I was privileged to have the opportunity to speak with NHL Hall-of-Famer Dickie Moore on October 28, 2010, from his offices at Dickie Moore Rentals in Montreal.
What an engaging, fascinating discussion it was. We chatted for more than an hour, and we covered a wide range of topics—memories from his junior hockey days, his early years with the Montreal Canadiens and some cherished teammates such as Butch Bouchard, Rocket Richard, Bert Olmstead and Doug Harvey and coach Toe Blake.
We talked of course about his comeback with the Maple Leafs in the mid 60s, and his final NHL season with the St. Louis Blues in 1968.
During the interview, I mistakenly refer to the Montreal "Production Line", which of course was actually Abel, Lindsay and Howe in Detroit. The Lach-Blake-Richard trio was the "Punch Line". But most importantly, it's a great discussion and Moore shares some stories you may not have heard before. I hope you enjoy our conversation.
Welcome to Vintage Leaf Memories
This site has been developed with the “old days” as its primary focus and memories of the Toronto Maple Leafs in particular.I was born in 1953, so the time period I most want to focus on is from the mid- 1950’s to the early 80’s. Anything later than that is not “vintage”, in my mind.
In the initial stages this will be a site that largely brings together my recollections of being a Maple Leaf fan in the late 50’s and early 1960’s and on into the 1970’s....
1962 Leaf Calendar
In the fall of 1962, when I had just turned 9, I sent for and received the Leafs annual calendar. The 1962-’63 edition remains my favorite as it features a picture of the 1961-’62 Cup winning team on the front.
I recently had a wonderful conversation with long-time Montreal great Dickie Moore.
Now 78, and still a highly successful businessman (owner of Dickie Moore Rentals since the early 1960s), he was generous enough to respond to a request I made to speak with him
In our initial conversation he shared memories from his time with the Montreal Canadiens in the 1950s and early ‘60s, and his brief comeback with the Leafs during the 1964-’65 NHL season. (We arranged a time to do a more ‘formal’ audio interview – which we have now completed – which I will place on this site shortly. The photo included with this story was taken after Game 4 of the 1963 semi-final series against Toronto. Montreal won that night, but the Leafs won the series in 5 games. That 1962-’63 season was the last that Moore spent with the Canadiens.)
Moore was an outstanding all-around player-tough, fiery and an offensive threat. He led the NHL in scoring twice, once with 96 points- when numbers like that meant something in the old 70 games a season, 6-team NHL.
He recounted how Emile “Butch” Bouchard was an outstanding team leader and personal mentor to him and other young players. He mentioned how, when former teammate Toe Blake took over from Dick Irvin Sr. as coach, he went into the room and told the assembled players, “I can’t coach you guys. You’re too good”, then walked out. Blake proceeded to simply let them play.
And play they did, winning 5 Cups in a row, successful in part because they were not micro-managed and over-coached, as most NHL clubs are today.
He remembered Bert Olmstead as exactly how I’ve often heard Olmstead described: a great player, someone Dickie respected a great deal, but someone who was hard on his teammates and not necessarily loved by everyone because of his relentless drive and will to win- whatever it took to win. (That was an attitude that, by all accounts, Olmstead took to the Leafs when he joined Punch Imlach in the late 1950s, and also to his short-lived time as coach of the expansion Oakland Seals in 1967-’68.)
Moore also thought the world of long-time teammate Doug Harvey, and believed it a terrible shame that Harvey was traded by Montreal after the 1960-’61 season to the New York Rangers.
Dickie shared the story of how Irvin once asked the players how much a hockey puck weighed. No one knew, but Harvey said, “twenty pounds.” Irvin responded, “20 pounds?...” Harvey said, “You try moving that puck with two guys on your back…”
Dickie spoke warmly of his brief time with the Leafs. Before agreeing to a comeback, he said he checked out Imlach and the organization by speaking with former teammates like Olmstead, who never got along with Imlach but nonetheless respected Punch and spoke very highly of him. Dickie also spoke with Jean Beliveau, who had played for Imlach with the Quebec Aces in the very early 1950’s.
Moore came from a large family- 9 boys and one girl, and typical of that generation, devoted and hard-working parents.
He learned a lot from Bouchard about preparing for life after hockey. He told me he always had the ambition of owning his own business, and he has been very successful. He called me from his office, still at work at the age of 78.
One thing he shared in our conversation was simple but revealing: he said that the key to coaching was treating players the way you would wish to be treated. Blake did that with him, and all the Canadiens, and that led to great success for players- and the team. That, Moore said, is how he has operated his business.
As a then young Maple Leaf fan, I remember Moore playing with Toronto during the 1964-’65 season with Toronto.
An industrial accident around the time he left the Canadiens caused a major knee problem, and he could not have played in 1963-‘64 in any event. But, he was claimed in the intra-league draft before the 1964-’65 season and Leaf GM and Coach Punch Imlach convinced Moore to make a comeback with Toronto.
Toronto had just won 3 Cups in a row, but Imlach always recognized the value of veteran leadership and gave Moore a chance to play with the Leafs.
Moore was healthy enough to play about half the regular season games that year, totaling 6 points. He added a goal and an assist in 5 playoff games, as the Leafs fell to his old team, Montreal, in a 6-game semi-final series that ended the Leaf dominance of the early 60s.
I don’t frankly remember a lot about Moore’s play with the Leafs that season, but not long ago I watched one of the playoff games from that season on Leafs TV. Moore was clearly still a hard-driving player, giving everything he had against his old team.
Moore retired after that ’65 season, but was again talked out of retirement, this time by St. Louis coach Scotty Bowman, during the 1967-’68 season- the first year of NHL expansion.
Bowman was building a veteran squad with Glenn Hall in goal and a number of former Montreal players (Bowman had been raised in the Montreal system as a player and coach) including Ab McDonald, Doug Harvey and Jimmy Roberts.
Moore played less than 30 regular-season games, but was a standout in the playoffs, as the Blues raced through the Western Conference playoffs all the way to the finals where Moore again faced his old Montreal club.
During that playoff season, Moore accumulated 14 points in 18 games in helping the Blues make it to the finals.
Moore retired again after that season, for good. He finished his career with more than 600 points in just over 700 regular season games, and added another 110 points in only 135 playoff games.
He was the kind of determined, gritty, talented player that would have been a great fit with the Leafs- if only we had him a bit sooner.
What a privilege it was to speak with one of the true legends of the game. Someone who is one of the first names I think of, when I think back to what was, for me, the golden age of hockey.
But I want to bring up a name that was a factor in the first championship of my childhood- Don Simmons.
Simmons may be best known as the guy who was in the net for the Leafs when they were hammered 11-0 by the “lowly” Boston Bruins during the 1963-’64 season. What’s often forgotten is that Simmons was in net the very next night and he shut out the powerful Chicago Black Hawks 2-0. (The irony is that Leaf Coach, Punch Imlach, had planned to send Simmons to the minors after the Boston game, but he stayed around because the call-up goalie couldn’t make it to Chicago in time.)
But my strongest – and fondest- memory of Simmons is that he was the guy who was in goal at the jam-packed Chicago Stadium the night the Leafs won the Cup in April, 1962. Johnny Bower had been injured earlier in the series (I think he pulled a hamstring stretching to stop a Bobby Hull shot) and Simmons stepped in and performed admirably.
Imagine a team now winning the Cup with their “back-up” goalie. Simmons was a fine netminder, unusual for the time in that he was left-handed, meaning he caught with his right hand and held his goalie stick with his left hand. (As there are more "righties" than "lefties", most goalies, to this day, catch the puck with their left hand.)
Simmons was outstanding in the deciding Game 6 in Chicago that spring night, allowing only a third-period goal to Hull, a goal that gave the gave the Hawks a 1-0 lead.
There was such a long delay after Hull scored, with fans throwing stuff all over the ice, the Leafs were able to re-focus and get back to business. Chicago did not maintain the momentum after the delay and Toronto stormed back with goals by Bob Nevin and Dick Duff. Toronto won their first Cup since 1951. (In the photo we’ve included with this story, Simmons is the Leaf player on the far left of the picture.)
Bower gets the credit, and deservedly so. But Simmons, to me, was a hero because without him, the Leafs may well not have won the Cup in 1962.
Like many other youngsters across the country at the time, it was my first Cup as a Leaf fan, one that’s easy to remember fondly to this day.
In hockey circles, a single slap shot a few years later changed the course of the modern game, particularly for goaltenders.
Back in 1976, I was a young guy working his way into the world of broadcasting. I had no “experience” and unlike some, did not have a degree in journalism from a respected college such as Fanshawe or Ryerson. I had to prove myself even more.
The only advantage I had was that I was willing to work for nothing. My first radio job paid exactly that, as did my first “television” gig.
Now, I should be clear that by television I am referring to local cable television. Back in the mid-70s, they would give airtime to almost anyone with an idea and promises of local content. I approached the people at the then Mississauga Cable television with the idea for a sports interview show. After some discussion the show was born.
I worked with other young people looking for experience in the technical areas (lighting, make-up, camera stuff) all hoping to turn the experience into paying jobs in ‘the business’. Some older, local folks were involved on the production side for the pure enjoyment of the work.
I co-hosted the show with my friend Paul Harris, who went on to be an educator for many years in the Toronto and Peel (Mississauga, Ontario) school boards.
Back then, as now, Paul enjoyed sports, but mostly he was giving his time to help me build what I hoped would be a career.
We interviewed a range of celebrities over the course of several months. The only catch was there had to be some connection to Mississauga, to provide a local angle.
One of my favorite recollections is our interview with Andy Bathgate, an ex-Leaf who scored the Cup-winning goal in Game 7 of the finals for Toronto in 1964 (a story for another day). Bathgate owned a golf driving range in Mississauga, so that counted, at least in my mind, as local content.
Bathgate had been retired for a few years, but in his earlier life had been a legitimate star in the National Hockey League, particularly with the Rangers in the late 1950s and early 1960s. He had one of the hardest shots in hockey, and along with “Boom Boom” Geoffrion and Bobby Hull, was probably the most feared of players who utilized the new trend back then, the “slap shot”.
Bathgate was so good that he was, at least once, as I recall, voted in ahead of Gordie Howe as the league’s all-star (end-of-season, when it mattered) right winger. He also, I believe, led the league in scoring one season.
Well, on this night in 1976, as we chatted with Andy, he shared some wonderful stories and comments. I was amazed that he still worked on his shot, he said, years into his retirement. (Bathgate was known for being able to put the puck where he wanted to, which will mean even more as you read on.)
I asked him, for example, about the 1966 Stanley Cup finals, when his Red Wings (he had been traded from Toronto the summer prior for Marcel Pronovost and others) had won the first two games of the series against the Canadiens, right in Montreal. Wings coach Sid Abel took the team to Toledo for a few days of rest (and to bet on the ponies, it was reported at the time) as the League had scheduled four days off between the Tuesday night game in Montreal and the U.S. national broadcast game on Sunday afternoon in Detroit.
Detroit went on to lose four straight after spending that time in Toledo. When I asked Bathgate what happened during the team’s four-day break, he said, “I think people go to Toledo to die…”. His comment broke me up. Whatever the reason, the Wings lost their momentum during their fun “break”, and Montreal came back to win the series in six games.
However, the most astonishing thing in the discussion was this nugget, which I had never heard before, which Andy said at the time he had never told anyone. (He has since, I know, repeated the story - recently to NHL.com and perhaps others.)
We’ve all heard about the night back in the fall 1959 when Montreal’s All-Star goalie Jacques Plante was hit in the face by a shot from Bathgate at New York’s Madison Square Garden. That he left the ice a bloody mess. That he went to the trainers’ room, was stitched up, and told the Montreal trainer that he was not going back out to play unless he wore the protective face mask he had been wearing in practice.
His Coach, Hall-of-Famer Toe Blake, had steadfastly refused to allow Plante to wear his mask in games. It simply wasn’t done in those days. He felt Plante couldn’t see well enough while wearing the mask. Blake finally relented that night, after initially protesting vehemently. In addition, Plante wore the mask for the rest of his career, which continued into the mid-1970s in the old World Hockey Association.
Well, here’s the twist in the story. As Andy told the story of that night in 1959, he recalled that it always bugged him that Plante, who was considered the first of the “roving” goalies, would constantly come out of the net to stop the puck behind his net to set it up for his defenseman.
But what really disturbed Bathgate was that, as Bathgate would skate in behind the net to try to retrieve the puck, Plante would stick his butt out and give Bathgate a hip check to throw him off-balance.
So Bathgate decided that, some day, he would extract his revenge.
The night he did so, in turns out, was that famous night back in 1959.
As the story goes, as Bathgate crossed the Montreal blue line in full flight, he aimed his patented slap shot – at Plante’s face.
And he connected.
The rest is hockey history.
I remember laughing out loud when Bathgate told the story. But unless he was pulling our leg, and it was not the kind of situation where he would, he had just revealed quite a story. The story about the night he exacted revenge on the world’s finest goalie.
You couldn’t admit that kind of thing today without being suspended. Perhaps that’s why Andy did not share that story publicly for almost 30 years, and after both he and Plante had retired.
However, while intentionally inflicting that kind of pain on a fellow player may seem cruel, Plante was fine although banged up, and the incident enabled him to play the rest of his career with the mask. He likely would have retired much sooner otherwise.
And as years went by, the face mask became standard protection for every goalie around the hockey world.
It was great story from a great player, told to a young, aspiring reporter on a small local cable TV station.
One name modern-day Leaf fans probably won’t know is that of Brian Spencer.He had a short career in Toronto, but he was the kind of rugged player the Leafs have had too few of for most of the last 40 years.
Spencer was a left-winger, as I recall. We all use the term ‘buzz-saw’ to describe a certain kind of player. John Tonelli with the Islanders was like that in the late 70s and 80s. Terry O’Reilly was that kind of player with the Bruins, too. (I’m trying to think who is like Spencer in today’s NHL- it’s difficult to draw a comparison because everyone plays a more rigid “system” nowadays.)
However, Spencer was one of the first of that type of player I remember as a Leaf in the post-'67 era, someone who was always skating hard, who would drive right through guys when he checked, and used every bit of passion that he had to play the game.
He was not naturally skilled, and he could not have made it as what nowadays coaches call a “top 6” offensive line forward. That said, he skated hard and could forecheck and disrupt the other team.
He was a fighter too, though he was not even 6 feet tall and weighed maybe 185 pounds.
Spencer played a few games for the Leafs in the 1969-’70 season, but made his mark when he was called up during the following season. That was a year of a significant Leaf resurgence, when they built a team around veteran centers Dave Keon and Norm Ullman, and brought back Bobby Baun on defense. Jacques Plante was in goal, playing in his 40s, and fellow future Hall-of-Famer Bernie Parent was acquired from Philadelphia in the Mike Walton deal to provide outstanding net support.
They had a very young defense corps: Rick Ley, Jim McKenney, Mike Pelyk, Jim Dorey, Brian Glennie and Brad Selwood all played roles for the club.
Up front, they brought up Darryl Sittler as a 20-year-old rookie from Junior hockey (their #1 draft choice). They had already traded for Jim Harrison, a rugged center who loved to finish his checks, as Howie Meeker used to say.
But the guy who really flew around the ice and caused a stir was Spencer.
His story was rather tragic, right to the end of his life. When Spencer was called up to play his first game in that 1970-’71 season, his Dad, back in British Columbia, was planning to watch his son on Hockey Night in Canada. For reasons I cannot recall now, the local CBC affiliate did not air the Leaf game that night. Spencer’s father was reportedly upset, and drove down to the station. I obviously don’t know the details, but in some kind of ensuing situation, the father was shot and killed on the very night Spencer scored what I believe was his first NHL goal.
In any event, it had to be a horrible thing for the young man, but he somehow persevered and had a wonderful rookie season, accumulating 25 points in 50 regular-season games.
I well recall a great magazine piece written by now veteran writer Earl McRae about “Spinner” Spencer, entitled, “So Sweetly Knuckled in Humble Resolve”.
It was a perfect title for the youngster who seemingly, from a fans’ perspective, simply loved being in the NHL.
Unfortunately, the Leafs lost patience when Spencer suffered a knee injury the following season. He was left unprotected and was claimed on waivers by the expansion New York Islanders.
Interestingly, I remember listening to the French-language radio broadcast of a game that season between the Canadiens and the Islanders. The Isles were a horrible team back then, but the announcers made a point of commenting that Spencer was the best player on the ice that night.
Spencer went on to further rebuild his career, and had some outstanding seasons with the Buffalo Sabres, when they were really good in the mid-later 1970s. In fact, he played 16 playoff games in the spring of 1975, the year the Sabres took the tough Philadelphia Flyers of Bobby Clarke and Bernie Parent to 6 games in the Stanley Cup finals.
With the Sabres, Spencer was at his agitating, forechecking best. He was really appreciated by team management and the fans. I remember thinking often how I wished the Leafs had waited on Spencer, because he was exactly the kind of disruptive (in a good way) player they often seemed to lack. He was more than a fighter.
He retired in the late 70’s, and by various accounts led a somewhat difficult final few years of his life. He evidently lived in Florida and was friends with former Leaf captain Dave Keon, but his death was shrouded in mystery.
It’s too easy, sometimes, to say that a person had a “tragic” life but Spencer clearly experienced his share of heartache.
I do know this: he was a Maple Leaf I remember very, very well. They sure could use him today.
My own appreciation for the Rocket goes back even further than that. I was born into it.
As I’ve alluded to in earlier articles, for the men in my family, love of and for the Montreal Canadiens was just behind love of Church and faith, and tied for second with love of family.
My Dad was born in 1910. As a young man he had made a trek to New York City to watch his favorite baseball team, the Yankees, in action. He saw all-time greats Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig first-hand, and also had the opportunity to watch them live several times closer to his home at old Navin Field, later re-named Briggs Stadium, in Detroit.
But as much as he loved the Yankees, his real passion was the Canadiens, and especially “Rocket” Richard.
My two older brothers, especially my eldest brother, were also fans of the Habs. In perhaps my only outward form of rebellion, I decided at the age of 4 to cheer not for Montreal, but for the Toronto Maple Leafs. (See my earlier post How I Became a Leaf fan.)
With the Rocket (and later, his younger brother Henri) helping the Canadiens win many Stanley Cups in the 40s and 50s, the Canadiens were important in Quebec and French-Canadian society. Their successes on the ice somehow created a sense of pride within those who cared for the team.
Though not a Montreal fan, with all this in my blood, it was an honor for me the first time I had an opportunity to interview the Rocket. I never actually met him in person, but in 1978, I was newly married and living for a brief time in Montreal. I was working primarily as a newscaster for a then fledgling local radio station, flag shipped in Ottawa but with a local affiliate in Montreal.
I had negotiated my way into hosting a once-a-week sport talk show on Sunday evenings, and I wanted to land the Rocket as a guest. Now, I was all of 25 years old at the time, but wasn’t afraid to pick up the phone. I contacted the office of the Canadiens, to see how I could make a contact with Richard. He wasn’t associated with the club at the time, but I was hoping they could at least help me contact him. They passed me along to a man who was Richard’s business agent, who in turn gave me Richard’s number.
The Rocket wasn’t home when I called, but I left a message and he was kind enough to return my call.
By way of background, my family was southern Ontario francophone, not Quebecois, and my French-language skills had eroded significantly by the late 70s. Of course, because my last name is French the Rocket naturally spoke in French when he called me back, referring to me as “Michel” (the many nuns who taught me in my French-speaking elementary school would have been pleased) instead of Michael.
I stumbled around trying to sound comfortable in French, and said to him, in somewhat broken French, “Merci pour retourner mon appel…J’ai parlez avec votre mere”… which roughly translated (I realized too late) is “Thanks for returning my call…I had spoken earlier with your mother…”
Now, understand, the Rocket would have been in his late 50’s by then. I had no doubt spoken with his wife, not his mother- who may well have been long dead by then.
Was I somehow picturing the Rocket as some 60 year-old guy still living with his mother? I mean, I had seen photos of him from his playing days, with his own children. So I’m not sure what I was thinking, but let’s blame it on my discomfort with the language.
In any event, the Rocket was too gracious to correct me. He readily agreed to be interviewed over the phone the following Sunday evening, and we had a great conversation.
He did me the favor of also appearing by telephone on a program I hosted at a different station a year or so later, where again he was gracious in recalling various events from his playing days. (Click on the audio link if you’d like to hear my last interview with him.)
When Richard died a few years ago, the province of Quebec virtually stopped - and mourned. Someone of importance, someone who mattered deeply to many people in Quebec and beyond, had died.
I was too young to see him play in person. I only saw him a little bit on television. He retired when I was turning 7. But by all accounts he was the finest goal scorer and the best player under pressure the game has ever seen.
Opposing players often spoke of his passion, and of how his eyes would light up when he had the puck and was fighting his way to the net.
In Quebec, and for that matter across Canada, there was and will only ever be one “Rocket”. Everyone knows who you’re talking about when you say that name.
To speak with him (and his wife…or mother…) was a privilege, especially given my family history.
Whereas many young boys leave their love of sports behind as they wind their way to college and other more mature pursuits, I never lost my interest in the Leafs.
After the 1967 Cup win, when I was thirteen, the next three seasons saw the Leafs stumble badly. They made the playoffs only one of those years, and that one year were swept by the Bruins.
But something happened early in the 1970-’71 season, which turned out to be one of my favorite seasons following the Leafs as a young adult. After a slow start, the Leafs, sporting a new uniform look, beat Montreal in Toronto in early December and started playing solid hockey. Former Hab Jacques Plante had joined the Leafs, and provided steady net minding that first season in Toronto.
Norm Ullman had his best season since joining the Leafs on a line with Paul Henderson and Ron Ellis. And Dave Keon had his finest offensive season ever, centering two wingers who did not have a lot of NHL experience- Gary Monahan and Billy MacMillan. Macmillan provided toughness, Monaghan could fly, and Keon finished the season with 76 points- way behind Phil Esposito, though, who scored 76 goals that year. Nonetheless, Keon’s tremendous all-around play earned him selection to the Second All-Star team at the end of the 70-’71 season.
The Leafs had a very young defense, with Jim Dorey, Rick Ley, Mike Pelyk, Jim McKenny and Brian Glennie. Fortunately, Bobby Baun re-joined the Leafs part-way through that season and provided a veteran presence at the back end. (Rookie Brad Selwood was around but I don’t think he played in the playoffs.)
Importantly, Bernie Parent was acquired mid-season, to give the Leafs solid depth in goal.
The Leafs finished the season in fourth place, and drew the Rangers in the first round of the playoffs. The Rangers were loaded, with Eddie Giacomin and Gilles Villemuere in goal, Jim Neilson, Rod Seiling, Arnie Brown and Dale Rolfe on defense along with budding superstar Brad Park and former Leaf star Tim Horton.
Up front they were also deep, with Jean Ratelle, Walt Tkachuk and Pete Stemkowski providing strength up the middle.
The Leafs had a 4-2 lead in Game 1 in New York and were playing really well. However, the Rangers scored late in the second period on a fluky goal off the stick of Bobby Baun and then scored twice in the last period to win Game 1 in come-from-behind fashion.
The Leafs switched to Parent in Game 2; he was steady, and the Leafs beat the Rangers in a fight-filled game that saw Vic Hadfield throw Parent’s face mask up into the stands during one of the brawls.
That was the first playoff game win for Toronto since Game 6 of the 1967 Cup finals. I hoped the Leafs were on their way.
Game 3 in Toronto may have been the best game Toronto had played from beginning to end since that ’67 Cup final. The Leafs led 2-1 going into the third period after Paul Henderson scored a beautiful goal. Then, in the third period, Billy MacMillan set up Monahan for a tip in as Monahan was flying down his wing to clinch the victory.
The Leafs were on a roll, having played 3 strong playoff games in a row.
Now, there was one problem. Game 3 was on a Saturday night. Game 4, for reasons I don’t understand to this day, was the very next night in Toronto. That season the League scheduled 4 games in 5 nights in the first round of the playoffs.
The scheduling was a big enough issue in my mind, because I sensed the Leafs might not be ready after their strong performance in Game 3. However, just as game 4 was about to start, my friend Bill pulled into my family’s driveway unexpectedly. Bill didn’t have a passion for hockey, and was just dropping by to kill time. We were both in grade 12 and had been buddies since our first year of high school. But I liked watching important games by myself, and this didn’t feel right. Not for the biggest game of the year.
Then, when the game started, I could see the Leafs felt off, too.
I don’t know why, but they were flat, really flat. It may have been that they were playing their 4th game in 5 nights. They may have relaxed with a 2-1 lead in the series. I think part of it was that they really needed a day between games to take in their success (albeit modest), and then forget about Game 3 and get ready for Game 4. The quick turnaround didn’t allow for that.
I also know that Ranger GM and Coach Emile Francis told his big centers- Ratelle, Tkachuk and Stemkowski- to start leaning on Keon and Ullman and to use their size to advantage.
Whatever combination of the above, the Leafs gave the series away that night. They feel behind 4-0 by the second period, and while they fought back in the third period with then rookie Darryl Sittler scoring twice, they fell 4-2.
Toronto proceeded to lose the series in 6 games, with former Leafs Horton, Ron Stewart and especially Bob Nevin playing a role in ending the Leafs’ season. (Nevin scored the overtime winner in Game 6 in Toronto, after Jim McKenny scored late in the third period to send the game into overtime.)
What had been a surprisingly strong season, and a stunningly successful beginning to the playoffs, came to a sudden halt.
How a team could play so well for 3 games under immense pressure, then come out so flat in Game 4, is one of those mysteries about sports that is impossible to understand.
Stuff happens. But that was a series—and a season—that should have lasted longer.
When the Leafs had the opportunity to select three players in the first round of the summer 1973 NHL draft, those of us who followed and cared about such things knew they needed to make the right choices.
The team had lost some emerging young talent – Rick Ley, Brad Selwood and Bernie Parent, among others - to the World Hockey Association, and missed the playoffs the previous season.
They had the fourth pick overall in that draft, and chose high-scoring Medicine Hat right-winger Lanny McDonald, who had played with Tom Lysiak (drafted second overall the same year by Atlanta) on a very successful line in the Western Junior league.
McDonald had always been, by his own account, a big Leaf fan, so it was very much a dream come true.
He arrived and ended up in his first game playing on a line with the hockey idol of his youth, Dave Keon. In the first game of the 1973-’74 season with the Leafs sporting at least 5 rookies- McDonald, fellow draftees Bob Neely and Ian Turnbull and Swedish imports Borje Salming and Inge Hammarstrom), Keon scored twice and McDonald earned two assists. He played without a helmet for the first time in his hockey career, and wore #7.
Unfortunately, he landed on his head after receiving a hip check from Buffalo forward Richard Martin (who was usually a gunner more than a hitter) and missed some time because of a concussion. McDonald subsequently went back to wearing a helmet.
Though that first game at Maple Leaf Gardens was an auspicious debut, McDonald struggled significantly in his first two seasons with the Leafs. He seemed often injured, fell down a lot and his play generally lacked confidence. (He would, in later years, reveal that he had a poor relationship with his one-time idol, Keon, which I'm guessing perhaps created issues that did not help his performance. Keon was known, as Leaf captain, to sometimes be hard on young Leaf players- much the same way Bert Olmstead was not the easiest teammate to have in the early 60’s if you weren’t pulling your weight. That said, I have no idea what the issues between McDonald and Keon might have been.)
McDonald came in with a big contract, probably earning as much or more than guys who had played with the Leafs for years. He actually could have made more in the World Hockey Association, as he was drafted first overall in that fledgling league by the Cleveland Crusaders. But he chose a dream over the extra money.
Sitting up in the ‘greys’ most nights, I saw a change in McDonald’s game in his third season, 1975-’76. He started carrying the puck more on the wing, trying to beat defensemen to the outside. He made some big hits on star players like Bobby Orr and Dennis Potvin on back-to-back Saturday night games at the Gardens, and his game had an edge to it. He was gaining more and more confidence, which accelerated his development. It didn’t hurt that coach Red Kelly played him on a line with Darryl Sittler and Errol Thompson.
As he developed his offensive prowess, other teams started paying particular attention to McDonald and his line. The Islanders would often use huge Clark Gillies (another Westrner) against McDonald, and those were tough battles for the smaller McDonald.
But my favorite match-up to watch was McDonald and Montreal left-winger Bob Gainey.
Gainey was drafted the same year as McDonald, 8th overall out of Peterborough. Gainey was known as primarily a defensive specialist, though he was a fantastic skater, with long strides and a hard shot. He was one of those guys that wasn’t a natural scorer, though he’d get his share of goals.
What he had, though, was speed, smarts and true toughness. He wasn’t interested in fighting, but he would run through guys and when he made a hit.
Gainey just kept getting better and better, playing on a line with veteran Jimmy Roberts and former junior teammate Doug Jarvis. By 1976, around the time of the first Canada Cup, (Gainey and McDonald actually played with Sittler on a line for Team Canada) one of the great Soviet hockey legends, Anatoli Tarasov, I think it was, said Gainey was the best player in the world. I said much the same thing on my radio show at the time. He was such a complete player, dependable, hard to knock off his feet, just a wonderful all-around player, someone you could build a team around.
The match-ups between he and McDonald were classic. I never saw them fight, but I saw them crash into one another many times over the years, especially when I was following the Leafs closely in the mid-70’s. Gainey’s team was certainly more talented and usually had the upper hand, but head-to-head they were evenly matched. McDonald was a scorer who could hit, Gainey could check you to a standstill, hit and score on occasion.
It always struck me that there was an unspoken but very real respect between two highly competitive elite athletes.
While Gainey was part of 5 Stanley Cup winners with the Habs over his 15 years in the league, McDonald and his last team, the Calgary Flames, won the final important match up between them in the 1989 Cup finals.
Gainey was captain of the Habs, McDonald, when he played, wore the captain’s “C” for the Flames.
In Game 6 of the finals at the Forum, McDonald scored the clinching goal, and the Flames became the first opposing team ever to win the Cup on Forum ice.
It was a sweet way to end his career, beating Montreal- who had defeated his Leafs in the playoffs in 1978 and 1979, and his Flames in the 1986 finals.
And, he finally beat his old rival Gainey.
Two classy players, both deserving Hall-of-Famers.
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshkfhjklshfkjshfkjhsjkfhsjkdfhkj
sfsdfsfdfsfsdfsfsdfsfsfsfsdfsdfjkhsdhfjkhjhjkshj
ryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertge
ryergtertge
ryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertge
ryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertge
ryergtertgeryergtertgeryergtertge
TESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTEST
TESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTEST
TESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTEST
TESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTEST
TESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTESTTESTEST
It is difficult to explain just how seriously hockey was taken in my family. Certainly that had not changed at all by the time I was born in 1953, as the youngest of 5 children.
For my Dad, family, his religious faith, heritage and supporting certain sports teams were absolute priorities, presumably in that order.
In the early 1960’s, I’ve often said and written, the order of those priorities seemed to shift frequently, with hockey taking on a disproportionate sense of importance.
Interestingly, many of those priorities meshed together when it came to his passionate support for the Montreal Canadiens. The Habs, for Dad, represented his French-Canadian and religious roots, and he defended those things vigorously throughout his life.
Like many francophones in those days, his favorite player in the 40’s and 50’s was Maurice Richard. Dad thought very highly of Richard, and the Rocket’s fiery temperament in many ways matched that of my father. Dad was fiercely proud of the Rocket’s accomplishments, and when Richard retired just before the 1960-’61 NHL season (I was just turning 7) Richard held the all-time record for most regular season goals (544) and playoff goals (82).
Toward the latter stages of his career, Richard was still able to score goals, but he was not staying in shape in the off-season, and was fighting injuries. When the Rocket retired, Gordie Howe was on a collision course with Richard’s regular season goal-scoring record. The constant march by Howe toward the record was particularly painful for my Dad, in part because of where we lived.
Dad’s home had always been in a very small, French-Canadian village in southwestern Ontario. The closest “city” was Windsor, right across from Detroit, home to the hated (by my Dad, at least) Red Wings and Richard’s long-time rival, Howe.
Again, because of our proximity, every Detroit home game was easily available on the radio, broadcast from Detroit radio station WWJ. Detroit’s primary broadcasters in those days were Budd Lynch and Bruce Martin. Martin was, in my mind, a particularly outstanding play-by-play man with a knack for capturing the key moments in a game in the right octave. He was talented and very professional, though obviously supportive of the Red Wings, as are all hometown broadcasters are.
Lynch, for his part, broadcast beyond the normal and expected range of “homerism”, which offended my Dad all the more. Familiarity bred contempt. Lynch loved Howe and his broadcasts revealed as much. My Dad hated Howe (in hockey terms, at least), so it was a bad cocktail when Dad listened, which was often.
Back in those days, the early 60’s, my Aunt Olive (one of my mother’s older sisters) and her husband, Clarence, lived in the south end of Windsor. My mom came from a big gamily and there was a lot of visiting between all of us, as we all lived within a reasonable driving distance from one another.
When we visited my Aunt Olive and her family, we would often listen to the Red Wing games on the way home. It was about a 20-25 minute drive and we generally were able to catch some of the third period by that time, which was usually around 9 o’clock or so. Montreal played in Detroit 7 times a season in those days, usually on a Sunday night, the evening we would often visit Aunt Olive.
My Dad was one of the forerunners of multi-tasking, so we used to listen to the Wings (and the Detroit Tigers in the summer on WJR) on the way home, while simultaneously saying the rosary. (We said the rosary every night as a family, usually praying on our knees. The only exception was when we were driving.)
It was always my mom, dad and my sister and I in the car. I knew how seriously Dad took these things (hey, I didn’t like Montreal, but I didn’t much like the Wings, either), so it was often a tense drive home, as he would quietly but fervently cheer against the Wings, and especially Howe. Every Howe goal, with Lynch or Martin gleefully telling the story, was like a dagger.
My memories are vivid of many of those evenings, especially when we would listen to hockey games and pray out loud at the same time, reciting the nightly rosary. (The rosary, for those of no or different religious tradition, takes about 15 minutes or so to complete- faster if we were doing it between periods some nights.) Even though Dad would turn down the volume a fair bit on the car radio while we were praying, I knew whenever Howe would score a goal. This is because, in the midst of our earnest prayerfulness, Dad would suddenly – and angrily - punch the button on the old car radio dial. That was the sign that Howe had scored.
There would be momentary silence in the car (my mother and sister could not have cared less about hockey, but were very attuned to my father’s temperament), then a return to a rather monotone rendering of the ‘Our Father’ and ‘Hail Mary’, over and over.
I never discussed this peculiarity with my Dad. The quick strike at the radio dial happened many times, especially in those years as Howe ultimately pursued, caught, and then surpassed the Rocket. It didn’t help that many of Gordie’s big goals (544 to tie the record -check out the photo at the top of the story showing Howe scoring #544- as well as 545 against Charlie Hodge to beat the record, and eventually, number 600, against Worsley) were all scored against Montreal. Dad’s reaction to those moments was never good (and probably not at all healthy) but again, we avoided the subject.
If nothing else (and he was, in fact many good things, and a man with some strong values), Dad should have been considered a minor prophet. He used to complain that Howe scored almost all of his goals by just standing in front of the net, while others did the work to get him the puck.
He often claimed that Gordie would be able to score 20 goals a season sitting in a rocking chair when he was 50. Well, after initially retiring in his early 40’s, Howe indeed made a comeback to play with his sons Mark and Marty and then played until he was in his 50’s, scoring goals all along the way.
In many ways, the more I talked with my Dad over the years, I saw that he actually acknowledged and recognized Howe as a wonderfully talented player, a great player who could make and take a pass like few others, a player with wonderful on-ice vision. He even met Howe briefly at a train station one night, while Howe was travelling with the Red Wings, just sitting down, doing a jigsaw puzzle. They chatted briefly and very pleasantly, according to my Dad (Howe was always, by all accounts, a tremendously cordial individual, including with fans. He was exactly the same when I met him a few years ago, as I was preparing to write a story about Howe).
It’s just that my Dad was so loyal to Richard and everything he felt that Richard stood for, that he loathed the idea of Richard losing his record to a player from the hated rival Red Wings.
But even nightly prayer couldn’t stop the great Red Wing winger from eclipsing the Rocket’s record.
Over time, I aim to include some of the old interviews I did with players and executives from the hockey world, dating back to the mid-1970s and early 80s. It’s fun to harken back to conversations I had 30 years or so ago. Just click on the audio player and enjoy.
---
Tiger Williams was a good Leaf in the mid and later 1970’s. Twice I had the opportunity to interview him, once in 1976 when he was in his first full season with Toronto, and then as he was preparing to play with Vancouver in the 1982 Cup finals. That's the interview we feature here.
Dave "Tiger" Williams joined the Leafs mid-way through the 1974-’75 season. A second round draft choice out of Swift Current, he earned his spot after playing the first half of his rookie season in the Central Hockey League with Oklahoma City.
Williams had a tough guy reputation (over 300 penalty minutes in his final year of junior hockey) and played to it. He was a fighter, and would drop the gloves with the biggest and toughest NHL players, though he wasn’t a huge man himself, at 5’ 11’’ and 190 pounds.
If you saw Tiger play, you know he wasn’t a particularly graceful or fast skater, but he got where he needed to go, mucked it up in the corners and did the dirty work most guys were reluctant – or couldn’t – do.
I had the opportunity to interview Dave twice in my time as a young broadcaster, as the timing of our respective careers conveniently overlapped.
Late in the summer of 1976 I had set up an interview with him, around training camp time. He was about to embark on his first full season with the Leafs, a team in transition with Dave Keon and Norm Ullman gone and Darryl Sittler the new team captain and leader.
Unfortunately, Tiger apparently forgot the interview, which normally wouldn’t have been a huge problem except for the fact that the show I was hosting at the time was live, and I had set aside probably 30 minutes for the interview with Tiger. So I had a lot of unexpected ‘air time’ to fill. (One of the challenges of that particular show was that I hosted it in the middle of a shopping mall at the station’s satellite location. Guests would arrive as I was still on air. There was no “green room” where guests could wait their turn. I would be chatting away while keeping an eye out for the scheduled guest to appear. During a 60-second break we would have them grab a seat, mike them, say hi and start the interview.)
So I filled the time somehow, and just after my show was over that night, Tiger came flying into the broadcast area where we did the program. His bushy hair was flying and he came running up, apologetic that he had forgotten about the planned interview until it was too late. He said the cops were probably chasing him, he had driven so fast to get there, albeit late.
So we set it up again for the following week, and this time Tiger showed up on time. I enjoyed our chat. We were both in our early 20’s, I was maybe a year older than Tiger. We went out for a beer at a restaurant inside the mall when the show was over.
I also connected with Dave in May of 1982, a couple of season after he and Jerry Butler had been traded to Vancouver for Bill Derlago and Rick Vaive.
That season, the Canucks had one of those magical runs that teams sometime have in the playoffs. They weren’t much during the regular season but the playoffs were a different story. Coach Harry Neale had been suspended by the league, so assistant Roger Neilson took over as the interim Head Coach and led the Canucks to the finals. They ultimately lost in four straight to the powerful Islanders, though goalie Richard Brodeur, "King Richard", became a Canuck hero for his outstanding play that memorable spring. It was the first time the Canucks had ever been to the finals to that point in their short NHL history.
Both times I chatted with Tiger, he was pretty much what he has always seemed: Refreshingly candid, opinionated, and confident. If he didn’t like the question that was asked, he had a way of making his point without overtly lashing out at me.
Williams was one of those individuals who always looked after his money and planned for the future. Even sitting in the restaurant with him when he was all of 22 years of age, you could tell he was a fellow who knew where he wanted to go. He loved the West and wanted to learn about industry, the business world.
Tiger played out his career with the Kings and finished up in Hartford, playing more than 1,000 NHL regular season and playoff games in all, scoring more than 250 goals.
In retirement he has been, predictably, successful in his business ventures. A straight-ahead skater in hockey, a straight-shooter in life.
For the Leafs, 1971-’72 was somewhat of a letdown year after a surprisingly strong 1970-’71 season, when they almost upset the very tough New York Rangers in the first round of the playoffs.
In 1970’71, captain Dave Keon had a tremendous season and had been an end of season second-team All-Star (as he had been in 1961-’62), which was a huge accomplishment. Overall, the team was a nice mix of veterans and emerging talent, making strides under General Manager Jim Gregory.
But in ’71-’72, the team seemed to take a bit of a step back. They made the playoffs, but unfortunately drew Boston in the first round. The Bruins were still loaded, after winning the Cup in 1970. They would go on to win it again in 1972, built around Bobby Orr. But they also had Phil Esposito, Wayne Cashman, Ken Hodge, Derek Sanderson, Fred Stanfield, Johnny McKenzie, former Leaf Mike Walton and a hard-nosed defense corps. They had a great mix of talent and grinders.
In the ’72 Boston series, the Leafs still had Jacques Plante and Bernie Parent in goal, and a young defense (most of whom - Brad Selwood and Rick Ley included- were soon to jump to the new World Hockey Association).
The Bruins won the first game handily at home in Boston, but the Leafs played a much pluckier second game, which went into overtime. I never in a million years believed the Leafs could beat the Bruins in overtime, right in Boston Garden, but to my amazement, ex-Bruin Jim Harrison scored the winner for the underdog Leafs. Harrison was a player I loved, a bruising center who finished his checks. He was not a big scorer but took a quick slap/snap shot from just inside the Bruin blue line near the side boards and caught Eddie Johnston back in his net, beating him mid-high on the stick side.
Why do I remember this so well?
Well, at 18, I was old enough to really appreciate how hard it was for my Leafs to do well in the playoffs. Also, I simply hated the Bruins. In a different way than I hated Montreal, but I hated them nonetheless. They were tough, dirty, and way more skilled than the Leafs. They were really good, struck me as arrogant and I just didn’t like them.
I jumped up when Harrison scored, and immediately went to phone my fellow high school friend Mark, who was also a serious Leaf fan. We chatted for quite a while on the phone that night, living the dream, at least for a few minutes, that the Leafs could actually win the series.
It never happened. They lost Game 3 in Toronto 2-0, and then wasted their big chance in Game 4 to even the series. The Leafs held a 4-2 lead at one point in the second period, after Jim McKenny scored a beautiful goal on a breakaway when he sort of floated in toward the net without committing himself and beat the goalie (can’t remember if it was Eddie Johnston or Gerry Cheevers) with a late deke and flip shot up high.
Unfortunately, Paul Henderson had a clear-cut breakaway shortly thereafter, and had he scored, the Leafs would have been ahead 5-2, and likely home and cooled out, even against the talented Bruins.
But as Henderson often did on breakaways, he didn’t score, and the Bruins gained momentum and eventually came back and beat the Leafs by a goal.
Toronto kept it close in Game 5 in Boston, but lost by a goal while buzzing around the Bruins net at the end.
Though it was a disappointing end to the season (it always has been, since 1967), I will always remember the Harrison goal. It was a huge goal in what could have been a much longer series.
In the spring of 1964, the Leafs were shooting for their third consecutive Stanley Cup. Punch Imlach had swung a major deal to obtain Andy Bathgate in February, giving up a huge chunk of the Leafs future (established youngsters Dick Duff and Bob Nevin, as well as budding junior stars Rod Seiling and Arnie Brown).
That semi-final series is famous in Leaf lore for a number of reasons, but primarily for the fact that Dave Keon scored all three goals in Game 7, a 3-1 victory for Toronto at the Forum in Montreal.
But what I also remember about that series, when I was all of 10 years old, is that many of the games were not available on the local CBC television affiliate (in Windsor, Ontario) because the nearby Detroit Red Wings were also in the playoffs, and they had a black-out rule in effect which was supported by the NHL.
In those days, if I remember correctly, a team could “black out” a television broadcast within a 50-mile radius when they were playing at home. Playoff games (both series, as there were only two back in the 6-team NHL) were played on the same night, at least during the week - on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
So that spring, the Leafs were taking on Montreal and the Wings were facing Chicago, with Chicago, like Montreal, having the home rink advantage by virtue of finishing higher in the standings during the regular season.
Both series went 7 games; that meant 3 games in Toronto and Detroit, and at least 3 games that I couldn’t watch on television. (As far as I remember, all the games may have been blacked out for some reason, but I just can’t recall for sure.)
What I do remember is that in either Game 3 or 4 in Toronto, I did get to watch the game on TV, but it took some doing. (I just checked a source, and the facts are that what I am recalling must have been Game 3, in Toronto, on March 31, 1964.)
Friends from just down the road, the Charette family, had several sons- young adults, teenagers and one just a bit older than myself. They were virtually all ardent Montreal fans. So on this particular night, they decided they would (I assume with their Dad’s permission) take the family station wagon and head to Chatham, about 50 miles east of Windsor/Detroit to find a motel that was carrying the playoff game.
I and one of my older brothers were invited to come along. It may even be that Mr. Charette, who operated a religious articles store in nearby Windsor (we lived in the small nearby town called River Canard) drove that night. I’m not quite certain.
I do remember that we managed to get a room, and watched the game on a rather smallish black and white TV. I’m thinking there were 7 or 8 of us in total. It was a close game, and I believe I was the only Leaf fan in the rented – and cramped- hotel room that we occupied that night. (I was also the youngest person on the trip, which was kind of neat.)
It was a tense game to watch, very close, but the Leafs were seemingly in control and leading 2-1, when the Canadiens scored two late goals in the third period to win 3-2. Henri Richard scored the winner in the very last minute, deking around Johnny Bower.
I remember my shock at the turn of events.
I also remember several of the Charette boys leaping up and banging their fists on the wall with joy when both Montreal goals were scored. (We likely were not allowed back in that hotel…)
It was so depressing, but I was obviously the only disappointed guy on the car ride home that night. All the Montreal fans were thrilled.
I now also remember, as I write this, that Mr. Charette must have driven, at least on this particular night. Why? Because I recall that, as I lay down in the very back end of the wagon (that wouldn’t be allowed today, especially on a highway- I wasn’t even in a seat and there was no seat belt) that we said the rosary on the way home. I doubt that would have happened if one of the sons was doing the driving.
We got home very late that night. But it had been worth the drive to Chatham. As for the Leafs, they overcame that tough loss, and went on to win the series.
Over time, I aim to include some of the old interviews I did with players and executives from the hockey world, dating back to the mid-1970s and early 80s. It’s fun to harken back to conversations I had 30 years or so ago. Just click on the audio link and enjoy.
---
I Interviewed Hall-of-Famer Rocket Richard a few times in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s. The former Montreal Canadiens great was always generous with his time, and engaging to speak with. This interview was done in the early 1980’s. Although this isn't an interview with a Leaf (I have some such interviews that I plan to post in the future), Richard was certainly a key player in the classic Montreal-Leaf rivalry. I hope you'll find it's an enjoyable listen.
We all well remember that the Leafs last won the Stanley Cup in 1967.
But many current Leaf fans were not even born –or cannot remember- the last time the team finished the regular season in first place.
In fact, the Leafs last accomplished this feat during the 1962-’63 NHL season.
On the third last game of the regular season, the Leafs were trailing Montreal by a goal, 3-2, late in the game in Toronto. They needed a tie, one point, to clinch first place.
As it was a Wednesday night game, there was no TV broadcast where I lived in southwestern Ontario. (I believe the broadcast would have been available in the Toronto area.) But I remember the outcome well, because I have always held onto the picture that appeared in the local newspaper the next day. It shows Dave Keon on the edge of the crease, scoring from in close against Montreal goalie Jacques Plante. The goal, scored with less than 10 seconds to play in the game, ensured the Leafs first place.
Finishing first in and of itself was and is certainly not as important as winning the Stanley Cup, of course, which they also did that year in only 10 games (2 five-game series against both Montreal and Detroit). But for the Leafs, it was not something that happened routinely even in the old 6-team NHL. In fact, the Red Wings won the regular season title 7 years in a row in the 1950’s, and Montreal was usually the other team that dominated the regular season in those days.
In any event, that ’62-’63 Leaf team may have been the best in my lifetime, demonstrated by the fact that they did indeed finish first during the regular season, and were not really challenged seriously in the playoffs. Keon, Mahovlich, Duff and Nevin were the young stars, with Bower in goal, Simmons ready in reserve. They had the big four (Horton, Stanley, Baun and Brewer) on defense and strong leadership in Red Kelly, George Armstrong, Ed Litzenberger and Bob Pulford. With useful role players like Al Arbour, Ron Stewart and Billy Harris, the Leafs were loaded. They had depth and could skate, check and score.
So when it feels a bit depressing to think of how long it’s been since the last Cup, we need to remind ourselves- it’s been even longer since the Leafs finished first.
In April of 1962, the Maple Leafs were in the finals, looking to win their first Stanley Cup since Bill Barilko’s famous overtime winner in the spring of 1951.
To Leaf fans now, that doesn’t seem like such a long time when you’ve waited over 40 years for a championship season. But back then, the Leafs had gone through a rough cycle in the mid-1950’s, as the Red Wings, Montreal and then Chicago had built powerful, successful NHL teams that won the Cup from 1952 through 1961. The Leafs struggled in the mid-50’s, until Punch Imlach took over as General Manager in 1958.
In the spring of ’62, I was 8 years old, and I well remember the Leafs were playing Chicago in the finals. The Hawks had won the Cup the year before, eliminating Montreal in 6 games in the semi-finals (Montreal was looking for a 6th consecutive Cup) before defeating Gordie Howe and the Red Wings, also in 6 games.
The Hawks were a tough, strong team, featuring not only Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita and of course the great Glenn Hall in goal, but Pierre Pilotte, Elmer "Moose" Vasko, Dollard St. Laurent, Kenny Wharram, Bill “Red” Hay, Ab McDonald and many other fine players.
The Leafs had won the first two games of the series in Toronto, but were badly outplayed in Chicago in games 3 and 4. I remember reading, a few years later, Scott Young’s wonderful book called “The Leafs I Knew”, a compilation of stories he had written while he was following the Leafs as a writer with the Globe & Mail, and his recollections of the years between 1958 and 1963. After game 4, he had quoted Leaf players as saying they had to create more traffic in front of Glenn Hall- essentially had to ‘go to the net’ in today’s parlance.
I wasn’t privy to that kind of “inside information” back then. I didn’t read the Globe & Mail. There were no talk shows or highlight shows. As a youngster rooting so hard for the Leafs, I was just really concerned as the series went back to Toronto on a Thursday night for Game 5. If the Leafs lost at home, I didn’t like Toronto’s chances heading back to Chicago for game 6 against the defending champs. Even at that young age, I knew Chicago fans were crazy, and there were more than 20,000 people crammed into that old building, even though the announced attendance was always 16,666.
Timing is everything, and well, it so happened that in that particular year, the finals fell during an important week in the religious life of my family. As Catholics, Lent was a solemn time of the Church calendar, and this was what was and still is referred to as Holy Week, which includes Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
How did this affect the Leafs? Not at all. But it certainly impacted me, as Holy Thursday mass was considered “obligatory” in those days for Catholics. As I recall, back in 1962 there was one Mass on Holy Thursday and that was it. And, tragically, it felt at the time, the Mass started at 8pm, the same time the Leaf game started that night.
Going at all was bad enough, but Holy Thursday Mass, to a child then, was particularly long and especially laborious and ceremonious. It likely lasted a good 90 minutes, and it seemed much, much longer. I clearly looked unhappy sitting in my pew, when a young friend (a year older, but also a Leaf fan) sitting just behind me leaned over at one point and said, “You’re not the only one that’s not happy…” which pretty much said it all.
But my faith in my faith was restored after we arrived home. I rushed to turn on the TV to discover that the Leafs were ahead of Chicago by a score of something like 6-3. I think the final score that night was 8-4.
Obviously, going to Church had made the difference. At the age of 8, I wasn’t prepared to analyze things any further than that.
The Leafs went on to win game 6 in Chicago a few nights later, with Dick Duff scoring the winning goal late in the third period. I was so excited. I couldn’t believe my Leafs had won.
It was my first Cup.
The feeling was repeated, happily, a few times over the next several years. But as we all know, all good things must come to an end.
Little did we young Leaf fans know that the “end” would feel this permanent.
The first professional athlete I ever met lived just down the road. Well, not just down the road, but pretty close.
I was born in 1953 and grew up a huge Toronto Maple Leaf fan, despite the presence of my Dad and two older brothers who were passionate fans of the Montreal Canadiens.
Like tens of thousands of other Canadian kids at the time, my favorite player (and Leaf ) of all time was then, and still is, Dave Keon, who joined the Leafs in the fall of 1960 when I was turning 7 years of age. Keon, over the years, became someone special to follow because of the way he played- a small guy with speed, a big heart, superb skill, balance and brains.
But a different “type” of favorite was a virtual hometown boy by the name of Marc Reaume.
I was raised outside of Windsor, in Essex County, in a very small community called River Canard. (In French, and this was primarily a French-speaking community, it was “Riviere-Aux-Canards”. My friends from the “big city” of Windsor used to mockingly call it Duck River.) We were located between two other small towns, Amherstburg and LaSalle. Marc Reaume lived just minutes away in Lasalle.
Reaume had played locally for Assumption High School in Windsor, a school I would attend years later. He played for Fr. Ron Cullen, a priest and local coaching legend in the Windsor area who is in the Canadian Baseball Hall-of-Fame, and rightly so. I myself played baseball for Fr. Cullen for 5 years. He was a brilliant teacher of fundamentals, a tough but caring man who would bench a player for the tiniest of mental mistakes. To this day I have fond memories of playing for him.
Interestingly, I remember that in later years Reaume, in a magazine article, credited Cullen with being the coach who taught him the fundamentals required to play the game at the professional level.
Reaume was signed by the Leafs in the mid 1950’s and played off and on for Billy Reay and then Punch Imlach in the late 1950’s. He was a strong skater and good all-around defenseman. But in those days of the 6-team NHL, the Leafs had Tim Horton, Allen Stanley, Bobby Baun and Carl Brewer as their four-man blueline. Most teams used only four defensemen in those days. Reaume, like Al Arbour, Kent Douglas and Larry Hillman who came after him, was often a 5th wheel.
The 1959-'60 season was a significant one for Punch Imlach, the General Manager of the Leafs. The previous season, with Imlach in control as General Manager and Coach, the Leafs lost in the finals to the Canadiens. They were improving quickly, but not quite ready to beat Montreal. Imlach was building a strong mix of solid veterans like Bower, Stanley and captain George Armstrong, with kids like Carl Brewer, Bobby Baun, Dickie Duff emerging as strong players and Bob Nevin and Dave Keon set to arrive the next season.
Montreal was on its way to winning its 5th Stanley Cup in a row and Imlach felt the Leafs needed a big center to shut down Jean Beliveau in Montreal.
Earlier that 1959-'60 season, the Red Wings had tried to trade Red Kelly, their Norris Trophy winning defenseman, to New York. He refused to report to the Rangers, and he was kind of in limbo until Imlach arranged to trade for him and convinced him to come to Toronto. In return, the Leafs gave up Marc Reaume.
In the summer of 1960, a few months after the trade had been completed, my Dad surprised me by offering to take me to actually meet Reaume. My Dad worked in the area and likely knew the family a bit.
It was only about a 10 minute drive, if that. I was nervous and so excited to meet an NHL player. Marc personalized an autographed picture for me and shook my hand and was very friendly to an awe-struck young boy. I was on cloud nine.
I always held on to that autograph, and followed Marc’s career. He only played sporadically for the Red Wings after that first season. He ended up in the Montreal system and played a few games under Toe Blake in Montreal, but spent most of the rest of his career in the minor leagues. He was voted best defenseman in the old Central Hockey League when it was a top development league in the late 1960’s and fed a lot of players to the NHL, but Reaume never got another chance in the big leagues again until the second wave of expansion in 1970-’71. He played the first half of the season with the Vancouver Canucks, but was sent down to the minors again. His career ended within a year, when he was driving to a game and suffered severe injuries in a car accident. He recovered, but never fully, and could not continue with his career.
It was a sudden and sad end to a solid pro career. He may have been the only player ever to play for each of the three Canadian teams-Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver.
It has always troubled me when people talk about the Kelly trade as lopsided in favor of the Leafs (it obviously was, in terms of outcome, as Kelly helped the Leafs win 4 Stanley Cups before retiring in 1967) or mention Reaume only as the answer to a trivia question. I looked up to Marc Reaume because he was from my area and not just that, he was a quiet, classy guy who didn’t have a huge ego and was well-regarded in the game and his local community. He just happened to be the player that went the other way once the Wings were determined to get rid of Kelly, when Kelly had a falling out with his General Manager, Jack Adams.
Marc Reaume was always, to me, the local guy who truly “did good”. He was the first real pro—in every sense—I ever met.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)