Igor Shesterkin just did what 93 Rangers goalies before him never managed in a century of blue sweaters. He put the puck in the net himself.
Home opener at the Garden. Lightning down three with Vasilevskiy pulled. The dump-in bounces off the boards near the crease, and Shesterkin collects it, drops to a knee, and fires the length of the ice into the empty cage at 17:26 of the third. Unassisted. No last-touch gift. A real shot, from his stick, into history. Rangers 5, Lightning 1. First star of the night, and the first goalie goal in franchise history.
That is the kind of soap-opera beat I live for. A franchise older than most of its fans finally gets the moment it never knew it was missing, and the guy who delivers it is the same Russian wall who already owns the building.
A Hundred Years, Then One Knee Drop
The Rangers entered the NHL in 1926-27. Ninety-three different goalies suited up before Shesterkin. Zero goals. Not Lundqvist. Not Richter. Not Giacomin. Nobody. Then Shesterkin, age 30, launches one at the peak of the arc and Mike Sullivan admits he knew it had a chance “probably when it was at the peak.” Of course he did. “Obviously, one of his strengths is his ability to handle the puck,” Sullivan said. The coach sounded less surprised than relieved the puck finally cooperated.
Mika Zibanejad had been living this subplot from the bench for years. “I feel like probably a dozen times I’ve been on the bench thinking, ‘OK, this one goes in,’ and he barely misses.” A dozen near-misses. That is not luck. That is a goalie who treats every empty-net look like a personal challenge, and teammates who have learned to hold their breath when he winds up.
The NHL ledger now reads 18 different goalies with a goal, 21 total goalie goals, 19 in the regular season. Shesterkin is the 12th to actually shoot one in rather than get credited for a last touch. His good friend Ilya Sorokin got the last one on March 1, 2025, the soft way, last man to touch before Nashville put it in their own net. Shesterkin had already decided that one did not fully count. After his own goal he settled the argument clean: “This one counts.”
He is right. It counts twice. Once for the league book. Once for every Rangers fan who spent decades watching elite goaltending without ever seeing the mask score.
The Celebration He Almost Missed
The funniest part is he almost whiffed the party. “I didn’t see the puck land so I didn’t know can I celebrate or not,” Shesterkin said. “Everyone started jumping on me. Unbelievable feelings.” A screen on the blue line blocked his view. He only started celebrating when the bench exploded. The planned celebration he had been rehearsing in his head for years got scrapped because he could not confirm the puck crossed. “I was just a little bit shy and didn’t know what I can do. Maybe next time. I will keep trying to score one more time.”
Of course he will. The man already scored as a 19-year-old in the MHL. He has been hunting this moment since he got here. And when someone asked if the goal was now his career highlight, he went straight to the March 31 scrap with Jacob Markstrom at the Garden: “I don’t know, I like to watch my fight.” Then the punch line: “Yeah, at least nobody is punching my face.”
That is the entire Shesterkin brand in two sentences. Compete like a maniac, score when the net is empty, and still rank the goal above the fight only because his face stayed intact. Pavel Dorofeyev, who scored his first as a Ranger in the same game, already sees the new rivalry. “He’s not just a great goalie, he’s a great goal-scorer right now. I have a serious competitor right now, so got to keep an eye on him.”
The win itself mattered. First of the season after the Boston opener loss. Twenty-four saves on 25 shots. Perfect penalty kill against one of the league’s better power plays. And Shesterkin’s 100th win at MSG in 177 games, fourth-fastest Rangers goalie to that mark behind only Richter, Giacomin, and Lundqvist. He is writing himself into the building’s permanent record one night at a time.
Sullivan nailed the locker-room effect. “When those moments occur for a team, they are great moments. You can see the raw emotion on the players. ‘Shesty,’ he’s such a great goalie. He makes so many timely saves for us. When he has a moment like that, I think the guys, they get pretty fired up about it.” Fired up is the correct phrase. A goalie goal is pure rocket fuel. It turns a solid home opener into a memory the room will reference in February when the schedule gets ugly.
I keep a private ledger of hockey moments that feel bigger than the box score. This one sits near the top. Not because empty-net goals decide standings. Because a franchise that has seen everything finally saw something new, and the guy who delivered it is the same one carrying the crease every night. Shesterkin already had the Vezina pedigree and the Garden love. Now he has the goal no Rangers goalie ever owned. He will chase another one. The bench will hold its breath every time. And the next time the puck finds his stick with the net empty, nobody in that building will need to ask whether it counts.
