work to keep his spirit high.

“Now that I walk to work,” Johnson said, “I pinch myself to do the same thing.”

And how long will he go on?

“Until I don’t want to coach anymore,” he told reporters. “I’ll be 95 and you guys will be retired, and I’ll still be coaching. Ninety-five!”

The talk in the Pittsburgh locker room Thursday was predictable. The Penguins know they must win tonight or face a truly uphill battle in Minnesota, where the North Stars are 19-2-2 since January.

The Penguins think they have to do better than one for eight on the power play, have to be tougher defensively and have to break through against Minnesota goaltender Jon Casey and the national anthem singer.

The national anthem singer ?

B.E. Taylor, who served in that capacity for Game 1, received heavy criticism for his drawn-out version, the implication being that it hurt the Penguins to be out on the ice waiting all that time.

“This guy was terrible,” Pittsburgh center Mario Lemieux said.

Added wing Kevin Stevens: “It has to be cut down to the time it’s supposed to be sung. But you don’t want to look for excuses in a guy who wasn’t even wearing skates.”