if there’s a goal that everyone remembers, it was back in old seventy-two

hip_2013_jersey

Hard news this week about Gord Downie, Kingston’s own poet, songwriter, singer, dancer, Great Canadian. The Tragically Hip woke the country up early Tuesday morning with the startling announcement of Downie’s terminal cancer; for the rest of the week, the country I inhabit tried to settle itself within the shock and the sorrow, even as we were celebrating the genius of the man, his words, his music.

Downie’s love of hockey is no secret. It’s there in the songs, “Fireworks” and “Fifty-Misssion Cap,” “The Lonely End of the Rink.” For the fullest account of Downie attachments to the game, you’re advised to read the fond chapter TSN’s Bob Mackenzie included in his 2014 book Hockey Confidential, which he reprinted (here) this week.

Downie has long been a devoted goaltender of park and pick-up rinks, though he told a Toronto magazine in 2010 that he’d pretty much hung up the blocker.

“I lived across from the rink, and I’d come out and the kids would go nuts, like the ice cream man had shown up. That winter, toward the end, I realized guys were coming in and firing it high on me, doing all kinds of stuff. There were little kids around, all ages. I was worried they’d blister one at me… I’m sort of retired altogether.”

In 2005, he auditioned for the CBC mini-series Canada Russia ’72, showing up at Fredericton’s Aitken Centre in vintage pads to bid for the part of Ken Dryden. A reporter who sought out number 29 for comment heard him say he’d be honoured to have Downie wear his mask.

“I like Gord,” Dryden said. “I love the Hip and he’s just a really interesting guy. The only thing I recall that might be a problem for him is that I know he’s a Boston Bruins fan.”

It’s true —before he lost out on the Dryden role to actor Gabriel Hogan, Downie even intimated that he’d be just as happy to play Canada’s third (non-playing) Summit Series goalie, Boston’s Eddie Johnston.

Downie talked about the roots of his love of Bruins in a spritely 2009 conversation with a friend, novelist Joseph Boyden. Maclean’s has resurrected it, this way. It’s a marvellous thing in its entirety, and includes this hockey-talking:

Q: Many of us know you as singer, a poet, and even an actor. But a championship hockey goalie?

A: When I was a kid, Bantam age, our team, Ernestown, went all the way to the provincial “B” championship. We had to beat four teams in four series to get there. The crowds were huge, the stakes brutal and crushing. I was the goalie. Teen hero or teen goat. It teaches you things.

Q: Was [producer] Bob Rock your coach?

A: I wish. He knows what to say to a goalie. And goalies are strange. You do want to play but there’s also a part of you that kinda hopes a compressor will blow or that there’ll be too much snow on the roof and part of it will cave in and they’ll have to cancel the game.

Q: You’re a big fan of the Boston Bruins. This could be considered a travesty, even treason with many Canadians.

A: I have loved them since the early ’70s. All of my siblings were big Bruins fans. It was a certain type who liked the Bruins. They were known as a “blue-collar” team. They seemed to me like an outlaw team. You were a bit of an outlaw if you liked the Bruins.

Q: Why not the Leafs?

A: My grandfather liked the Leafs. Because of him I always carried — and still do — a place in my heart for the Leafs — albeit a small place. I should mention, also, that Harry Sinden and his wife, Eleanor, are my godparents.

Q: The Harry Sinden, godlike Bruins head coach and coach of Team Canada in the famed 1972 Summit Series against the U.S.S.R.?

A: I didn’t like to make a big deal of it when I was a kid. But I was very proud of our connection and I still am. My brothers and me defended every move he made, and loved the Bruins fiercely, spiritually, as any number of our friends will painfully attest to.

the bull and bill cook

Alex Galchenyuk scored early in overtime tonight as the Montreal Canadiens slipped past the New York Rangers 3-2, mere moments after Don Cherry got his hometown history mixed up.

New York holds a 2-1 series in the Eastern Conference final. The two teams meet again on Sunday night.

The history lesson came in the intermission between the third period and overtime when Hockey Night in Canada’s Ron MacLean cornered Cherry with a quick tribute to the earliest 1920s-era Rangers, including Frank Boucher and brothers Bill and Bun Cook, who (cue the Coach) lived for long years in Cherry’s beloved Kingston, Ontario.

MacLean didn’t want Cherry to tell us all how the elder Cook, Bill, died — that’s what he said. So Cherry did tell: Cook was a farmer and one of his big bulls crushed him against a gate.

It’s a story Cherry has told before. For example, in 1997 in a selfless Q-and-A with Hamilton Spectator readers:

Q. Whom do you consider is the best player from Kingston, Ont.?

— Rick McCarthy, Vancouver

A. We’ve had a lot of great players come from there, including myself, Wayne Cashman, Kenny Linseman, Jim Dorey, Rick Smith, Doug Gilmour, Kirk Muller.

But the best, from what I’m told, was Bill Cook, a player for the New York Rangers back in the 1930s. He was a Hall of Famer, a big tough player who could skate like the wind and score. He was an all- star and a Stanley Cup winner.

Unfortunately, a sad thing happened to Bill. He lived to be about 85, and still worked his farm there. He had a monster Holstein bull. People kept telling him, “That bull is too mean.” The bull killed him, caught him between a gate and a fencepost.

It was a sad way for Bill to go out, but I would have to say he’s the best one ever from Kingston.

In fact, Cook died in Kingston at the age of 89, in 1986, of cancer.

He did have a bad experience with one of his bulls, but that was in the spring of 1952, not long after he was elected to the Hockey Hall of Fame. It happened like this:

cook bull