It can be slippery at the top

There's plenty of hand-wringing going on among Bruins, Rangers and Thrashers fans today, not to mention a fair share of sweaty palms among Flyers and Canadiens backers too.

That's because of those five teams, only three will still be playing hockey once the Stanley Cup Playoffs begin two weeks hence. As of this morning, any of them can finish as high as sixth in the conference. We could go on and on here hashing and rehashing possible playoff scenarios, but the one slot I'm focusing on is eighth place -- the final playoff berth in the East. Much energy, emotion and blood will be expended for the privilege of landing in that spot and the right to face Alex Ovechkin (above) and the Capitals, regarded by many to be the best team in the NHL.

A fait accompli, you say? One and done? As easy as an empty-netter? Just delaying the inevitable tee time by a few more days? Granted, finishing with the best record in the conference over an 82-game NHL season is a pretty accurate barometer of how talented a team is, and a team that good should be rewarded in the playoffs by getting home ice against a team that, well, isn't as good.

But the top seed advancing into the second round of Lord Stanley's playoffs isn't as much of a cakewalk as you might think. Since the NHL adopted its current 16-team playoff format in 1994, there have been eight instances in 32 first-round series when the eighth-seeded team forced the the No. 1 seeded squad to melt their home ice much earlier than expected.

That's a 25-percent chance for a first-round upset, which might not be enough to make Alex and the Caps shake in their skates, but certainly is enough to give them pause. Here's a rundown of such occurrences:

1994 - Sharks (8) def. Red Wings (1), 4-2.
1995 - Rangers (8) def. Nordiques (1), 4-2.
1998 - Senators (8) def. Devils (1), 4-2.
1999 - Penguins (8) def. Devils (1), 4-3.
2000 - Sharks (8) def. Blues (1), 4-3.
2002 - Canadiens (8) def. Bruins (1), 4-2.
2006 - Oilers (8) def. Red Wings (1), 4-2.
2009 - Ducks (8) def. Sharks (1), 4-2.

You'll notice a few things here; in every case, each series lasted at least six games -- at least the higher-seeded team never went down without a fight. Also, the Devils and Red Wings were each victimized in this scenario twice, with the Devils unfortunate enough to suffer a stunning elimination in two successive seasons. The Sharks actually pulled off the coup twice, but are the only team to have the tables turned on them -- by the Ducks a year ago.

You may be wondering how well eighth-seeded teams fared after securing their opening-round shockers. Ultimately, not that well. The 2006 Oilers came within one game of becoming the only eighth-seed to win the Stanley Cup, but they fell in the Finals to the Hurricanes in seven games.

All of which means Ovie and the Caps better keep their heads up, else they could find themselves trading in their sticks for five-irons.

Divine rod

THE FLOOD OF MEMORIES from my table-hockey (or rod-hockey, as some folks call it) post yesterday was too much for one sitting, so as promised, another glide down the slots of plastic pucks past continues.

The Coleco "New York Rangers" hockey game we played incessantly wasn't actually my first table-hockey game. I did have another, smaller version when I was small, which featured the default Canadiens-Leafs matchup, the metal players actually brandishing yellow plastic sticks (as pictured in my blogpost from yesterday). The other feature was a battery-powered actual red light that ignited when a goal was scored. Very cool.

I mentioned that I owned every team at the time; I just read somewhere that the Oakland Seals and Los Angeles Kings players are highly sought-after. Like my old baseball cards, I wish I still had the metal table-hockey players that gave me so much joy as a child. Oh well ...

The preferred offensive strategy -- and one of my favorite moves -- was the centering pass from the wing to the center. If you controlled the puck with your right wing, say, the opposing player's defenseman had to commit to either blocking the path for a centering pass or defending a sharp-angle shot from the wing -- not both. So either way, there would be a scoring opportunity. I found the best way to attack would be to get the puck past the defenseman in the general direction of the slot, while giving the center rod a good shove. Ideally, the flying center would smash the puck toward the net, an almost impossible play for the goalie to defend.

And how about the times the puck would sit tantalizingly on the lip of the goal line? The only way to get it out would be to gingerly try to move the puck toward the post, using the metal post that supported the goalie, and then attempt to clear the puck away by applying just enough pressure to slide it out of danger without accidentally pushing it backward and into the net. All of that while the opposing center would harass the goalie by twisting back and forth at high speed, smashing metal on metal, causing a great deal of noise.

Which is probably why my mom relegated us to the basement.

***

Random thoughts: The last word on destiny pertaining to the Canadian men's hockey team (and the women's, for that matter) -- I never made the connection for some reason, but a couple of days ago I realized the first four notes of the Olympic Theme and "O, Canada" are exactly the same ... So LeBron James has already put in the paperwork to change his uniform number next season from 23 to 6, telling the Cleveland Plain Dealer he wanted to do so as a tribute to Michael Jordan. The more cynical among us might think it a way for the Cavs -- or whomever LeBron plays for next season -- to sell more jerseys, much the way the Lakers happened to sell more Kobe Bryant jerseys when he switched from No. 8 to 24. By the way, LeBron, the Knicks have No. 6 available.

An instant classic, on and off the ice

The greatest hockey game of all time? That's up for debate, but I think Canada's 3-2 triumph over Team USA for the gold medal last night in Vancouver can certainly be included in the conversation of most meaningful sticks-and-blades matchups ever.

Certainly, the Canadians had that extra inner intangible that simply came from wearing the Maple Leaf (not the Toronto one) on their jerseys. It was their game, played in their nation, the Super Bowl, World Series, Stanley Cup Final all combined into one. To win would have been their birthright, their destiny, the scripted finale for this NHL All-Star Team put together to achieve nothing less than a golden moment.

There were similar parallels in Team USA's storyline; the Americans, while evoking memories of the Miracle on Ice in 1980 (more on that in a minute), hadn't lost a game in this tournament. Their roster was also made up of NHL players, but more of the bump-and-grind variety rather than simply the most talented names available. But for Team USA, a loss in the finale would not have the same far-reaching impact it would have in Canada.

Of course, to come so far, play so well, inspire a country that sorely needs inspiring and lose in the final -- especially after Zach Parise's goal with an extra attacker sent the game into OT -- is difficult to deal with. US defenseman Jack Johnson said, "It's devastating. It was the biggest game any of us have played in." Understandably so. And you could see that devastation in Ryan Miller's face during his TV interview just moments after Sidney Crosby's OT goal won it for Canada.

But in time, that will pass. The wounds of defeat will dissipate, and the silver medal will come to mean just that, not a loss in the finals. As Chris Drury said, "No one knew our names. People know our names now." And you could see signs of healing already at the closing ceremonies, just a couple of hours afterward. There was Ryan Miller, silver medal around his neck, with a camera, the beginnings of an actual smile on his face, taking it all in.

But for Canada to lose on that stage? Crushing? Devastating? Humiliating? There may not be a word in the English language to describe what such an unthinkable event would have meant north of the border. Especially when considering the depth of what hockey means there.

And when that puck, propelled by Crosby, already anointed "The Next One," beat Miller and hit nothing but the back of the net, all of Canada erupted in glee and exhaled in relief at the same time. The same could be said for Crosby in particular, who carried that weight and expectations on his 22-year-old shoulders. Not only has he won a Stanley Cup and Olympic gold eight months apart, but in Canada, he now shares a pedestal with Paul Henderson, who scored the winning-goal in the classic 1972 Summit Series, as well as his boss, Penguins owner Mario Lemieux, who scored to defeat the Soviets in the 1987 World Cup.

And how about the parting shot of the Canadians posing for their championship photo while Team USA quietly filed off the ice behind them? Classic.

Certainly, the party atmosphere that was evident during the closing ceremonies inside and outside of BC Place would have been much different if, say, Parise, Jamie Langenbrunner or anyone else in a Team USA uniform had scored in OT. I wonder how the choreography of the hockey-heavy tongue-in-cheek tribute to Canada would have been modified for a silver medal, rather than gold (how great was the re-creation of the table-hockey game on the BC Place floor?).

It was as if it were meant to unfold no other way. Pretty damn close to perfectly, I think.

***

Some, in the excitement of the moment, were prepared to call it the most important hockey game in the history of Canada. Hmm. The Summit Series triumph, smack in the middle of the Cold War, might have been bigger. I'm not sure you can compare the two -- different circumstances, different time, different things at stake.

For us in the US, a gold medal in hockey at Vancouver in 2010 would have been exciting and memorable, but it never could have touched what happened at Lake Placid in 1980 -- a bunch of no-name college kids beating the vaunted and feared Soviets at the height of the Cold War period on American ice. That game transcended sports, and may have been the most meaningful sporting event ever.

The proceedings in Vancouver will certainly claim a spot as one of the best live sporting events for those who were there.

For me, there are two. One was Robin Ventura's grand-slam single that gave the Mets a 4-3 victory over the Braves in Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS. I was there as a fan, about four rows from the top of Shea Stadium. I remember the wave of humanity cascading down the exit ramps of Shea, chanting "Mets in seven." It didn't go that way; two nights later, Kenny Rogers walked in the winning run at Turner Field, giving the Braves the pennant.

Then there was the night Michael Jordan, wearing No. 45 in his NBA comeback, dropped 55 points on the Knicks at Madison Square Garden on March 28, 1995. I covered that one. That doesn't stand out for any particular shot Jordan made, but just how he dominated in every way. Oddly enough, the game-winning shot was made not by Jordan, but rather Bill Wennington, on a pass from Jordan.

***

One last thought on the Olympic hockey experience -- the dynamics of playing for your country one night and, literally, going back to work the next and banging heads against the same guys you just went to war with are fascinating. Consider that Team Canada coach Mike Babcock, less than 24 hours after winning the gold medal, will be coaching the Detroit Red Wings against the Colorado Avalanche tonight when the NHL schedule resumes. One player on his bench will be defenseman Brian Rafalski, who had to watch the celebration as a member of Team USA. Paul Stastny, Rafalski's USA teammate, will play against him as a member of the Avalanche.

Similarly, Parise and Langenbrunner of Team USA will reunite with Team Canada goaltender Marty Brodeur with the New Jersey Devils. The same for Patrick Kane of the USA and Jonathan Toews of Canada with the Chicago Blackhawks. And for Crosby, the Team Canada hero, and USA defensemen Brooks Orpik and Ryan Whitney with the Penguins.

And I'm sure that in all those cases, along with the many more I didn't mention, it will be as if the Olympics never happened. Hockey players are a humble, hard-working lot. Like the old adage goes, the name on the front of the jersey is more important than the name on the back.