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Excuse me if I don't join in the Canadiens' big party

December 4, 2008 12:11 PM | Posted by   Mike Milbury  

Today marks the official start of the Montreal Canadiens’ 100th anniversary.

Pardon me if I don't feel like joining the party.

For the Habs fans, this begins a few months strolling down memory lane. For me, it's like bringing out the skeletons in the closet.

For three straight years from 1977-1979, my Boston Bruins squared off against the Montreal Canadiens in the Stanley Cup playoffs. And three times, we were sent home a little too early.

Porsche vs. pickup

If the two teams were cars, the Montreal Canadiens were the Porsches of the NHL. Sleek, fast, streamlined. The top of the line.

Hall of Famers manned every position. Dryden in goal. Savard and Robinson on defence. Lafleur, Lemaire, Gainey and a host of other talent up front. And the head mechanic was none other than Scotty Bowman, who kept the machine finely tuned.

And the Bruins? We were just an old, rusty Dodge pick-up truck. Hey, nothing wrong with dependability. Throw the key in the ignition, start 'er up and away we went. And damn, we gave that Porsche a run for its money.

In 1977, the Canadiens swept the Bruins in four straight games in the Stanley Cup final. There were some moments of stress for the eventual champs, but nothing they couldn't handle. In 1978, my Bruins came a bit closer. It took Montreal six very tough games in the final to take us out. But it was in 1979 that the old Dodge almost won the Blue Ribbon.

Almost.

The semifinal matchup went to a seventh and deciding game in the old Forum. The Forum, a place with as much charm as an old factory as far as I'm concerned with its chintzy pennants (OK, there were a LOT of them) and a reputation for having ghosts, would be the site of the most memorable game I was ever involved with.

Work ethic took us far

The Canadiens had their Hall of Famers, but we had some talent, too.

Jean Ratelle and Rick Middleton were two of the craftiest players to ever play the game. Brad Park would find his way to the shrine as an incredibly heady defenceman. And on the wings, nobody could outmuscle a team with O'Reilly, Cashman, Jonathan, Marcotte and Wensink. And with the inimitable Don Cherry as coach, the team exhibited a work ethic to overcome any talent deficiencies.

At the end of two periods, the Bruins had a solid 3-1 lead.

As I look back on that night, I can remember the buzz in our locker-room. We were excited. Maybe too excited. And years later, Doug Risebrough told me that the Canadiens’ room had a gloomy, defeated tone. With the talent in there, however, it wasn't a done deal.

In the third, the home team scored twice on the power play to tie the game, but very quickly Boston got the lead back on a goal by Wayne Cashman. Boston was less than three minutes from dethroning the champions.

The infamous extra man

Part of why we held the lead was due to the yeoman-like work of Don Marcotte, who was covering Guy Lafleur. Bowman's strategy was to let Lafleur double shift as much as possible. That is exactly what was taking place in the waning minutes of Game 7. Lafleur stayed out. So did Marcotte while another centre and right-wing replaced Marcotte's linemates. When Lafleur finally went to the bench, Marcotte did, too. In the confusion of the double shifting, Marcotte was replaced by not one, but two left-wingers.

The late John D'Amico was one of the linesmen on this night. Within seconds he spotted the infraction but rather than call it immediately, not wanting to unduly influence the outcome of the game, D'Amico began a slow count of the bodies on the ice, pointing with his finger as he did.

The Bruins bench picked it up immediately. I was screaming at someone, anyone to get off and actually tried to hook a couple of bodies with my stick from the bench.

Fourteen seconds after the error began, play was stopped and the penalty called. FOURTEEN SECONDS!!! That is an eternity and we were given every possible chance to rectify our mistake. Instead, the Canadiens went to the power play where Guy Lafleur would pump a Jacques Lemaire drop pass from the top of the circle past our goalie, Gilles Gilbert, who had been brilliant all night. The clock showed 1:46 remaining in regulation.

We trudged to the locker room shaken but still alive. OT was intense.

Marcotte missed a wonderful opportunity before Yvon Lambert became the hero in overtime as he tipped in a pass for the game winner. This was the same Lambert that I had lined up in the first period and hit as hard as I have ever hit anyone. He was down and out for a good five minutes before being helped to the bench. Somehow, in the great tradition of hockey, he summoned the strength to return and put us away.

End of an era

That game marked the end of a Bruin era.

Don Cherry would leave Boston in a few weeks after a feud with management. Others would follow.

But for one moment of indiscretion, one lapse of discipline, we would have earned a series win over one of the great dynasties of all time.

So while you Habs fans celebrate the occasion with champagne toasts, I will pass. Give my ration of bubbly to Yvon or Guy.

Only the winners get to raise the grape. And the Cup.

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