The Wonder that Is the NY Rangers

There was a time a few weeks ago that the Rangers owned this ownable town. They were atop their smart division, led by the graceful lumbering of Eric Lindros, under the confident gaze of The Captain Mark Messier, emerging buoyant and victorious from Chaplinesque goalmouth scrums choreographed by Theo Fleury, who is in Recovery.

Their early-season domination of the NHL was an improbable tale that was causing many an 8th Ave. rummy to stare in disbelief at his brown-bagged bottle and toss it over his shoulder for good. The Rangers were second in the conference in total points? It must be the booze, and besides, it's time to save some sovereigns for those cardboard strangers known as Rain-giz playoff tickets. Miss Liberty on the alternate jersey was wearing a smirk, it seemed, as the Rangers barreled through early December in high gear.

Then, about the same time the movie trailer for the remake of Rollerball hit local theaters, suddenly the Rangers' season was asked to step into John Houseman's office. Messier's shoulder went bum, Lindros moved his concussion collection closer to double-digits, Fleury's demons were taunting him on roadtrips when they weren't busy flying around the site of the old Penn Bar.

As the NHL season belched up a new year, the Blueshirts had lost their edge. With a sluggish offense in front of him, goaltending genius Mike Richter worked the crease like a gospel tent, saving 45 or more vulcanized rubber souls per game. Also standing on his head and passing the puck collection plate: Richter's backup, an 18-year-old kid named Daniel Blackburn, a first-round draft pick who spent the past two seasons in the WHL with a team called the Kootenay Ice. The amazing thing about Blackburn is not his precocious composure between the pipes, no. It's the fact that this Montreal-born understudy can easily out fresh-face his star-eyed, All-American boy superior. Canadian Central Casting could send over Blackburn as the dependable kid down the block who will shovel your driveway for a few Loonies and do a good job.

The Mentos-worthy combination of Richter and Blackburn could only look on in mock horror as January 2002 became a water torture. The Rangers' first win of the new year would not come until the Jan. 22 kitchen-sink affair in Nassau County against the resurgent Isles. Blackburn lost his cherry as Ron Low yanked him in the first period after giving up four, allowing a flu-struck Richter to slide off the bench to give a mesmerizing brick-and-mortar reading of The Cask of Amontillado. Once again, Manny Malhotra was not traded and he did more than pull his own weight in a gutsy 5-4 comeback win.

One of the saddest Ranger scenarios this season was back in November and it involved Malhotra. He was again playing the role of the healthy scratch; however, there would be no rest for the well-rested skater. He was instead directed to one of the upper gates at MSG to man an autograph booth while the game was in progress. His teammates were hard at work?Sandy McCarthy opened the contest against Atlanta with an immediate Pier Sixer that took the shovel guy six trips onto the rink to get all of the frozen blood off the ice. And there was Manny with no Sher-Wood in his hands, not getting a chance to live up to his onetime billing as future captain with his M.M. initials. Instead, the young Malhotra stood in his Kenneth Cole civvies toting a Sharpie in the hallways of the World's Most Famously Overpriced Arena.

This organization is famous for such stunts, kind of the same way the Yankees are known for a consistent premature dismissal of talented young cornermen.

So before the Super Bowl finally rolls around, those same daytime juicers on 8th Ave. will probably be back on the bottle, watching the Rangers on tv with double vision as they stare through the windows of the Molly Wee. Maybe they would agree that the upbeat and snappy big-band jingle in the Foxwoods casino commercial has been slowed down a meter or two since Sept. 11? Just checking.

Their January slough of despond was almost enough to drop the Rangers below playoff contention yet again. These revolting developments could possibly spare George Steinbrenner's new local sports cable Gruppe a bunch of headaches come April when the NHL playoffs get under way. If, say, the Rangers are hopelessly out of contention by Groundhog Day, then let the British poet Sir John Betjeman rise from the grave and write the obit. Something like: Come friendly bombs and fall on this season; to make the ice they have no reason; to sharpen a skate 't'would be treason; swarm over, Death!

He could also write about how England yet again has no hockey team in the upcoming winter Olympics. The ice business at hand continues to be about injuries and the compressed schedule and the upcoming goalie's nightmare called the All-Star Game. And that debacle will be shortly followed by the games in Salt Lake City, which will shut down the tv ratings-disaster NHL action from Feb. 14-25. Some of hockey's few remaining Anabaptists are still hemming and hawing about the pros getting to play under the Olympic rings in Mormonland. If the injuries keep up (on pace with last year's record-setting numbers), then those Olympic squads will seem more amateurish than ever. Seven Rangers are slated to skate under the Utah sports marketing torch, representing the U.S. of A., Czech Republic, Russia and The Great White North.

Until then, or at least Groundhog Day, the Rangers' sinking season remains a head-scratcher. Kind of like the Portland-area cartoonist who wondered what would have been the fate of the ancient Mormons had the seagulls arrived not to end a plague of locusts, but instead an infestation of head lice?

Let's see the plausibly-live folks over at NBC answer that one.