Ain’t it grand when a photo of the Punch Line – Richard, Lach, and Blake…..
…..becomes a cool piece of art for an old Export cigarette ad.
I think it’s terrific.
Clarence Campbell sure was a lousy date. He takes his secretary/fiancee Phyllis King to a game at the Forum just after he suspends the Rocket for the remaining 15 games of the 1954-55 regular season plus the entire playoffs for slugging a linesman, and all hell breaks loose.
Folks in Montreal weren’t happy, and it certainly wasn’t a good time for Clarence to be impressing his squeeze. Phyllis ended up with eggs and tomatoes on her coat, tear gas smoke in her eyes and nostrils, and a couple of rubber boots and programs bouncing off her head.
Bad romance call by Clarence.
But all’s well that ends well. Phyllis and Clarence were married in November of 1955, eight months after the infamous St. Patrick’s Day Richard Riot, so obviously she forgave him for his lack of judgement.
Not the Richard judgement, the going-out-on-a-date judgement.
The following, from my collection of letters, is a rare and original Phyllis King letter from the office of her boyfriend, four years before the lousy date.
Here they are on their romantic date.
Tomas Plekanec’s second goal of the game with just 43 seconds remaining in the third period gave the Canadiens a nice 4-3 win in Toronto and put to bed that opening game jinx they’ve experienced over the past four years.
Almost as good, it sends the rich Leaf fan bastards in the expensive seats sadly scrambling to their limos, possibly depressed by the fact that for the few minutes they were actually in their seats, it didn’t end properly for them.
Forget the sometimes weak play by a few Canadiens players on a few Leafs goals. It’s not that important because it’s only game one and they won it anyway.
What pisses me off more than a few costly mistakes by my team was seeing a whole bunch of $900 seats or whatever they were at the ACC, vacant more than five minutes into the second period, and for almost the first half of the third.
Jaded and spoiled silly by free tickets and ultra fat wallets, these people mingled in the lobbies or wherever else and missed probably a third of the game. I’d hate to be sitting high in the cheap seats and seeing these people casually strolling back to their perfect seats midway through the third with the scored tied at two. No wonder it’s the worst sports franchise in North America.
Rich Leaf fan bastards, you should be ashamed of yourself.
Max Pacioretty opened the scoring for Montreal on the team’s first shot of the game when he, as a lefthanded shot, swooped in from the right side and his wrist shot somehow went between the post and Jonathan Bernier’s skate.
Shades of Rocket Richard, a lefthanded shot swooping in from the right side. The big difference was, Max’s eyes probably didn’t burn like coals. Other than that, similar.
The Leafs would tie it and then take the lead with Alexei Emelin in the box, but in the second frame, Emelin would right things by sending Tomas Plekanec in free with a beauty pass, and the score was tied.
Many Leaf fans would have missed that goal because it was only at the 4:34 mark of the period.
At 8:41 of the third period, with rich fans still talking about business and mistresses somewhere else, P.K. Subban blasted one home after a great pass from DD.
A lovely sight, the PK celebration. Hope we see plenty of it over the next eight months.
With 2:19 left in the third, Toronto would tie it when a puck bounced in off Lars Eller, but, in keeping with the weirdness, Tomas Plekanec scored the winner with 43 seconds remaining when his shot bounced in off a Toronto guy.
It wasn’t a perfect win. Maybe Tom Gilbert could’ve been stronger. Maybe a few guys need to pull up their socks. But tonight is not the night to find fault. It’s only game one and they got it done.
Canadiens outshot the Leafs 32-27. It was 11-6 for the Leafs after the first period but the boys picked up steam as the game wore on.
Next Habs game – In just a few short hours when they visit the Caps in Washington.
Couldn’t see the game, I’ve been incapacitated. I know that the Canadiens lost 4-3 in overtime but Lucy and I are in Kingston with my brother and his wife Kelly, painting the town red.
Maybe not painting the town red. But as red as you can get it when you’re an old bastard like me, dragging the other three down.
Also went to the OHL Major Junior A game between the hometown Frontenacs and visiting Belleville Bulls which saw Jordan Subban and the Bulls skate off with a convincing 4-2 win.
We sat right behind the Bulls bench, which was a fascinating experience for sure, and after Subban took a late-game penalty, his coach sent him to the dressing room like a kid to his room..
So I’ve been incapacitated. What a word. Sounds a bit like decapitated and constipated. Whatever way – incapacitated, decapitated, constipated – it’s tough to watch a game when you’re one of them.
In the meantime, because I’m incapacitated, here’s what I think is a cool photo.
It came up on eBay awhile back and I bid on it but didn’t win. Originally from the Richard family, it’s a picture of Maurice Richard at a Christmas party, looking like he’s having a fine time.
Boom Boom Geoffrion is on the far right, and although I don’t recognize the fellow in the middle, you can be assured that if he actually went through with the pouring of his drink on Rocket’s head, somebody in the house would be quickly calling for an ambulance.
Award-winning Victoria, BC artist Brandy Saturley sends along her hockey stick painting for us to enjoy. And below the painting, Brandy tells us, in her own words, her thoughts behind the piece.
And here’s Brandy Saturley –
“Earlier this year I completed two paintings paying homage to the history of the hockey stick. These two paintings reference a handful of the biggest stars to wear the number nine, apparently the most star-worn number in the NHL, as well as a current star wearing eighty-seven.
“I wanted to show the evolution of the ice hockey stick from the sticks created by the Mi’kmaq of Nova Scotia to current day. The Mi’kmaq First Nations are credited with the earliest forms of ice hockey play in Canada, as well as the creation of the first hockey sticks carved from Ironwood. Mi’kmaq First Nations were
Indigenous to Canada’s Maritime Provinces and the Gaspé Peninsula of Quebec.
“The sticks were first manufactured in Canada by Starr Manufacturing, under the brand name, Mic-Mac and were sold Internationally. Perhaps someday I will own one of these vintage sticks myself, until then they exist on canvas in my art studio.
“These pieces are painted on Renfrew hockey tape and canvas. I have been incorporating hockey tape more into my paintings as of late, I love the softening I get of the paint as it is absorbed into the primed tape. It also offers and ‘aging’ effect which gives the painting more character and texture. I am looking forward to experimenting with painting on hockey tape more as the new season is about to take the ice.
“A Mic Mac & Three Nine’s
Three Nine’s & An Eighty-Seven
Acrylic on canvas and Renfrew hockey tape, by Brandy Saturley
“Thank you Dennis-Kane.com for inquiring about these pieces and for sharing with your readers. I am currently preparing for a retrospective showing of my #ICONICCANUCK collection of paintings, some of which have been featured on this blog. An invite only grand opening will take place later this Autumn. More here – The Showroom Victoria.”
As always, thank you for your support. Happy hockey season!
It’s big stuff, this talk of the next Habs captain now that Brian Gionta has gone back to his home state.
The fact is, I don’t think anyone right now has what it takes for the role. Kind of sad, but in a few years, it’ll probably all become clear.
Of course, if someone is chosen this year, please forget that you ever saw this.
The names are tossed around. There’s Markov and Subban, and Plekanec and sometimes Max, and for some unknown reason, Brendan Gallagher keeps coming up. I don’t know why. But more about that later.
A captain’s not there just to make the fans happy that there is one. He has to have big time respect and admiration from teammates. They have to look up to him and learn from him. He has to lead by example. That’s why you never saw Howie Young or Sean Avery or Sergei Kostitsyn wear the C on any team.
A Canadiens captain needs to take Rene Bourque aside when Bourque is comatose and give him verbal smelling salts. He needs to tell P.K. to sometimes calm down, or chat now and again with Michel Therrien and politely mention that embarrassing P.K. in public might not be the coolest thing.
A leader of men. Classy, smart, and distinguished. The opposite of me.
The coaches rely on him to talk to teammates and guide and advise. He has to be great with the media and fans. He has to get along in fine fashion with the on-ice officials. Ask the zebras about the wife and kids. Explain politely that Brendan Prust’s fist into someone’s face was a natural reaction caused by the other player saying something uncalled for about the referee’s wife.
It would be great if the players voted on the wearer of the C but chances are it won’t be like that. Which could also lead to the delicate situation of the player being a bit of a brown noser, one of management’s pipelines. That sort of thing is for losers.
Of course that only happens with other teams, not the Habs. This is a team that rises above the nuttiness. There’s never nuttiness in Montreal, you know that.
Andrei Markov leads by example, that’s for sure, and the players, I think, truly respect him. He’s a hard worker, which a captain needs to be, and he’s been around since he paired with Sprague Cleghorn. But when it comes to the microphone or the PR stuff, it’s just doesn’t seem to be in him.
I know a bunch of his fellow countrymen, and most are cut from the same cloth. Reserved and not all great around anything remotely resembling public attention. Except Lucy’s son Denis in St. Petersburg, who loves to ham it up when the camera’s out. But I think he’s an anomaly.
As much as I admire Markov, he’s not completely captain’s material. At least not in my book. But you might have a different book.
Same with Tomas Plekanec. Not great in front of the camera. Kind of a quiet guy I think. Not one to take a rookie aside and tell him to lay off the booze and broads. Or maybe he does, but surely not the way a Mark Messier or the Rocket would have handled it.
And if you say that’s old time, that this is now, so what? Because leaders are leaders, whether it’s 1914 or 2014.
As much as I like Pleks, and as much as Brad Marchand dislikes him, which is a definite bonus, he, like Markov, doesn’t have the makeup to be a true captain.
P.K. Subban will be a fine captain some day. He leads by example, he struts in public, and he’s fired up to win. He’s perfect in many ways. We don’t want a laid back captain. We just had one. But P.K. still has a bit of goofiness in him, probably what a captain shouldn’t have.
As much as P.K. is liked by his teammates, do they look up to him at this point the way young players in Chicago look up to Jonathan Toews, or in Anaheim to Ryan Getzlaf, or Sidney Crosby in Pittsburgh?
Maybe after this season, after P.K. buys a few rounds, wins another Norris, and is voted Most Popular Guy on the Team by his teammates, then it’ll be time to put the C on him. He’s almost there. Just not quite.
The head scratcher for me is why Brendan Gallagher’s name comes up. As great a player he is, with a heart as big as can be, and a guy who would lead by example as a captain should, he’s still a kid. It’s obvious by the one minute interviews we see. He still talks like a kid. He was like a son to Josh Gorges and his wife when Gally rented a room at the Gorges resident.
Of course you could say Sidney Crosby roomed at Mario Lemieux’s house and was a captain at just 19, but these are two different personalities. I’m sure Avs captain Gabriel Landeskog, who was also 19 when given the C, is a man/boy too. There are guys like that. I once had a teammate when I was about 15 who had to shave every day and had this serious man strength. He looked older than the coaches.
Imagine if everyone had his same burning desire as Gallagher. But he’s not captain material because he’s a kid and I don’t understand why it keeps coming up.
Max Pacioretty might make a fine captain, but it seems he gets into areas when he has to re-screw his head back on from time to time. He’s kind of like me in this regard only I probably take longer to recover. It’s not a knock on Max for having his up and down moments. It’s about a captain not having those moments. One who could help Max along when he’s feeling out of sorts.
A captain has to be a big brother. Jean Beliveau was good like this. He knew how to handle all sorts of egos in the dressing room. Max doesn’t seem to have this in his genes, nor does Markov, Plekanec, Gallagher, and P.K., although at least it seems that way to a guy who only watches them on TV and has never been in the room except during the Bell Centre tour.
The captain situation sort of mirrors the team situation. Getting there, but just not quite. I think it’ll be Subban wearing the C in the 2015-16 campaign if he doesn’t screw it up in the meantime by making his teammates want to throttle him.
It’ll interesting to see how this captain thing unfolds. Just wish we had an obvious choice.
Yes, happy St. Jean Baptiste Day to all Quebecers. A big day. A provincial holiday. A time to party.
This is my second St. Jean Baptiste Day in Quebec, but the first doesn’t count because Lucy and I were only just arriving. It doesn’t feel any different. There’s still no party.
I’m still not exactly sure what it is. How come it’s a provincial holiday for John the Baptist? He never even came here. Although he’s a deserving fellow in many ways of course. I think more deserving than Queen Victoria, who has her big day in May.
According to Wikipedia, the first one was celebrated on the banks of the St. Lawrence way back in 1636. Close to the time the Leafs last won the Cup.
It honours the feast of John the Baptist. With all due respect to theologians, why do we say that? I had to look that up and I still don’t get it. I think June 24th is John’s birthday, which is also called the feast of.
No idea and I was an altar boy. Is the feast a celebration of John Baptist’s birth, or one of his big honkin barbecues?
Regardless, it should be August 4th. Maurice Richard Day. The Feast of Maurice Richard if you will.
Jean Baptiste’s buddy Jesus gets some big days like Christmas and Easter. Jean gets a good day at the beginning of summer.
It’s kinda like Jesus is Elton John and Jean Baptiste is Elton’s old friend and songwriter Bernie Taupin. Bernie is really important, but more in the background.
A great St. Jean Baptiste Day to all Quebecers. Even to the ones who want to separate. Peace and love from St. Hubert.
The old Orillia rink, where I put on my first team sweater when I was about six years old, is suddenly an empty lot. So is my old high school but I’m not missing that.
I always looked for number 9 because it was the Rocket’s. Often in those first few years I’d get it. Survival of the quickest to the sweater heap. And maybe number 9 was more important to me than to the others.
A rink where Ricky Ley, who became a star defenceman in the NHL and WHA, started life as a goalie and was rarely scored upon because he simply laid down across the goal and no one could raise the puck over him.
Where much of my childhood and adolescent was centered around, and where the old guy who pulled the barrel of water on wheels around to flood it always had a cigarette in his mouth.
When I was a kid having my dad tie my laces, the rink was actually quite new, the same age as me, but it seemed old, with smells I smell to this day. Great smells. Cigars, sweaty sweaters. Distinct smells. It had only been a handful of years but it wasn’t new, not by a long shot.
The demolition company charged $97,000 to level the old barn, which I thought was cheap. It had become unsafe, the roof was the problem, and I guess it’s never good to sit in an arena watching a game and hoping the roof doesn’t fall on your head.
Developers had stayed away from $649,000 asking price because of the added cost of demolishing. But it was smack dab in the heart of Orillia where $96,000 tacked onto the land price shouldn’t be all that outlandish. I don’t know. Is it?
They turned the Montreal Forum into a cinema, coffee shop, liquor store and bank mall. Now I lose my second rink and it only cost $97,000.
It’s where my winters were spent. Where I went public skating. Where I took a puck in the mouth which broke two teeth, when I was sitting in the stands.
Where I was a smallish yet shifty right winger for Byers Bulldozers bantam and midget all-star teams, and where it was a badge of honor to get lots of concussions, long before we knew what a bummer a concussion could actually be.
Hey! I’m going to blame all my teenage and adult poor decisions on my concussions suffered at the old rink when I was kid! This is the best excuse I’ve ever come up with!
Happy Father’s Day to fathers. Hope your kids phone you today. Or at least email you. Anything really.
Also hope you don’t mind if I make this my Sunday post. More pages from my old scrapbook. I’m in Port Hope at the moment.
The huge face of the Rocket you see 5 pictures down is from an old Vitalis advertising sign in the barbershop window in Orillia which the barber gave to me. It’s made of thick cardboard and because of its thickness, it was the beginning of the pages starting to come apart.