Even now, at 76, Ted Lindsay is not someone to be crossed.

"We didn't have 'policemen'," he grunts derisively, when asked the difference between his era and the new breed. "We didn't need 'em.

"We fought our own battles."

	Chelios finished the second round tops among defensemen in scoring.

And no one, ever, battled harder than this man. Ted Lindsay's face today betrays the passion, the apparenlty reckless disregard for life and limb that he brought with him like equipment to rinks for 17 NHL seasons; the kind of inner drive which made him indisputably one of the top two or three left wingers in the game's history. And one of the most feared. Even at shockingly modest 5-foot-8 and 163 pounds. He didn't get hung with the nickname Terrible Ted for tiptoeing around the periphery of trouble.

So if ever there was a man qualfied to comment on tough, on being a warrior, that man is Lindsay.

"And Chris Chelios," he says, "is a true warrior.

"He has to have the last word, the last punch, the last hit.

"As a teammate, you never have to watch your back when he's out there. He'll always be looking out for you. He hates to lose. HATES it. With him, it's personal. The way it should be with everyone.

"He is one tough guy."

Ted tough. Original Six tough.

At the age of 40, when most men are starting to mellow somewhat; are actually admitting to voluntarily sitting through the odd 'chick-flick' or becoming quite open about getting more in touch with their feelings, Chelios only seems to become more ornery, more rebellious, more obstinant, more full of anarchy. As these playoffs move along and the Red Wings continue on their single-minded quest for the Stanley Cup, his intensity rises accordingly. His 10 points leads all NHL defensemen in the postseason. He's a plus-8. He averages more than 26 minutes of ice time a game. He and partner Nicklas Lidstrom are regularly deployed against the opposition's top line. His mean streak hasn't shrunk one iota from when he first broke into the league.

While captain Steve Yzerman, Toronto's truculent winger Gary Roberts and Colorado's Peter Forsberg have drawn most of the early Conn Smythe Trophy buzz, those who know still peer over at Chelios and nod affirmatively.

And Lindsay, a season-ticket holder at The Joe, is one who knows.

This is a man who survived nearly two decades in an uncompromising six-team league, helped the Red Wings lasso four Stanley Cups, was named to nine All-Star teams and still found the time to log 1,808 penalty minutes. Oldtimers as a rule tend to defend their game, often referred to as hockey's Golden Era, with an almost maniacal fervor. While the players in their time may not have been as big, as strong or as plentiful as today, there was a consistent sense of sacrifice and desperation too often lacking in today's swollen, mega-money NHL.

Often, they're loathe to throw out compliments to this new, unfamiliar breed of pampered player.

"Chris Chelios," says Lindsay, though, "could've played in any era. He would've fit right in with our team in the late '40s and through the '50s. He's a throwback to another time; in a lot of ways a better time.

"You can find a lot of guys to fill a uniform. It's more difficult to find players to actually play in one.

"What bothers me about the game today is the carelessness in the defensive zone I see over and over and over. Guys just giving the puck away. I sit there and it drives me crazy! In my day, you gave the puck away without a pretty damn good reason you had a one-way ticket to the minors in your dressing stall the next morning and a fairly good chance of never being seen again.

"You watch Chelios. He rarely hands the puck away. He'd rather be run through the boards than give a team an easy chance because he bailed out or hurried his clearance.

"You know who he reminds me of? Vladimir Konstantinov. And that's about as high a compliment as I can play because in my opinion Konstantinov is one of the great defensemen, one of the great players, in Red Wings' history.

"Think back to when Detroit played against Philadelphia (in the 1997 Stanley Cup finals). (Eric) Lindros must've outweighed Konstantinov by 60 pounds. And Konstantinov continually knocked Lindros off the puck. It got so that Lindros started taking the long-way round, if you know what I mean.

"I listen to Don Cherry go on about Europeans and how they've got no guts and I laugh. Konstantinov had more guts than anyone.

"Chelios against (Todd) Bertuzzi in the first round, same thing as Konstantinov and Lindros. Same result, too."

There's plenty about this 2001-02 Red Wings' team that catches Lindsay's fancy. He's a huge Yzerman fan (not surprisingly); always has been. Brett Hull's instincts and developed attention to the defensive side of the game win his praise, too.

And then, of course, there's Chelios.

"You see, he has the hunger. A lot of guys in today's game play every third or fourth night. This guy plays EVERY night. And you want to know why? He loves the game. His family, his kids, and his game. That's his life.

"These things sound simple, automatic, right? They should be, but they're not.

"Lots of guys talk at being the best. This guy works at it."

What's so amazing about Chelios, the same intangible which could be said of Ray Bourque, is competitive longevity. He shows absolutely no signs of flagging, of tapering off, despite the raw, give-and-take way he plays night in and night out.

A battle with Chelios in front of the net would be quite a challenge to any player, any time. Even one as ferocious as Lindsay. Even at his age, Lindsay sounds as if he would've relished such a confrontation.

"It'd be a war," Terrible Ted assures you. "Neither one of us would want to give an inch. There'd be blood spilled, on both sides, I'm sure.

"But, you know, there'd be respect mixed in with the blood."

George Johnson of the Calgary Herald is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.