STANELY CUP FINALS : A Bit of a Miracle Lasts for 10 Months

Slide me out there on the ice so I can shake somebody’s hand. Put me in line behind the Montreal Canadiens so that I may say to each Los Angeles King: “Good job.” “Nice going.” “Great series.” So I can thank them for their entertainment and their effort. So I can whisper the magic words: “Next year.” And so I can call out as they skate off into the sunset: “Come back, Wayne. Come back.”

What began with training camp 10 months ago at a rinky-dink little rink in Lake Arrowhead came to an end here Wednesday night in the most hallowed hall of hockey, where the Kings were finally put to rest in their 108th game of a sensational season. It took the greatest organization in the game to defeat them, and it left the greatest player in the game and his teammates not so much defeated as exhausted.

Do you still believe in hockey miracles? Uh, no--not today. But that’s OK, because the entire King season was something of a miracle, beginning with the miraculous recovery of Wayne Gretzky, who left camp in too much pain to lift his weeks-old baby, and ending with the team trying vainly to overcome jet lag, back-to-back-to-back overtime back-breakers and a magnifique French-Canadian goaltender named Roy about whom one can only say: “Rah.”

So ends a season to end all seasons. Ice guys finish second.

Oh, the places they have gone. The Kings traversed from province to province, becoming the surprise of the playoffs. A team that had never before played in May lasted nine days into June. A team that on June 25 of last year appointed a new coach straight from the minor leagues witnessed with astonishment as someone who felt more at home a little bit south of Saskatoon took the glamour capital of the United States by storm.

Barry Melrose should have felt helpless as he saw Gretzky go face-to-face with retirement, saw Dave Taylor go down for months with a concussion, saw Paul Coffey pack his suitcase, saw the goaltending go so sour that by season’s end he was even in desperation leaning on Rick Knickle, a lifer minor leaguer. From the greatest start in franchise history, the Kings suffered through indignity after indignity--two losses to San Jose, two to Tampa Bay, a shameful 10-2 loss to Philadelphia, 10-3 to Washington, 8-3 to Boston, 7-1 to New Jersey, 8-3 to the New York Rangers, not so much losses as slaughters.

Instead of panicking, Melrose somehow made the Kings believe in the Kings. This was what some of the players still were emphasizing in their dressing room Wednesday, when all was said and done, at the end of a journey so draining that Melrose even gave them them the afternoon off, calling off the customary daytime skate.

Kelly Hrudey, who went from furious goalie to glorious goalie over the course of a few weeks, said: “In the past, the Los Angeles Kings didn’t care enough about each other. Too many of us had our own agendas. But Los Angeles is the No. 1 place to play in the league, and Barry Melrose made us feel that way. He personally brought us together and made us a team instead of a bunch of individuals.

“Mediocrity just wasn’t accepted any more. We went from an incredible start to a tailspin that lasted so long that we took a lot of heat. And I guess we deserved it. But it made us stronger.

Luc Robitaille seconded the emotion.

“The major thing was Barry,” he said. “He got us through everything--the 10-2 losses, the injuries, Wayne’s thing, everything. Whenever we were down and wanted to quit, he was there telling us to keep believing. He kept saying the same thing, over and over--that if we’re going to win the Stanley Cup, we can’t stop believing. He never talked about getting by the second round of the playoffs. He talked about winning the Stanley Cup.

“And we almost did.”

They almost did because Hrudey did everything but a handstand to stop some of the shots that came his way. And because those Kindergarten King prodigies in front of him, Rob Blake, Darryl Sydor and Alexei Zhitnik--”There’s our future, those three,” Robitaille said--played like old pros. And because Taylor played like he was their age again. And because Charlie Huddy went out there on one leg.

They almost did because Marty McSorley swung and swore and shot and skated and slashed and slammed his way through the playoffs. And because Mike Donnelly, Tomas Sandstrom, Gary Shuchuk and Pat Conacher came through in the clutch when the clutch was never so clutch. And because Warren Rychel and Tim Watters kept banging away, and because Tony Granato kept digging for every free puck, and because Jari Kurri kept his Scandinavian cool at all times and because Jimmy Carson and Mark Hardy made sacrifices for the team and were ready when called.

Frustrating to lose to Montreal in five games?

“It’s frustrating to lose, I don’t care how long,” Hrudey said. “Seven games, seven overtimes, what’s the difference? All I know is that people said Los Angeles had too many distractions, too many girls, too many beaches, too many years without a championship, too much everything to be a winner. And we blew all that you-know-what right out of the water.”

Damn right.

“You know what?” said Rychel, his rookie season over, his team so tired, but its spirit so strong. “Our first game seems like yesterday. And I wish next season started tomorrow.”

Damn right.