LEWISTON – Clem Jodoin peered through the shields at his Lewiston Maineiacs’ forlorn faces, many of them too chronologically challenged to leave whiskers in the hotel sink on the last trip north of the border, and saw that look.

You know, the look a child gets at the amusement park when he encounters the coolest ride in the universe and realizes that the pinball machine just ate his last quarter. Or the look you get when there’s too much time between paydays.

For 20 minutes, then 40, the Maineiacs couldn’t buy a goal Wednesday night. So Jodoin essentially scalped one.

“We made a bet of it: Who’s going to get the next goal? It went up to $300 for the game-winner,” Jodoin said, flailing his arms as he simulated what it was like to play auctioneer. Fifty, gimme fifty. Who wants to make it sixty? She’d look mighty nice on the mantle for seventy, seventy …

“The players started pushing (the bid) up there themselves,” said Jodoin. “It was nice to see us pushing hard together. We started pulling in the same direction.”

Leading the tug-o’-war was Sheldon Wenzel, less than two months shy of his 21st birthday and participating in his final Quebec Major Junior Hockey League playoffs.

Wenzel fattened his meal money for the week, rifling home the game-winning goal off a rebound at 1:55 of overtime to lift Lewiston to a 3-2 victory over the Shawinigan Cataractes and a sweep of the best-of-seven series.

And no, there weren’t Vegas odds or a Jodoin line on that last accomplishment.

“I would have bet $300 on winning the game,” Jodoin chirped, “but I don’t think I would have bet $300 on a sweep. But let’s take it. Let’s enjoy it.”

How’d it happen?

For starters, the coach who relied so heavily on those fair-skinned teenagers when his training room unraveled into a MASH unit in February and March turned to Wenzel (labeled affectionately by Jodoin as “my grandfather”), Bobby Gates, Ryan Murphy, Jonathan Paiement, Alexandre Picard and challenged the relative graybeards to carry the Maineiacs to the quarterfinals.

In the case of Wenzel (line through three games: no goals, one assist, 14 penalty minutes), that meant resisting the temptation to flatten every Cataracte who violated his personal space.

And there were many. Shawinigan’s strategy, a sound one at that, was to create twice the annoyance of the Happy Trumpeteer who honked and heckled his way through the evening on behalf of the Maineiacs.

“I’m the kind of player who they try to fight all the time. I guess I’m known for my fighting,” said Wenzel, the remnants of a four-inch scar on his forehead accentuating the tale. “If you want to win in the playoffs, you can’t fight all the time.”

Hey, there’s another bet Jodoin would have lost.

“We just swept a four-game series without one fight,” the coach observed. “It’s time to prove we can play winning hockey without fighting. Discipline will bring you everywhere at this point.”

Wenzel got the message. So did every other Maineiac born in 1984 or 1985.

Before the series, Jodoin assigned each of them two younger teammates. Show them the ropes. Don’t let them lose their composure.

Oh, and if you’re Sheldon Wenzel, lighten their wallets.

“This is my last year,” said Wenzel. “It’s pretty special to get the goal that makes our season continue.”

Kalle Oakes is a staff writer. His e-mail is [email protected].