Some 180 feet of ice lay between Ty Conklin and Ryan Malone's violent, net-crashing, winning goal against the Florida Panthers the other night, and with what seemed like maybe 180 limbs and other assorted body parts obstructing his view of it anyway, Conklin couldn't quite see it, but he could feel that goal, up and down his spine.

From the very top of the old building, in one of the utilitarian catacombs along press row, Eddie Johnston could feel that goal, too. It might be closing in on half a century since E.J. last stood in a goal crease with a train bearing down on him, but you never forget the full dimensions of what has to be overcome in that situation.

You never forget, well, yeah, the fear.

"I learned it a long time ago," E.J. was remembering yesterday as the Penguins finished practice for the game tonight at Montreal. "When I was in Montreal [in the Quebec Junior Hockey League], guys would play for dollars after practice, and sometimes The Rocket would come by. With The Rocket [legendary Canadiens scorer Maurice Richard], you knew what he was going to do. He was coming right for you. He'd put the puck at your feet, knock you backward, jam it in.

"All you can do is try to stand your ground. You're just trying to stop the puck, but that's a lot to think about."

In this Penguins winter of still-swelling promise, there have been 177 Pittsburgh goals, many of them of high elegance, others merely spectacular owing to the availability of unique talents like Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin. But Malone's cage-blitzing cadenza against Florida's Tomas Vokoun as the clock blinked inside 25 seconds to play Tuesday night was my favorite goal of the year, and I'd say that even if he'd scored it with the club behind 7-0.

That the score was 2-2, that Malone himself had tied it with a deflection, and that the Penguins had been outplayed and scoreless for most of the game's first 45 minutes are all adornments on the basic inspiration. Malone took a pass outside the Florida blue line, turned inside Kamil Kreps, flew through the right circle, and reached a kind of unconscious point of no return.

He put the puck on his backhand, wound around Panthers defenseman Branislav Mezei, and what happened next was the hockey equivalent of TV news footage of a car crashing into a bank lobby. Mezei went sprawling. Florida's Bryan Allen, converging from the opposite side of the slot, knocked Malone on his butt. Vokoun, trying to stand his ground, succeeded at only that. The puck was in the net.

"I thought he ran the goalie," said Panthers coach Jacques Martin. "The puck wasn't in the net [yet]. My interpretation was when he hit Vokoun was when the puck went in the net."

The goal was reviewed at the league's video command center in Toronto and, of course, approved.

"I saw the replays," Penguins goalie Ty Conklin said yesterday. "I know [Vokoun's] just thinking, 'try and stop the puck and get us to overtime,' but when a guy's bearing down on you like that, it's tough. You're afraid someone will fall on you. It makes it harder, that's for sure."

It's not like Malone isn't capable of this kind of no-frills old-time power hockey move.

"Actually in the first period I had an opportunity where I should have done the same thing," Malone said yesterday. "I asked Yeo-sy [assistant coach Mike Yeo] if I should have done that. He said, 'yeah.' You know I did a lot of that my rookie year and I don't know why I got away from it. I guess when we were losing more I felt like I had to do more a little more myself, take more chances."

I asked E.J. of whom Malone's 19th reminded him.

"Clark Gillies," he said, identifying the New York Islanders' legend.

How about Kevin Stevens?

"That's probably the best comparison," Johnston said. "Malone's been playing great, and he'll take it to the net, but that goal, now that's a power forward."

Malone's got 11 points in the past nine games for this team, which is one of those periodic reminders we get over his still immense potential. At 6 feet 4 and 224, he's probably 10 pounds lighter than Stevens in his prime, and he's probably 15 pounds heavier than Gillies, but the nature of the winning goal Tuesday night is as much an attitude as a mass-times-acceleration effect.

There are still certain times in certain hockey games, 22.4 seconds left in a 2-2 tie, for example, when players like Stevens and Malone must decide the puck on their stick is going across the goal line regardless of the physical consequences to them and anyone in their way, most particularly the masked man.

It's better than elegant. It's hockey.