Loooooonging for the winner

Overtime in the playoffs continues until a goal is scored, which makes for highs, lows and tired players.

With the flick of a wrist, it was over.

After more than 100 minutes on the ice - five periods plus change - spanning nearly 41/2 hours. After countless energy bars, fresh fruit and enough Gatorade to float an armada. After silent intermissions and several changes of sweat-soaked undershirts.

Beyond fatigue, into exhaustion.

And it was over just like that.

When Martin St. Louis spun and whipped a shot over the shoulder of Washington's Olaf Kolzig during the East quarterfinals of the 2003 playoffs, his goal not only ended the series, but the longest game in Lightning history.

Longest, until two weeks later.

Welcome to the conference semifinals, home to some of the longest games in NHL history. Unlike the regular season, when ties are acceptable, even welcomed, every game in the playoffs must have a winner. Even if it takes all night.

"It's such an exciting thing, overtime hockey," Lightning assistant coach Craig Ramsay said. "Every shot is vital. Every shot is series-threatening. And when Marty wheeled around and fired that one up in the top of the net, it was really quite a shock. Everybody is cruising along, and then that one shot and it's all over. It's wonderful."

And grueling.

And exhausting.

And numbing.

"As the game keeps going on and on, you kind of lose focus that one goal could really end it," veteran forward Tim Taylor said. "You're in a zone and trying to make sure you do all the little things, and when a team scores, you're like, "Oh my God, the game is over."'

The 2003 playoffs featured 22 overtime games, including the fourth-longest in NHL history, Anaheim's 4-3 victory against Dallas that ended in the first minute of the fifth overtime during the West semifinals. In the same round, the Lightning was eliminated by the Devils 51:12 into overtime, the longest game in Tampa Bay's history.

This season, the first round produced nine overtime games.

As if the playoffs were not pressure-packed enough, the intensity level escalates in overtime, when the smallest mistake can spell doom - and no one wants to make it. Play itself becomes simple, with much of the action taking place in the neutral zone. Were it not for the tantalizing element of sudden death, it might even seem boring.

"You don't see a lot of the big, fancy plays," defenseman Cory Sarich said. "All you see are a lot of long shots and jam plays around the net. You're hoping for the other team to make a mistake or the opposing goalie to make a mistake. It's almost like a matter of survival when you get to that point."

From behind the bench, there is not much Lightning coach John Tortorella can tell his players as a game reaches its fourth, fifth and sixth periods. By then, coaching gives way to cheerleading.

"They've tuned you out," Tortorella said. "There's no sense of going over any X's and O's. It's just trying to keep your team as fresh as possible because you never know when it's going to end. That's what we have to do as coaches is just push them along because they are tired people; not only physically, but mentally with the pressure of it.

"But we also have to get the right people out at the right times. You have to look at who is struggling because it's just too much or who feels good about himself and is playing very well."

Ramsay, the Lightning assistant, was Philadelphia's coach during the 2000 playoffs, when the Flyers and Penguins played the third-longest game in NHL history: 92 minutes, 1 second of overtime. The Flyers won 2-1 to tie the East semifinal series at 2.

It lasted nearly seven hours.

"The scariest thing for me was walking into the locker room and seeing all those guys lying down with IVs in them," Ramsay said. "I didn't realize quite how many were running out on me. Some guys would sit on their legs to keep them bent. Some guys would stand up so they wouldn't get bent. They all found their own way to keep moving forward."

As a game stretches into the wee hours - the Flyers-Pens game ended at 2:37 a.m. - the locker room is eerily quiet between periods. Players have no energy for chit-chat, let alone speeches, as they try to rest and refresh.

"If you ever had a camera in the dressing room of teams that go into overtime, double overtime, it's pretty quiet," Taylor said. "Everyone is concentrating. It's the pressure. No one wants to say anything. They just want to get their rest and stay focused on what they have to do when they get out there for the next period."

Fluids are critical.

Food is a luxury.

"You've got people running around trying to find you a little bit of food," Sarich said. "On game day, you eat at noon or 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Then you maybe have a snack before the game. Now it's midnight to 1 o'clock in the morning and you're still playing."

Running out of fresh underclothes. Too tired to lift a water bottle. Skates feeling as though they are made of lead. Prepared to play all night if that's what it takes.

Shift after shift.

Period after period.

Hour after hour.

"You start to lose track," defenseman Dan Boyle said. "But you can play for nine, 10 periods if you have to. You don't want to rush something or take an unnecessary chance that could cost you the game.

"Time is on your side."

Today's lineup
Lightning