paul henderson: born on the ice (or close enough)

Born on a Thursday of this date in 1943, Paul Henderson — do we even need to say it? — scored the end-of-September Game-Eight goal that decided the 1972 Summit Series. Remarkably, he also notched the winning goals in the two previous games in Moscow, including the one depicted here. The disappointed goaltender is, of course, Vladislav Tretiak; the floundering defenceman, number 6, is Valery Vasiliev.

On the subject of his hometown, Henderson, who’s 77 today, is most often attached to Lucknow, Ontario, near the Lake Huron shore. He wasn’t born there, though. Just where he did debut back in ’43 is … well, let’s just say the folk tale of his mother’s having given birth out on the midwinter ice of Lake Huron is a tantalizing one if not entirely likely.

Three different Henderson memoirs offer three slightly different versions of how Henderson’s birth went down. The Fans Go Wild: Paul Henderson’s Miracle was an authorized biography that appeared in 1973, hot on the heels of Henderson’s Soviet heroics. As author John Gault tells it, the fact that a blizzard of historic proportions had left western Ontario snowed under didn’t stop a pregnant Evelyn Henderson (“young and healthy and youthfully silly”) from hiking out 5 kilometres from her in-laws’ farm and back on January 27.

Her husband, Garnet, was overseas, serving with the Canadian Army. When labour pains began that night, Evelyn’s in-laws hitched up horses to a sleigh to make the dash for the hospital at Kincardine, 16 kilometres away. “At the bottom of the second-to-last hill, at a point where she could see the lights of the hospital in the first light of dawn, she began to give birth,” Gault writes. “Actually, Paul’s grandparents were not called upon to make delivery because they reached the hospital before the boy was completely born.”

By 1997, Henderson was telling his own story, with Mike Leonetti’s help. Shooting For Glory mentions a journey across frozen Lake Huron that didn’t appear in Gault’s telling, with the arrival at Kincardine’s hospital somewhat amended: “About 1,000 yards from the front door my mother gave birth, and when they finally got me into the hospital, I had started to turn blue.”

Roger Lajoie shaped Henderson’s 2012 memoir, The Goal of My Life, which sticks with the colourful outdoor birth over the indoor: “Mom gave birth to me on the sleigh before we made it to the hospital, and by the time they finally arrived, I had started to turn blue. Quite the first day of my life, to be sure, but I made it.”

(Image:  Frank Lennon/Library and Archives Canada/4169297)

 

we all squeezed the stick and we all pulled the trigger

It’s a leaping Paul Henderson who lives in the national imagination, a Henderson launched by relief and joy at having put one last decisive puck past Vladislav Tretiak — if Yvan Cournoyer hadn’t been there to tether him, Canada’s 1972 goalscoring hero might have boosted up and out Luzhniki Ice Palace and into orbit. Henderson, who’s turning 76 today, is in Ottawa this very morning, where he’s being received and saluted in the brand-new temporary West-Block House of Commons. There will be talk there, count on it, of Henderson’s game-winning goals in Moscow, especially that last one; the calls for Henderson to be admitted to the Hockey Hall of Fame will be front and centre, too, no doubt, reviving one of hockey’s enduring debates: is Henderson due, or no? Here, above, we’ll cast back to 1968, before Henderson had scored any goals in the Soviet Union. He was a 25-year-old winger when he arrived in Toronto that March as part of the trade that sent Frank Mahovlich to the Detroit Red Wings. Toronto GM Punch Imlach was glad to have him: “a fine young player,” he rated Henderson, “just reaching his peak.”

 

cultivar has scored for canada

planted paulShips sailed our coasts this year in celebration of Canada’s 150 years of Confederation, and there were concerts on Parliament Hill. There were discussions, too, of whether the fanfare needed more context, given this country’s thousands of years of Indigenous history. Amid all this, maybe you missed the big horticultural tribute that’s ongoing in a park in Quebec not far from Ottawa. MosaïCanada 150/Gatineau 2017 features 33 topiary wonders representating Canadian icons and animals and cultural touchstones, including musk ox and polar bear, a lumberjack, and a mounted RCMP officer. Paul Henderson’s there, too, with Yvan Cournoyer by his side to embrace him in commemoration of that famous Moscow goal that ended the Summit Series with the Soviets on this day in 1972.

MosaïCanada 150 continues until October 15 at Parc Jacques-Cartier, in Gatineau, Quebec, just over the bridge from Ottawa, near the Canadian Museum of History. For more information, there’s a website.

(Image: Dawn Smith)

 

 

да да канада

Waving The Flag: On this day in 1972 — well, you know: Moscow, Paul Henderson, yadda + yadda + yadda. “Never In Doubt!” was the headline The Toronto Sun postered across the front page of their souvenir edition a couple of days later, as in Canada was always going to whomp the Soviets, although of course, in truth — well, that’s something else you already know, too, as we all do, 45 years later. How could we forget? Above, some of the 3,000 fans who followed Team Canada to Moscow in 1972 show their Game-Eight glee at the Luzhniki Ice Palace on that long-ago September 28. (Image: Frank Lennon / Library and Archives Canada, e010933351)

 

a good game of growl

September’s calendar in 1972 made a Friday of September 22, just like ours today. Back then, Canadians and Soviets were playing hockey again after a two-week hiatus. Maybe you remember: the upstart Communists had dominated the Canadian leg of the eight-game series, winning two, losing one, tying another. Home in Moscow, they scored five third-period goals in a 5-4 win at the Luzhniki Palace of Sports.

As many as 3,000 Canadians had travelled with the team to cheer them in Moscow. If you were back home watching in the rec room, you might have had in hand Hockey Canada’s Official Home TV Program. The 16-page brochure included handy summaries, line-ups, and stats from the series to date, along with uplifting messages from the likes of NHLPA executive director Alan Eagleson and Team Canada coach Harry Sinden. “I’ll say this,” the latter assured fans on their couches: “I have complete confidence in the ability and determination of our players. I firmly believe they are the finest team ever assembled in the world. As we open the series in Moscow, I sincerely hope all Canadians share this confidence with me.”

Broadcasters also weighed in (above) on what they saw for the final four games. Johnny Esaw would, of course, be disappointed along all the rest of Canada: Bobby Orr wasn’t ready for any action, let alone lots of. Brian McFarlane got it just about right: Canada’s final edge could hardly have been sliced slighter. Most interesting, though, is Howie Meeker having his tetchy say. Nothing in here about winning. Ever the teacher, he just hoped for a Team Canada that would be returning home smarter about how to play the game we so desperately like to claim for our own. Hard to say, still, 45 years later, whether he got his wish.

update: the defenceman formerly known as yuri lyapkin

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Net Presence: Paul Henderson, alone in front, sets himself up to leap into Yvan Cournoyer’s arms, moments later. (Photo: Frank Lennon, Library and Archives Canada, e010933341)

Cournoyer took a shot. The defenceman fell over, Lyapkin. And the — Cournoyer has it on that wing. Here’s a shot! Henderson made a wild stab for it, and fell. Here’s another shot! Right in front! Score! Henderson has scored for Canada!

• Foster Hewitt narrates Paul Henderson’s winning goal from Moscow, September 28, 1972

Forty-four years ago, defenceman Yuri Lyapkin had the distinction of being the last Soviet mentioned by Foster Hewitt on the broadcast from Moscow before Paul Henderson scored the goal that won the Summit Series.

All three men are back on Canadian TV this week in Scotiabank’s new “Hockey Dreams” spot — it’s just that Lyapkin is wearing somebody else’s bearded face, now.

If you’ve been watching as hockey’s World Cup winds down, “Hockey Dreams” has been running in constant rotation when the puck’s not in play on CBC’s broadcast. As noted herebefore, the Soviet defenders depicted in Frank Lennon’s iconic Paul Henderson photo from 1972 have been … well, disguised. Richard Bendell, author of the definitive book on the Summit Series, was actually on this first, a week ago. He, too, wondered: why? What did Yuri Lyapkin, Valery Vasiliev, and Vladimir Shadrin do to deserve to have their numbers scrubbed and faces switched out all these years later on Canadian TV?

Probably not a matter of punishing the Russians, right? More likely a question of clearances — of securing permissions from those in the original photograph? That’s been a conjectured consensus. Patrick Conway of Conway’s Russian Hockey Blog recalled the case of a Swedish stamp depicting Peter Forsberg’s famous Olympic goal on Corey Hirsh; Lloyd Davis, hockey historian and editor extraordinaire, provided the link.

I e-mailed Joseph Bonnici, executive creative director at Bensimon Byrne, the Toronto agency, behind “Hockey Dreams.” (Marketing Magazine has the background on Scotiabank’s World Cup campaign here.)

“Correct,” Bonnici replied today, “it is to do with permissions.”

Toronto Star photographer Frank Lennon died in 2006, so the agency would have been working with his estate. As well as securing rights to Lennon’s image, Bonnici continued, Bensimon Byrne pursued “the rights of each of the individual players in the photo. We then sought to get individual approvals from visible players, and for players that we could not locate, we chose to alter the image to protect their individual likeness. Once this altering was done, the image was resubmitted to the rights holder, who approved it for Scotiabank’s commercial use.”

So there it is. Not entirely clear at this late hour is just whose faces those are replacing those of the crestfallen Soviets. I followed up to ask that. If I get an answer, I’ll share it.