Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Shoots and Scores (54 page)

GOING OUT A WINNER

At age 21, he appeared to have started a solid NHL career. But despite the boundless enthusiasm he showed for hockey and life in general, Costello had serious doubts about his career choice. At the end of the 1949–50 season, he made a big decision, leaving hockey to enter the seminary and become a Catholic priest. Costello graduated four years later and was ordained, serving in parishes in the northern Ontario area where he grew up.

A CALL TO THE BIGS

But Father Costello was far from finished with hockey. He formed a team of priests from all parts of Ontario called the Flying Fathers. The team, which played the game well but also added hilarious comedy routines, played a busy schedule of games across Canada, raising millions of dollars for various charities. The Flying Fathers also played games in Europe and had a Vatican audience with Pope Paul VI. “Being a priest was a thought I had from a young age but I loved hockey, too, and the game got me to St. Mike's where several priests were a big influence on me and many others,” Costello said. “I loved my time in hockey, both junior and pro, and playing on a Stanley Cup winner is a rare happening for
any player. But my ‘other' career possibility never went away. In the Catholic faith, we believe that God selects the ones he wants to be priests and we don't know why he makes his choices.”

* * * * *

“Hockey captures the essence of Canadian experience in the New World. In a land so inescapably and inhospitably cold, hockey is the chance of life, and an affirmation that despite the deathly chill of winter we are alive.”

—Canadian humorist Stephen Leacock

* * * * *

“I don't understand the deliberate intent to injure. I played this game for a long time and never deliberately tried to hurt anyone—except the Russians.”

—Phil Esposito as NY Rangers general manager,
after sending the tape of an incident where Dave Brown of the Flyers cross-checked Rangers forward Tomas Sandstrom in the face, April 1987

* * * * *

DOH!

“You've got to go to the net if you want to score.”

—Tom McVie, former coach,
Washington Capitals

“When we've got the puck, they can't score.”

—Paul Coffey,
former Oilers defenceman

Howie Morenz and Rocket Richard, major figures in two Montreal sports/political eras, had funerals that rivaled those of royalty.

W
riter Andy O'Brien used a side entrance of the Montreal Forum on a March day in 1937 and was puzzled by the total silence in the building. He had expected a large crowd for the funeral of Howie Morenz, the great star of the Montreal Canadiens and an important player in the successful U.S. expansion of the NHL. “Morenz had lay in state at center ice in the Forum and nonstop for more than two days, the stream of people never eased, and many of the game's biggest stars were in a guard of honor around his casket,” O'Brien said. “When I entered under the seats for the funeral and the building had this almost eerie silence, I couldn't believe it because I expected a full house. When I could see the stands, every seat in the building was being used but not a sound was made.” Similarly memorable images marked the departure of another Canadien icon, Maurice “Rocket” Richard in May, 2000: four-deep lines of people stretching around the new Molson (now Bell) Center and nearby Windsor Station, part of the 115,000 who viewed the Rocket's casket over 24 hours.

FERVENTLY IDOLIZED

The two great players were idolized in Montreal with a fervor usually reserved for religious leaders or great politicians. Morenz was of Swiss descent and from Ontario, but his extraordinary talent, charisma and the spark he gave Les Habitants made him as popular as if his name were Quelque Chose. Richard was the greatest goal-scorer of his time, a member of eight Stanley Cup championship teams, and a player who always had an on-ice war going with an opponent with a non-French name: Lindsay, Laycoe, Ezinicki…His suspension late in the 1954–55 season that led to the St. Patrick's Day riot at the Forum is viewed by many
historians as the start of the Quiet Revolution in which the French slowly took control of their economy and culture. The Rocket's funeral was attended by a multitude of politicians and sports figures and estimations of the crowd in the streets for his funeral procession range as high as two million.

Morenz had died at 35 in hospital for a broken leg. Concerned about his future and the likely end to his playing the game he loved, close friends claimed he died of a broken heart. More than 200,000 lined the streets as his body went to the cemetery.

* * * * *

CHERRY PICKING

Don Cherry doesn't pull his punches—he either loves ya or hates ya. Here are some of his best digs and honours.

“When I compared one of my players to Blue, it was like nominating him for knighthood.”

“Even a poultry expert wouldn't buy some of the turkeys we had on our roster.”

“He [Bobby Orr] was the greatest hockey player I have ever seen, Gordie Howe and Wayne Gretzky included.”

“I'm just me. I'm like bagpipes—either you like them or you hate them.”

* * * * *

“I remember taking a look at him and saying ‘Anyone who perms his hair has got to go.' So we sent him to Fort Worth.”

—Don Cherry, March 1987, on Don Saleski,
whom he coached in Colorado

From the buzzcut to the mullet, hockey hair has its own history.

T
oday, the term “hockey hair” usually conjures up images of a “mullet,” the style favored by men who yearn for the days when Bon Jovi topped the charts and the Edmonton Oilers dominated the NHL. In the golden era of the Original Six, though, hockey's standard issue haircut was the military buzzcut, which kept everybody looking pretty similar. The 1960s Toronto Maple Leafs occasionally used this fact to their advantage. Let's say a certain Leaf was summoned to traffic court for a driving violation. He would get a teammate to appear in the dock in his stead. When the policeman was asked to identify the culprit, he'd point to the wrong guy, and the case would be dismissed.

THE 1970s AND 1980s: UNLOCKING THE LOCKS

Only in the Styling Seventies did players start to introduce a little madness into their manes. Derek Sanderson of the Boston Bruins was the perfect example. The forward's long hair, big sideburns, and Fu Manchu moustache gave him a rebellious glamor only rivaled in contemporary pro sports by NFL superstar Joe Namath. Retrospectively, however, Sanderson looks like nothing more than an extra from
Boogie Nights
.

Another forward of lesser talent had his hairdo immortalized in the classic 1970s hockey film
Slap Shot
. Bill Goldthorpe was the model for the fictional goon Ogie Oglethorpe, and both were instantly recognizable due to their huge blond afros. The look seemed to accentuate the ferocity of this career minor league battler, whose record included throwing a phone at a referee, biting a linesman, and jail time.

Mel Bridgman was a bit of a rough-and-tumble character himself, but you wouldn't have known it from the nickname his Philadelphia Flyers teammates gave the 1975 No. 1 overall draft pick. When Bobby Clarke stepped down as the captain of the
Broad Street Bullies in 1979, Bridgman took over the “C.” According to Andrew Podnieks' book
Players
, however, Bridgman “quickly lost the respect of his teammates, who dubbed him ‘Captain Shampoo,' because, it seems, his greatest concern was ensuring there was enough hair wash in the showers.'”

This was the sort of problem Bobby Hull would have loved to have had during the 1978 WHA playoffs. With his Winnipeg Jets facing the goon-heavy Birmingham Bulls in a first round matchup, The Golden Jet engaged in fisticuffs with another
Slap Shot
alumnus, Dave Hanson. At first it was a normal fight, but then a hush fell over the Winnipeg crowd when Hanson pulled off Hull's toupee! Shocked, Hanson dropped the lustrous rug to the ice. He was only assessed a minor and a major for fighting, rather than the usual match penalty for hair-pulling, since he hadn't tugged Hull's real hair. Hanson apologized when he saw Hull returning for the second period in a JOFA helmet. Hull said, “Don't worry about it, kid, I needed a new one anyway.”

Ron Duguay cut a more glamorous figure with the New York Rangers in the early 1980s. The forward was noted for three things: his on-ice scoring panache, his relationship with supermodel Kim Alexis, and his long, curly brown locks. He maintained the latter with great care. One night, Duguay was serving a two-minute minor, and the penalty timekeeper noticed a peculiar odour. Continuing to sniff the air, the official finally realized it was the coconut hair oil with which Duguay had anointed himself.

Wayne Gretzky was anointed as hockey's savior around the same time, and the Great One also adopted a series of distinctive hairdos in the 1980s. In fact, merely by glancing at a Gretzky photo, an astute observer can tell which year it is: “Duguay-style perm? The 1981 Canada Cup. Short spiky blond look? Married to Janet and traded to L.A. in 1988.”

THE 1990s AND BEYOND

The 1990s had their share of hairy glory, too. Enforcer Chris Simon and scrappy center Mike Ricci were teammates for four seasons with the Colorado Avalanche franchise, but they were simultaneously competing for the title of NHL's Longest Hairdo. Ricci would eventually triumph after Simon abandoned his stance
that long hair honored his native Indian heritage and got it chopped off.

But the most famous hockey hair of the 1990s unquestionably belonged to Jaromir Jagr. The Czech superstar of the Pittsburgh Penguins was the first player not named Gretzky or Lemieux to win the NHL scoring title since 1981, and the powerful right-winger performed his wizardry with a spectacular set of black curls streaming from beneath his helmet. Jagr reputedly has strong faith in the Bible, but perhaps he forgot to read the story of Samson and Delilah. Much like Samson, Jagr seemed to lose his strength after he got his hair cut in 1999. In fairness, he won a couple more scoring titles, yet his passion for the game waned, and he would make a lot of people's hair fall out with his indifference after moving on to Washington and New York.

Hockey people tend to be conservative. If it works, keep on doing it. That's why Toronto defenceman Bryan McCabe took some heat for his flight of follicular fancy in 2003 when his play fell off concurrently. “If Jaromir Jagr can wear a mullet for eight years, why can't I wear a mohawk?” McCabe griped. “As long as I can go home and my wife likes it, that's the most important thing.”

KANE'S MANE

Hockey's most revered hair-related tradition is the growing of a playoff beard. Players who've made it to the Stanley Cup playoffs stop shaving until either their team is eliminated or they hoist the Cup. But what about those poor boyish souls who can barely muster a little peach fuzz on the lip? One of them, the Chicago Blackhawks' star winger Patrick Kane, came up with a playoff tradition of his own: For his team's successful run for the 2010 Stanley Cup, Kane had his hair cut into an 1980s-style mullet (which he described as “business up front and party in the back”). For Kane—who was born in 1988, the first year that mullet-king Jaromir Jagr played professional hockey—this hairstyle was more than a superstition, it was a tribute to a bygone era.

Wherein we observe the tumultuous friendship of goaltenders Olaf Kolzig and Byron Dafoe.

R
OCK 'EM, SOCK 'EM GOALIES

Goalie-on-goalie fights are rare in the NHL. When they do happen, it's usually a sign of how out-of-control a hockey brawl has become—it's so intense that even the two guys at opposite ends of the ice decide to duke it out. Although there have been a few fiery NHL goalies over the years who loved to mix it up with any player willing to drop the gloves—Ron Hextall of the Flyers and Billy Smith of the Islanders are prime examples—most netminders steer clear of a tussle. (They need to stay focused on their job of stopping the puck, plus all of that bulky goaltending equipment generally makes for awkward combat.) So clumsy goalie fights are generally seen by hockey fans as comedic relief. But one goalie fight, tinged with a bit of personal drama, took place during a 1998 game between the Washington Capitals and the Boston Bruins.

THE EARLY DAYS

Capital Olaf Kolzig (a South African–born German) and Bruin Byron Dafoe (a British citizen who emigrated to British Columbia as a teen) first stepped on the ice together in the Western Hockey League in the late 1980s, and eventually they played against each other enough to develop a rivalry. In one raucous WHL game between Kolzig's Tri-City Americans and Dafoe's Portland Winter Hawks, the two goalies even got into a fistfight. But over time, the enmity between them evolved into a friendly rivalry. They became off-ice friends as they battled their way up to the NHL. By the summer of 1998, Dafoe even served as best man at Kolzig's wedding.

FIIIIIGHT!

But old rivalries die hard. That November, during a game between the Bruins and Capitals, a brief scrum in front of Boston's net escalated
into a full-on hockey brawl. And the second Dafoe entered the fray, Kolzig came barreling across the rink and grabbed onto Boston's Ken Belanger. Dafoe saw that his old friend was now in the mix and went after him. At first it seemed like Dafoe was only trying to pull Kolzig off of Belanger, but then the goalies started an actual fight of their own. They began throwing punches, and Dafoe even flashed Kolzig a sinister grin. An incredulous announcer with Boston's NESN TV observed, “I'm guessing there's no anniversary gift after this.” But after the fight was over, the goalies made up: a few years later, Kolzig was best man at Dafoe's wedding.