The Goal of My Life (4 page)

That decision, of course, opened up a world of possibilities for me and for my family.
NHL
salaries then weren’t like they are now, but hockey was a good career and there was a good life possible after it too, with many opportunities available for former players that weren’t available for people who had never played the game.

Hockey allowed me and my family to enjoy a very good life, one very different from the one my parents had. And it was my father’s convincing me to give it a real shot that led me to get over my fear of being poor and freed me to do what it took to play in the
NHL
. I have him to thank for all that.

Oddly enough, my hockey career started in the basement of a Chinese restaurant, and with balls, not with pucks.

Charlie Chin, a Chinese immigrant, opened a restaurant in Lucknow in the 1940s, and I would head there to play ball hockey in the basement of the restaurant with five of his
sons, who were all pretty good players but far too small to play the game at the professional level. But they were good enough to draw large crowds to the Lucknow Arena to watch them play, and it was the start to my own playing days.

I’d played a lot of pond hockey, of course, like all kids did back in those days. Two friends of mine in particular, Murray and Bob Hunter, would spend hours on end with me playing hockey on a pond near their home. That’s where you really develop a true love for the game, playing with your friends.

I had a fair amount of natural athletic ability, to be sure, and great speed, and later on I developed a very good shot from playing all that fun hockey with my buddies. By the time I got to peewee, I was a frequent goal scorer, and I demonstrated that for the first time at a tournament in Goderich.

That peewee tournament had teams from as far away as Winnipeg, and I scored six goals in one of the games. That led to the first daily newspaper article with my name in it, which was a really great thrill for me. After that, teams basically double-teamed me to try to slow me down, which my always competitive father/coach didn’t like in the least! But it was an early sign that maybe I did have some special talents as a player.

We were from a small town, but that didn’t hurt my cause at all. There weren’t enough players to go around for a lot of teams because of the size of the place, so I got to play bantam, midget, and juvenile hockey all in the same season. That also meant I was often times playing against players as much as four years older than I was – but that really only made me better in the long run.

When I was fifteen I had the greatest game of my life up until that point – and I guess when you consider that I scored eighteen goals in one game, it has to stand as my greatest individual game ever! That performance came in a juvenile playoff game between Lucknow and Wainfleet, a 21–6 win, and I also had two assists – just to show that I was the complete package, ha ha!

My dad had always told me to take my first shot at the goalie’s head, just to unnerve him, so I always fired a high, hard one right away. In that game everything went in – I had four goals on my first shift! – and for the first time I attracted the attention of some scouts. By the way, in case you want to know, the secret to scoring eighteen goals in one game is to find a very bad goalie to play against!

My eighteen-goal game got a nice article in the
London Free Press
, and after hearing about my performance, some professional scouts took notice. The first major step in my career – playing at the major junior level – was about to take place.

T
HREE NHL TEAMS – HALF OF THE LEAGUE AT THE
time – expressed interest in signing me. Those teams were Toronto, Boston, and Detroit. Boston’s scout, Baldy Cotton, came to our house to speak with my dad. They were not a strong team then, from my father’s perspective (he was a big Red Wings fan!), but because of that he thought I might have a better chance to make the
NHL
if I went with them and they wanted me, so I decided to attend their junior team’s training camp the following year in Niagara Falls.

When Jimmy Skinner, the Detroit scout, heard about my plans, he suggested I skate with their junior team in Hamilton for a few days to help me prepare for Niagara Falls. I figured why not, since I hadn’t signed anything at that point, and the Hamilton camp started three days prior to the one in Niagara Falls. After the three days there, Skinner told me that the Red Wings would sign me if I would agree to the terms with them, and that way I wouldn’t have to worry about going to the Bruins camp in Niagara Falls and perhaps
getting cut. Hamilton was also closer to my home, and after talking it over with Eleanor, I decided to sign with the Red Wings. Boston wasn’t the least bit happy with Detroit; they felt I had a future with them and that the Red Wings had stolen me from them. But the decision was made: I was going to sign with the Red Wings.

I needed plenty of playing time, that was the most important thing, and a chance to display and practise my skills. When they asked me to consider playing with the Goderich Sailors, their junior B team (which was close to Lucknow), I readily agreed. Goderich was just forty kilometres from Lucknow, and I could continue going to school and also be closer to Eleanor. That was a perfect fit for me. At sixteen, I was their youngest player. I enjoyed a good year there playing on a line with Carlo Rossi and Darcy Oliver.

The next season, 1960–61, I was back in Hamilton but didn’t play a regular shift. I killed penalties and saw spot duty because my coach, Eddie Bush, knew I still wasn’t ready for junior A. They decided to send me down to the junior B Hamilton Bees, where I scored eighteen goals in twelve games, after which I finished the season with the junior A team for their playoffs.

Things really took off for me in 1961–62 when Hamilton won the Memorial Cup. I played a lot, had twenty-four goals in fifty games, and was part of a great ride to the toughest trophy championship to win in hockey, the Memorial Cup. What a terrific season that was for me and the team.

We beat the St. Catharines Teepees, who had Phil Esposito, Dennis Hull, and Ken Hodge in their lineup, in six games. It also took us six games to eliminate the Niagara Falls Flyers,
with J.P. Parise and Terry Crisp, while St. Michael’s, featuring Rod Seiling, took us five games to conquer. We also eliminated the Quebec Citadelles in four games.

In the final against Edmonton, I scored a goal in the last game (played in Kitchener; the series was played in Guelph and Hamilton as well, so all the games weren’t home games for us), and we won the championship that night. It’s still a wonderful memory after all these years. We had great players like Pit Martin (thirty-six goals), Lowell MacDonald (forty-eight goals to lead the Ontario Hockey Association), and my centreman and our captain, Howie Menard.

Eddie Bush, an old-school coach, was great for my development as a player that season. He was strict and headstrong, but he taught me the importance of defensive hockey. I worked on that aspect of my game, to the point where I later became known as a solid defensive player and a good team guy. Bush also insisted that his players be clean-cut – he hated long hair on his players – and made me get a brush cut. We also had to wear a jacket and tie everywhere. Ever since then, I’ve paid attention to maintaining a professional-looking appearance.

What a special season that was, and what a thrill to be able to win the Memorial Cup. MacDonald and Martin were just magic together, two of the top forwards in all of junior hockey at that time. They really provided the bulk of the scoring and were terrific together playing on a line with Joe Bagosa on the wing.

Pit was such a star in junior hockey; he was smart on the ice and he could really do it all. He was such a great playmaker, and there were no weaknesses in his game. He was a go-to guy on offence, and that line really clicked.

I played on a line that season with Menard, who was a tremendous centre, and a left-winger by the name of John Grafton, another pretty good junior player. Menard was such a fireball, he really inspired us, and he was a good leader in the dressing room. We were the grinding line, but with my speed I could sometimes create some chances, so we were a solid unit. I always took pride in my defensive game, and we played an important role on a team that won a championship, which was very satisfying.

We had a terrific defence as well, led by Bobby Wall, one of the best defenceman in all of junior A hockey, and we were a tough team to play against, thanks primarily to a guy by the name of Ronnie Harris.

Harris was by far the toughest guy in the league, and did he ever make us play braver. Especially in junior hockey, it was really good to know we had the toughest guy in the world sitting right there on the bench. And just like a lot of tough guys – guys like John Ferguson, for example – he was one of the nicest people in the world off the ice. But put a pair of skates on him, and he would get that glaze in his eyes. It’s kind of like Jekyll and Hyde – guys like that become crazy! The toughness Ronnie added to our team made him really valuable.

Our goalie, Buddy Bloom, was outstanding that year as well. He was my roommate, a great guy, and we never would have won the Memorial Cup without him. He was just incredible in the playoffs and was so dedicated to hockey.

Honestly, Buddy was the straightest guy you’d ever want to meet. He never dated while in junior hockey, and never took so much as one drink. He was all about school and hockey with us, and he later went on to the University
of Denver instead of staying and trying to play in the minor pros.

Funny thing: once he got to Denver, he went from being the straightest guy in the world to the wildest! He really let loose once he got away from junior hockey. But Buddy was just tremendous for us, and like I said, we couldn’t have won without him.

As great as that season was, the summer after the Memorial Cup win was a difficult one for me. That was the time I started wondering whether the life of a hockey player was for me. As I said, I had the dread of being poor and was considering getting on with my university education – until my dad convinced me to give it one more shot and make it a real shot.

Eddie Bush was also very helpful to me then.

“You have the skating ability, the strength, and the desire to play in the
NHL
,” he said. “You work hard, and that hard work will pay off for you. Let others play tough and get into fights. You go out and score goals. Play aggressively, but don’t fight. Use your speed and shot to get goals. Fighters are a dime a dozen. Goal scoring will get you into the
NHL
.”

Bush was right. Along with my dad, he really made me stay focused on hockey and told me exactly what I needed to do to make it to the next level.

In my final season of junior hockey, 1962–63, I really blossomed. I scored forty-nine goals in forty-eight games to lead the
OHA
. Even though we didn’t have nearly as good a team as we did in winning the Memorial Cup – we had a very young team, as many of our players had turned pro after the Cup win or were just too old to play junior A anymore – I had a good year. Buddy Bloom was a huge help to me. We’d
stay after practice and he’d let me fire snap shots at him until we were both exhausted, so I developed a really quick release. Everybody fires the puck quickly these days, of course, but back then I was known for snapping the puck quickly, and Buddy really helped me work on that shot. Pit Martin was second to me in goals with thirty-six that year, so I was really on my way to a career in the
NHL
.

I loved my time in junior hockey – what kid from a small town wouldn’t? The travel was pretty easy, as there were only eight teams in the league and most of the bus trips were short. The Montreal Junior Canadiens were in the league and were our farthest rival. We took the train to play them, and that was a pretty big deal to us, but most of the time it was off to St. Catharines, Guelph, Peterborough, Niagara Falls, and Toronto. We had our fun, but we took the game seriously too, so all in all it was a great time, and it helped me develop into a more mature person and a better hockey player.

I have to admit I was pretty green! I remember one night during my first year in Hamilton we got to go to a steak house in town before going to play in Peterborough, but I wasn’t really looking forward to it because I didn’t like steak – the only steak I’d had was at home, and my mother used to overcook it in the frying pan! And this place was pretty nice too – the kind of restaurant I’d never been to before.

We got there, and I saw that there were two forks at each place setting. I thought, What the heck? Two forks – what’s that for? I didn’t have a clue that one was for salad, of course! Then they asked us what kind of dressing we wanted on our salad – first time I was ever asked that! The guy next to me said, “French,” so guess what I ordered – French! I had no idea what that was all about. And when they asked how we
wanted our steak cooked, I was just as lost! The guy next to me said, “Medium,” so I got mine medium too, whatever that was. I was amazed to discover that I loved steak that wasn’t well done!

But playing in Hamilton was a tremendous experience for me in a lot of ways. The Red Wings were monitoring my progress, and there was no doubt that they considered me a bona fide prospect. I was getting a lot of attention in the local Hamilton media, and I felt I might get a chance at some point to show them what I could do at the
NHL
level. But I never thought that chance would come as quickly as it did.

In early April 1963, I got an unexpected call-up from Detroit. Floyd Smith was injured and Bruce MacGregor’s father had died, and they needed a right-winger for the last two games of the regular season, so it was time for me to make my
NHL
debut. I was instructed to report to Toronto for the first game in a weekend home-and-home series with the Maple Leafs. I was excited, naturally, but I think my father was even more so. He drove to Hamilton and picked me up, and then drove me to the game. For an hour in the car, he hammered away at me, telling me I had to make a good first impression. He told me I should go out there and nail the first guy I had a chance to hit.