Sam Donnellon: Flyers undoubtedly 'C' Richards as a leader

MOMENTS BEFORE he made another one of those plays to win a big hockey game, I scribbled these words on a pad:

"Mike Richards gassed."

That's how he looked, lurching forward, chopping to advance pucks even a few feet, falling down, getting up, falling down, hitting someone, getting hit, leaning to poke a puck from danger, to a teammate, to just nudge it over the defensive blue line.

"He has the worst body on this team," Ian Laperriere was saying after the Flyers' 3-2 overtime victory last night. "But he puts his body in front of anything. It might not be a pretty goal, or pretty pass. He might not be flashy like Crosby on the other side of the state. But he's as effective. Or even more."

Richards logged just under 22 minutes last night, playing 28 shifts, playing almost 6 minutes on the penalty kill and just over five on the power play. An exuberant pair of referees sent nine Flyers to the box during the evening, five in the first period alone. And while both of New Jersey's goals were scored with the man advantage, Richards finished with a plus-2 for the evening, which included the exhaustive final assist of the evening.

It was scored even strength. So was his second-period goal, which gave the Flyers a brief lead. That one came on a pass from Dan Carcillo after Simon Gagne dislodged a puck from behind the net. The game-winner followed the same formula, only this time Richards hit Carcillo.

"I don't really know how it happened," said Richards.

Maybe that's because he ended up on his knees, facing away from the play, after taking two big hacks at the puck from the side of the net.

The Flyers had just failed to convert on a power play, thrown four pucks on Martin Brodeur, the Devils 37-year-old goalie, with the usual frustrating result. Somewhere in there, Richards had fallen, gotten up, gotten hit, poked a puck back toward the zone, gotten run into the boards hard a couple of times, taken a stick off his back.

"Define worst body," I said to Laperriere.

"He's built," said the Flyers winger, "like my 8-year-old son."

It's part of why there was concern about him this time last year. Listed generously at 5-11, 195, Richards is neither the fastest skater out there, nor the most deft puckhandler, or particularly crunching with any of his hits. He is a hittee as much as a hitter, and he doesn't concern himself with style points. When many shifts end, and almost all of the ones on the penalty kill, he practically crawls to his spot on the bench.

He was spent by last year's playoffs. So was a prevailing theory. With few options otherwise, coach John Stevens had played him too many minutes to kill penalties in the regular season, needed him too much to keep him off the power play too. It's why the team added Laperriere and Blair Betts over the summer, two grinders who have made a living standing in front of rubber and sticks.

This year the prevailing theory on Richards revolves around his leadership. I've stated my case, that I didn't think he needed the burden of captain two autumns ago, right after signing a big contract. He's quiet, self-motivated, but the team had older and better talkers in Kimmo Timonen and this year Chris Pronger, a guy with his name on the Cup.

Walk the room and you will hear several players mention that he doesn't say very much before games, between periods, in team meetings.

The counter argument, made often by many in the room, including Laperriere and Carcillo last night, is that Richards captains with that exhaustive game of his.

"When your leader and captain goes all out like that it's contagious," Laperriere said. "I'm the oldest on this team and I get goose bumps when I see him hit and just give his body."

Richards was asked what he said to the team going into the overtime.

"Not much," he said. "We just needed to get pucks to the net. There wasn't a whole lot that needed to be said."

The Flyers took six shots in overtime. Two came on that final play, one by Richards to draw Brodeur over, the other by Carcillo after Richards fed him his own rebound. After he scored, Carcillo reached for the heavens, then toppled under a swarm of orange and black - a swarm that did not include their captain.

He was gassed.

Or so I thought.

"I wasn't going to end up on the bottom of the pile," he said.

Did I mention that he's smart too?

Send e-mail to donnels@phillynews.com.

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