DETROIT — Once history shades the recollections of this seven-game series, the turning point for Pittsburgh's unlikely resurrection from the ashes of its own stupidity might be Evgeni Malkin's assault on Henrik Zetterberg in the closing moments of the Wings' Game 2 victory.

Neither player carried a reputation as a fighter, explaining why the NHL rescinded the mandatory one-game suspension for instigation which would've banned Malkin from Game 3.

It was the right call.

But the message was sent. Ever since that moment, Malkin proved himself the best player on either team in the final five games. The Penguins were faster, tougher and clearly more resilient than the Wings.

"We were frustrated after those first two games," said Malkin, "and we knew that we could play better than that. We had to show that we weren't going to give up even though they had a 2-0 lead on us."

Malkin led the resistance and his reward was a well-deserved Conn Smythe Award for a 36-point playoff and eight points in the championship series.

"This is a great feeling," he said, "especially because we had to win four of the last five games to do it and win on the road here against a great team."

But what's he doing with Chris Osgood's award?

Game 7 was supposedly a coronation, the crowning of the Wings as possibly the professional sports team of this decade with a third Stanley Cup and the emancipation of Osgood from the critics who've steadfastly hounded him through the years with a Most Valuable Player award.

But the Pens spoiled it.

The coming days will find Detroit in a constant state of complaint. Those who fervently believed in the inevitability of a downtown championship celebration will seek blame for the Stanley Cup inexplicably leaving town.

The more-stubborn conspiracy theorists will take to their graves the certainty in their minds that Pittsburgh's remarkable recovery from a 3-2 series deficit was a league-orchestrated operation to fulfill Sidney Crosby's championship destiny.

But there's one flaw in that theory.

You mean there was only one flaw?

Crosby didn't play the final 30 minutes Friday after injuring his knee.

That placed even more responsibility on Malkin, who led all Pittsburgh forwards with just under 20 minutes of ice time.

"Geno stepped up big time for us," said Crosby.

There's plenty of fault to go around following the Wings' collapse; losing four of five games is inexcusable for a defending champion.

"I'm not going to make excuses about what we didn't do or couldn't do," said a forlorn Osgood afterwards. "You have to give credit to Pittsburgh. They played two great games in (Game) 6 and tonight. I'm proud of the way we fought in this series."

You can't blame the goalie this time, Detroit.

Point an accusatory finger at Marian Hossa for his vanishing act against his former team or the utter lack of secondary scoring from normal contributors such as Mikael Samuelsson or Jiri Hudler.

The more-virulent Ozzie bashers have remained in hibernation during these playoffs. Had the Wings won Game 7, they might've been silenced forever because Osgood would've most certainly earned Conn Smythe Award honors along with a fourth Stanley Cup.

But they should keep their lips sealed in defeat.

The Penguins are the champions because Marc-Andre Fleury didn't just close the sizeable series gap in net between himself and Osgood, but he surpassed his adversary in the last two games.

The Wings couldn't rise to the pressure. The odds were certainly in their favor. The last time a road team won a Game 7 was another Pittsburgh team 30 years ago, when the "We Are Family" Pirates defeated the Baltimore Orioles in the World Series.

"This hurts because you're going to remember that you were up 3-2," said Brian Rafalski.

It'll sting because this city has already absorbed enough blows to the gut and most figured Detroit was due a celebration. It'll haunt the Wings all summer because this series will be remembered as an opportunity lost. But there's always the hope for redemption next year.

Malkin can attest to that.

He was the disappearing player on the back of the milk carton last year.