On a break from picking leaves on the nearby tobacco farm, he limped into the cottage that was the modest home to his parents and three older brothers in Turkey Point, Ontario.

"His feet were sore, and I told him, 'You can't go back to work, John,' " Bert Stevens recalled. "He said, 'Dad, I've got to finish the job.' And that was hard work for a boy that age, working on a tobacco farm. But he wouldn't quit. That was John. Whatever he did, he gave it his all."

John Stevens, now the youngest coach in the NHL at 42, was 11 at the time. But he was already embracing the Canadian work ethic, already learning the value of teamwork by realizing that if he and his brothers labored together on those sweaty summer days at the tobacco farm, they'd finish in time to do what young boys do.

"I was one of the guys who picked the tobacco in the field," the Flyers coach said the other day, setting aside the laptop he was using to brush up on the Penguins, the Flyers' opponent in the Eastern Conference finals that begin tonight in Pittsburgh.

"We'd load them on these carts, and they'd take them to the kiln where they'd hang the leaves to dry. Did everything from hoeing the field to weeding the plants and then harvesting in the fall.

"My three older brothers and I, we all worked there. You'd start at 6 a.m., and if you worked together, you could be finished by 1:30 and still have the rest of the day. It was hard work. It made you appreciate being a hockey player."

Stevens' early appreciation of what can be accomplished when a group works together carried through his 15-year professional career, which was spent mostly in the American Hockey League. At just about every level he played, he was team captain. After he was forced to retire because of an eye injury in 1999, he became assistant coach of the Phantoms. A year later, he was the head coach, leading the Phantoms to the Calder Cup championship in 2005.

Larry Stevens, the second youngest of the four Stevens boys, always figured it was simply a matter of time before John became a coach. The quietest and most studious of the brothers, John always had a keen sense for strategizing and teaching.

"I remember when John played for the Hershey Bears and I went into the locker room after the game to see him," said Larry, 43. "There he was with four little kids, and he was drawing plays on a blackboard for them. He had just finished playing, and he was still in his uniform, but he wanted to teach those kids."

When the Flyers fired Ken Hitchcock and hired Stevens to replace him on Oct. 22, 2006, the general reaction among fans was: Who? Hitchcock had won a Stanley Cup with Dallas and proved to be a winner wherever he'd been. He was an outgoing personality who connected with the fans. But the Flyers said Hitchcock's abrasive approach and distrust of young players were not conducive to developing the prospects who would become the core of the team's future, such as Mike Richards, Jeff Carter and R.J. Umberger.

Although he'd been a Flyers assistant for only a couple of months, Stevens said he was ready for the job. But he wasn't comfortable with the circumstances in which he got it. First, he considered Hitchcock a mentor. Second, he felt partly responsible for the team's struggles. After all, you win as a team and fail as a team.

"Our team was struggling, and I was part of the staff, so I felt responsible as well," Stevens said. "It was a hard time for all of us."

Stevens did nothing to inspire confidence in Flyers followers his first season. The team finished last in the NHL, and there were times this season when it looked as if they would fail again to make the playoffs, even though general manager Paul Holmgren had overhauled the roster.

Soon, Stevens was hearing criticism. These guys needed a tongue lashing now and then, critics said, and Stevens, who carries himself with quiet dignity, didn't have the fire to do it. Look at him. They're losing and he doesn't even seem angry.

Those critics didn't see the competitive fire that rages within him.

"The thing about John is he can give you crap in a way that you thank him for it afterward," Larry Stevens said.

"The last thing I'm going to do is try to be something I'm not," the Flyers' coach said. "I am who I am. I've got a great passion for the game. I work extremely hard to get better, and I have a deep care for our players. That's who I am.

"I do keep my emotions in check. A frightened captain makes for a frightened crew. If a coach loses his composure, the players soon follow, so I think it's important to keep our heads in the game. You can't get caught up in the moment and get too caught up with emotion about one thing in a hockey game."

Asked if he had lost his temper at times, Stevens said simply, "Yes, but it's not calculated."

He won't elaborate. First of all, it's not about him. He's just part of a group effort. Second, he doesn't criticize players in public or humiliate a player in front of his teammates. His strengths are communication and clarification. If there's a problem with a player, Stevens will call him into the office for a private chat. And he makes it clear to the players what their roles are.

"Through that 10-game losing streak we had . . . he'd come in the room and snap, because coaches snap. But on the other hand, he showed compassion with players who were down," veteran defenseman Derian Hatcher said. "Where Ken Hitchcock would yell at you and yell at you, I don't think John is like that. He'll call you into his office and meet with you privately.

"He didn't throw any players under the bus. He believes in what he believes, and he's going to stay on it, and that's what you need from a coach. He lets players have their input, and he's not going to try to reinvent the wheel."

Although Stevens' dream to become a head coach in the NHL was realized more quickly than he had anticipated, nothing came easily.

He and his brothers - Terry, the oldest, is 46, followed by Bob and Larry - shared two bunk beds in that two-bedroom cottage in Turkey Point, a beach town along Lake Erie, where the population quadruples to about 4,000 in the summer.

Bert Stevens, now retired, was a welder. His wife, Audrey, also worked on the tobacco farm.

"They were hardworking people," John Stevens said. "To come from a family of four boys, I think you instinctively have team values. You look out and care for each other."

All four boys played hockey. They learned on a frozen pond near their cottage. Since their father couldn't afford equipment for all of them, John usually got the hand-me-downs. He never complained. In peewee hockey, he once played a game with his big toe exposed because the protective shield and leather had ripped off. Another time, he played with his heel exposed after the back of the skate fell off.

"The round piece came off that covers the heel," Bert Stevens said. "His team didn't have a full lineup, so he played the whole game without getting off the ice. All the fans gave him a big cheer. I still remember running down and hugging him because he worked so hard. Guess he was about 12 years old."

According to Stevens' father, he was a top student who would read Bible passages before going onto the ice and slamming into other kids as a rugged defenseman.

The elder Stevens laughed at the paradox.

"He'd read a little Scripture, then he was the roughest one out there," he said. "The people from the other towns would holler at him because he liked to hit. I used to get a kick out of that. He was a good kid. He never gave anyone any problem. He was always helpful."

Turkey Point is dressed in orange as the Flyers make their unexpected playoff run. Stevens' wife, Stacy, sent a batch of Orange Crush T-shirts to the village. On Saturday night, Bert and Audrey hosted the entire Stevens gang as they watched the Flyers eliminate the Canadiens.

"There were about 15 of us, wearing our orange T-shirts and cheering," Bert Stevens said. "I was so nervous, I couldn't sit the entire game. I think I was as tired as the players afterward. It seems like the whole town is behind John. I take walks in the morning, and people keep stopping me saying they wish John well."

Said Larry: "When the game was over, Mom had some tears, she was so happy for John."

Stevens said he and his family - he has two sons, John and Nolan - spend a week in Turkey Point each summer. Who knows? Maybe on his next return he will bring along the Stanley Cup so they can parade it through the village.

Perhaps they will even cavort through what remains of the old tobacco farm, where Stevens' belief in teamwork took root.