Tropical Depression
Carolina just lost 6-5 in the second overtime to Montreal in Game 2 of their first-round series, putting the Habs up 2-0 on the way home to the Bell Centre for two games that could end this magical year for the Canes.
I suppose it’s early to write an obituary, and I’d love to eat my words. But Carolina probably could have survived either the Cole injury or Gerber’s meltdown. The combination of the two, though, is what killed the Hurricanes. A correspondent to the News and Observer’s playoff blog did the analysis of the Cole injury’s effect on linemates Staal and Stillman, and both averaged half a point per game less after Brooks Orpik broke Cole’s neck in March. Carolina’s offense never recovered.
Meanwhile, Martin Gerber simply ran out of gas: his NHL career high in appearances was 32 before this season, last year was his professional high with 50 split between Switzerland and the Swedish Elite League, but this year he played 60 regular season games plus the Olympics. It proved to be too much, and his mediocre to bad play recently has reflected it. Cam Ward isn’t ready for the full NHL grind yet, but he’s going to have to handle at least 30 games next year. Gerber can’t do this himself.
So you have that confluence of problems. Add the Carolina scheme to that list in the narrow case of multiple-OT playoff games. It’s still a trade-off I’d make in a second, but the high-tempo style the Canes played all year is a detriment if the game goes to lengthy amounts of overtime. Legs are done after about ten extra minutes, and after that you get fatigue penalties, major line mix-and-match (was that Chad LaRose killing a penalty?!), and a set of intractable problems.
Give Cam Ward major credit overall for his play in this game, and he should absolutely start Game 3. But I’ll play the bad guy here myself and point out that, after the Canes took the 4-3 lead, he lost focus for all of a minute, and Montreal made him pay. I’m least worried about him, though. He’s a rookie backup goaltender, he’s here to learn. And he will.
Mostly, I just hate Brooks Orpik. It was a beautiful year before one lousy Pittsburgh thug playing out the string ushered the stench of death into the room. And for it, the new NHL gave him three meaningless games’ punishment.
I guess in some ways we’re still old, snakebit Hartford, even nine years on.
24 April 2006 / 0 Comments / Tags: hockey