Greatest show on ice
Josh Peter | Yahoo Sports | April 10, 2007
There was barely time to gasp.
Sidney Crosby took the pass in the neutral zone. The hockey puck and a defenseman arrived almost simultaneously. Crosby had his head down and …
So this is how it would end. This is how it would end for the player so dazzling that he is supposed to lead the Pittsburgh Penguins back to prominence, reinvigorate the National Hockey League and attract spectators who don't know the difference between a forecheck and a bounced check. This is where the young hotshot would get knocked cold, when a crowd of 16,737 inside Mellon Arena for a game against the New York Rangers in November would stand in shock while someone mopped the blood off the ice and someone else gathered Crosby's teeth, the 19-year-old sensation then leaving the rink on a stretcher and …
Just before impact, Crosby lifted his head. And in that split-second, he saw what no one else did: an escape.
He chipped the puck forward, jumped into the air and spun. The Rangers' burly defenseman sailed past Crosby like a bull through a matador's cape. Crosby rotated a full 360 degrees, landed on his skates, gathered the puck and—in the name of Wayne Gretzky, are you kidding me?—glided forward.
Magic.
Then there was the night Crosby skated toward the net and a teammate fired a pass beyond his reach—or so it seemed. Crosby dove headfirst, stretched out his stick and, sliding across the ice on his belly, not only caught up with the puck but flipped it into the air and past the goalie.
Magic.
Then there was the night Crosby split two defenders, circled around two more opponents as if they were stationary pylons and lifted a backhanded shot past a goalie who looked as stunned as the crowd.
Magic.
"He is human," said Phil Bourque, but the former Penguins defenseman-turned-broadcaster offered no proof. In fact, while watching Crosby during practice earlier this week, Bourque recalled another Crosby highlight and declared, "It's not humanly possible."
It is safe to say that Sidney Crosby, at 19, has altered the notion of what is humanly possible in the NHL.
Last week, he became the youngest player in league history to win the regular-season scoring title. This week, he makes his NHL playoff debut as the baby-faced leader of the most exciting and promising hockey team since, well, since a baby-faced Gretzky laced up his skates with the Edmonton Oilers nearly 30 years ago.
"When it comes to playoff time, that's when the best teams and the best players have to rise to the occasion," Crosby said earlier this week.
Playoff time. Does this mean more magic to go along with the mayhem?
On road trips, especially before games in Canada, the Penguins call ahead for security and check the hotel stairwells for groupies lovestruck by the NHL's pinup boy with the hazel eyes and tussled black hair. When the crowd swells to throngs, they escort Crosby through an alternate exit.
At home games, when the fans gather outside the player's parking lot in front of Gate 2 and plead for autographs, Crosby drives his silver Range Rover to the opposite side of the building, waves to the gaggle of fans that have discovered his secret and heads down a ramp into a parking spot once reserved for the great Mario Lemieux. An arena employee stands sentry outside the Gate 5 ramp and leaves only after Crosby has safely exited, which apparently didn't stop one woman from jumping on the hood of Crosby's car after a game.
Men show up wearing his jersey No. 87. Women show up with homemade signs and banners like the one unfurled Saturday during the Penguins' regular-season finale that read, "I (heart) Sidney. Don't Tell My Hubby."
You deserve to hear more about Sid the Kid and all of the fuss, but first you should know a little more about Bourque, the retired NHL player who swears Crosby is human until he starts recounting the kid's unfathomable plays.
In his prime, Bourque was a hard-drinking and hard-hitting brute. He played with Lemieux, the Hall of Famer, when the Penguins won two Stanley Cups. At 44, with his spiked hair and leather jacket, Bourque still looks like he'd be dangerous with a beer mug or a hockey stick, but he sounded more like a worshipful 12-year-old while watching Crosby at a recent practice.
He wouldn't dare miss a practice, either, because as he drives to the rink he slips into reverie that belies his tough-guy image and finds himself wondering, "What is Sid going to do today?"
"There are times in my day when I think about how the kid goes about his life," Bourque said. "He doesn't cut corners. He does everything the right way. I aspire to live like that. I know it sounds corny, but it's true."
This is what happens to most of the skeptics, and Bourque was once among them.
Believing the hype
He'd heard all about the wunderkind from Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia who had amassed goals and assists at a pace unseen since Gretzky and Lemieux were tearing through the junior ranks. Heard all about the blossoming young star who the "Great One," Gretzky, essentially declared would be the "Next One." Heard all about a prospect so hot that his agent secured $2.5 million in endorsement deals before he even reported to training camp after the Penguins took him with the No. 1 pick of the 2005 draft.
Bourque had even seen some of Crosby's highlights, but he remained unconvinced, knowing a few snippets of video reveal only so much about a player. So Bourque, along with 12 media outlets from Canada and a gaggle of reporters in Pittsburgh, showed up for that first day of training camp in the fall of 2005 to assess things for himself.
This is what he saw:
The kid played defense as if it were Game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals. He dug pucks out of the corner as if he were a muscled defenseman trapped in a sturdy but unimposing 5-foot-11, 190-pound frame. He showed speed, balance and vision. Remarkable vision. Crosby saw not only how plays would unfold before they did but also saw the big picture. He was a singular talent in a sport that required teamwork.
Within an hour, Bourque said, he knew Sid the Kid was the real thing. But no one could have seen what was coming next.
Nine games into the season, the Penguins were winless. Crosby was under attack.
In a game against the Philadelphia Flyers, defenseman Derian Hatcher hit Crosby with a high stick that bloodied his mouth and chipped two of his teeth. He left the ice to get stitched up, returned to the game and proceeded to score the winning goal in overtime in what figured to be characterized as a heroic performance. The next day he woke up to discover the Flyers and Philadelphia media had accused him of "diving," branding him as soft.
The Penguins continued to lose. Their head coach got fired. The new coach immediately designated Crosby an assistant captain. Once again Crosby came under attack, this time for being awarded the coveted "A" on the crest of his jersey before he'd even completed two months in the NHL.
After one horrific loss, all of the Penguins cleared out of the locker room—except for Crosby, who was left behind to face the media alone.
"I don't know what to say anymore," he told reporters with his head buried in his hands. "I don't care what happens, but I am not going to give up."
And he didn't, even after Lemieux, who took Crosby into his home and came out of retirement to help nurture the young star, was found to have an irregular heartbeat and retired for good. Even after Lemieux announced "time is running out" on a way to keep the Penguins in Pittsburgh when his demands for a new arena went unmet. Even as the Penguins were headed for a last-place finish for the fourth straight year despite surrounding their star rookie with veterans that were supposed to turn them into a playoff team.
No, Crosby never quit. Instead, he became the youngest player to score 100 points and finished runner-up as Rookie of the Year.
Selfless superstar
Fast forward six months.
The Penguins were in contention for a playoff spot and Crosby was in Dallas for the 2007 All-Star game. He was eating lunch when a handful of fans came over between bites and asked for his autograph. Crosby, who says no as readily as he passes up a shot at an empty net, obliged.
Frank Buonomo, the Penguins team official sitting at the table, apologized for the intrusions.
"It's OK," Crosby said. "I could be pumping gas in Cole Harbour."
Yeah, and Gretzky could have spent his life delivering mail in Brantford, Ontario.
The night before the All-Star game, Crosby accepted a leadership award from Mark Messier, the Hall of Famer and former teammate of Gretzky's who played on six Stanley Cup champions.
"I think it's clear to everyone that Sidney is becoming everything that he was billed as before he came into the league," Messier said with Crosby at his side. "He's really separated himself from the rest of the pack in the last month and a half."
The separation widened. Following the All-Star break, the Penguins won 11 of 12 games, and Crosby helped set up 19 goals during that stretch. He and the team maintained their momentum. Also, government officials agreed to fund a $290 million arena for Lemieux and co-owner Ron Burkle.
By the regular-season finale, Crosby had clinched the Art Ross Trophy that goes to the league's scoring leader and the Penguins had clinched a playoff berth against the Ottawa Senators. That night, Ray Shero, the Penguins' general manager, watched Crosby pass by in the locker room and shook his head.
"I remember being 19 back in college and I could barely get to two classes in a row," he said. "… He's got a lot on his shoulders. The league looks to him, the organization looks to him."
Crosby may well win the Hart Memorial Trophy as the league's Most Valuable Player, but he's no contender to win any awards for NHL's Most Riveting Interview.
Crosby likes to say that actions speak louder than words, and in his case it's just as well. In interviews, he comes across as courteous but as enthralling as a Zamboni cleaning the ice. But once he's inside the rink, his personality shines.
Checking players into the boards. Digging pucks out of the corners. Trading trash talk with players who try to get under his skin. Playing each shift as if it was his last.
"Sidney is about intensity, about passion, about detail, about conditioning," Penguins coach Michel Therrien said. "You couldn't ask for a better ambassador for the game."
On Fan Appreciation Night, Crosby showed his own. He helped set up both of Pittsburgh's goals in a 2-1 victory over the New York Rangers that further separated him from the NHL's pack of young stars with a regular-season total of 120 points that included 36 goals and 84 assists. It probably should have been 85 assists.
On a power play, Crosby faked out not only the opposition but also teammate Gary Roberts, who was stationed near the net and should have been in position to score. It was hockey's equivalent of a beautiful, no-look pass that bounced off a teammate's nose.
After the game, Roberts, 40, flashed a grin that indicated he should know better.
"There's no doubt you've always got to be alert, you've got to be on your toes and be ready for the quick little play," he said. "He's a step ahead. He already knows what he wants to do but you're thinking he's doing something else.
"You need to always realize that when you play with him you always have to have your stick on the ice. … He can find you where a lot of guys can't."
A step ahead, Crosby graciously accepted congratulations for winning the scoring title but already was thinking about the Penguins' best-of-seven series with the Ottawa Senators that starts Wednesday in Ottawa.
"I'm not going to lie and say I know exactly what to expect," he said.
Crosby acknowledged the unknown with curiosity that bordered on excitement. Phil Bourque could see as much at that practice earlier this week as Crosby went through drills as if he were playing in Game 7 of the Cup finals.
So Bourque will head to the rink in Ottawa on Wednesday and, along with thousands of fans destined for the same arena and hockey fans parked in front of their TV sets, he will ask himself with childlike wonderment, "What is Sid going to do today?"
