star trek

Born in Montreal on a Tuesday of this same date in 1965, Mario Lemieux is 56 today, so all due hullabaloo to him. He was a callow 19 in the photograph here, which dates to September of 1985, when La Presse photographer Paul-Henri Talbot caught his departure from his family’s home in Ville-Émard, in the west end of Montreal. “It was this morning at the crack of 7 a.m. that Mario Lemieux took the road to Pittsburgh, where training camp will begin in a few days,” a caption reported. He was driving, so the way would be long: 17 hours, according to La Presse.

That fall, Lemieux already had an NHL season under his belt. As a rookie centreman for the Penguins, he’d finished the 1984-85 campaign with 43 goals and 100 points to his credit, along with a Calder Trophy as the league’s top rookie to show for it. When Pittsburgh opened its camp a few days later on the ice of the Mount Lebanon, Pennsylvania, Recreation Centre, the local Post-Gazette noted that for all his offensive fireworks, Lemieux had work to do on his defensive skills.

“I’ll try to work more this season on playing both ways,” Lemieux said, “but my job here is to score goals and get as many points as I can for the team.” He did his duty, piling up 48 goals by the time that season was over, and 141 points, second only to a 25-year-old Wayne Gretzky and his record-breaking heap of 215 points.

(Image: Paul-Henri Talbot, La Presse)

canadiennes errants

Autumn’s in the air, and on the calendar, which means, in Canada and other ice-minded jurisdictions, pucks are dropping across the land along with all the leaves. NHL teams this week started their stretching and scrimmaging; tomorrow the league’s exhibition schedule gets underway. NHL training camps of eras past have featured regularly here (and here) at Puckstruck; today, a visit with Les Canadiennes of the Montreal and District Ladies Hockey League as they do their pre-season limbering-up with a trainer at a Montreal gym in November of 1937.

There were four teams in that loop that season, Maroons, Royal, and North End Athletic taking the ice with and against Les Canadiennes, whose coach and GM was a man by the name of Arthur Perreault. I don’t have much more information to offer than that — for one thing, the images above and below come out of the archives without captions to identify the players by, I’m sorry to say. Some of them surely feature in the last image included here, which dates to 1940, and shows Perreault in back: goaltender Germaine Blais, for instance, who served as team captain for the ’37-38 season. A year later, Les Canadiennes did drop (after seven seasons) its affiliation with Montreal’s famous NHL Canadiens, as well as their bleu-blanc-et-rouge colour scheme in favour of a new name, 7 Up, paying tribute to a mighty American soft-drink. The new sponsor featured in the logo on the team’s sweaters, you’ll note, as well as in a new colour scheme, green-and-white.

 

boulevard of unbroken dreams

Halte là, halte là, halte là, les Canadiens, sont là. Les Canadiens, les Canadiens sont là! Forget all your last-night troubles, Montreal fans, and join me in the streets of 1978 when, on a Friday of this date, another edition of the team was celebrating a 21st Stanley Cup championship with a few hundred thousand of their closest fans. 

“You never get tired of winning,” Canadiens captain Yvan Cournoyer mused on that day. “Especially when you face a reception like the one we’re getting. Each parade is better than the one before.” Cournoyer, incredibly, was processing through the streets of Montreal for the ninth time with the Cup. That’s him here, above, alongside Serge Savard outside the Forum; below, they ride through Montreal with a crew of fans and the coveted Cup.

(Top image: Réjean Martel, Archives de la Ville de Montréal; below, BAnQ Vieux-Montréal)

win column

“When the parade was held along the usual route (on Ste-Catherine St., heading east from the Forum), Westmount matrons, wandering hippies, downtown businessmen and fiery separatists were all linked, for one sun-splashed May afternoon, in cheering on their heroes, who were notable for their pallid winter complexions and the welts and bruises visible on their faces, necks and forearms.”

That’s Jack Todd, writing in Montreal’s Gazette earlier this week about the Montreal Canadiens and the unlikely Stanley Cup they won in May of 1971. Do me a favour (and yourself, too), and cast a cursor over to his accounting of how young Ken Dryden and Jean Béliveau, older, rustled up another Cup championship

Canadiens wrapped up the series on May 18, 1971, when they beat the Black Hawks 3-2 at Chicago Stadium to take the Cup in seven games. The following day, another Wednesday of this very date, the happy Habs took to the streets of Montreal to greet some 500,000 of their (also happy) fans. Above, that’s a fine-looking Frank Mahovlich en route that day; below are his fellow wingers John Ferguson and brother Peter. 

(Images: Archives de la Ville de Montréal, VM94-Ed041-071, VM94-Ed041-033)

another night at the office

In The Soup: A tomato-besmutched Clarence Campbell departs his Forum seat on the night of March 17, 1955, in the early going of Montreal’s riot.

Later, Clarence Campbell was asked what he would have done differently if he’d known a riot was in the offing. “I wasn’t frightened, if that’s what you mean,” was his response. “I think, in the interest of everybody, if I had known what was going to happen, the thing then to have done would have been to call the whole thing off.” As it was, let history show that on a Thursday of this date in 1955, Montreal’s game against the Detroit Red Wings went ahead a day after the NHL president suspended Canadiens’ superstar Maurice Richard for the end of the regular season and the playoffs to follow.

During the first period, unhappy Habs fans accosted Campbell in his Forum seat, yelling insults and bombarding him with (as Montreal GM Frank Selke remembered) According to Frank Selke: “bad fruit, eggs, and bags full of water.” Worse followed: Andre Robinson, 21, Rue St. Henri squeezed a tomato over Campbell’s head. (He was charged with assault.) Another young bravo held out his hand for a shake: when Campbell extended his hand, he got a slap in the face. At about that same time, someone tossed what Montreal police later described as “a U.S. Army type tear-gas bomb.” The Toronto Daily Star reported: “Campbell, after being punched in the face, was buried under an avalanche of rubbers, peanuts, programs, eggs, tomatoes, and pennies.” The Forum organist played “My Heart Cries For You.”

The game was called off soon after that, forfeited to Detroit, who’d been leading 4-1.

Recalling his service as a soldier with the Canadian Army in the Second World War, Campbell said, “I’ve seen lots of panics, but never anything like this.” Soon enough, of course, the riot spilled out into the streets of Montreal. Cars burned, looters sacked stores.

“Let us hope the outside world has been sufficiently distracted by the H-bomb and the Yalta papers, during the last couple of weeks,” the Star’s editorial page opined next day from Toronto, “to keep it from taking a close look at Canada. Otherwise the idea might have got abroad that this is a nation of hicks and hooligans.”

farewell the forum

Castle On Cabot Square: An architectural rendering of the Forum’s 1960s-era renovation.

It was 25 years ago, on a Monday of this date in 1996, that Montreal’s Canadiens took a final turn on the ice of the famous Forum. They beat the Dallas Stars by a score of 4-1, for the record, though the game itself was truly the undercard for the pre- and post-game ceremonies by which Canadiens bade farewell to the arena that was their home for 72 years and some 3,500 games. A crowd of former Canadiens was on hand that night, including 20 Hall-of-Famers. Guy Lafleur and Jean Béliveau were on hand for the game’s ceremonial opening face-off, and when Maurice Richard joined them at centre ice, the crowd stood and cheered for ten glorious minutes.

I was there that night, high up at the north end, Section 601, with the overflow press, near where they used to keep the ghosts. I won’t say that I was there under false pretenses, though it’s true that I may have stretched those same pretenses to accommodate my powerful need to witness and distill the history unfolding … I mean, Émile Bouchard was out there on the ice, for Gump Worsley’s sake — and of course Gump was there, too. Both Butches Bouchard, in fact, father and son!! Mahovliches, major and minor! Lach and Reardon and Moore, Henri Richard, Savard and Lapointe, Ferguson, Shutt, Dryden, Cournoyer! It was unbelievable.

I was freelancing for The Financial Post in those years, reporting for the paper’s arts section from several non-fiscal sectors — that is, I wrote book and movie reviews, travel features. The Post didn’t need me covering a hockey game, even a historic one, but I was able to convince my editor that the auction on the day after that Forum finale was enough of a business story to demand my presence. The Canadiens didn’t mind accommodating me — or if they did, they didn’t mention it. (The feature I filed is here.)

Ezra Soiferman was at the Forum that night, too, and he was toiling harder than I was. It may be that we passed one another in the halls as the old arena’s time as the home of the Habs expired; it’s possible. A Montreal filmmaker and photographer, he attended the game as a guest of Forum anthem-singer André Ouellet.

Soiferman took some 250 images as he wandered the arena that night. It wasn’t until 2016 that he collected some of them into a book, which he published privately to commemorate the 20th anniversary of Canadiens’ departure for the Molson (now Bell) Centre. Other than the cover image, below, and a photo of a Guy Lafleur greeting Ouellet, there’s nary a hockey player in it: this particular album is filled with last glimpses of fans and ushers, custodians and purveyors of chiens chauds, security guards, corridors, stairwells, seats, doorways, escalators, grey girders, and — yes — urinals. It’s an odd, honest, altogether charming chronicle of a venerable old arena on one night at the end of an era.

4thought

Le Gros Bill: The inimitable Jean Béliveau died six years ago today, on a Tuesday of this date in 2014. He was 83. “Nobody will deny,” the novelist and Béliveau biographer Hugh Hood wrote in 1970, “that for sheer beauty of style, Jean is the greatest of them all — and not just on the ice, either.” Here he is on Wednesday, May 19, 1971, riding through happy Montreal and the crowd, said to be 500,000-strong, that rejoiced in the tenth and final Stanley Cup of his NHL career. (Image: Archives de la Ville de Montréal, VM94-Ed041-091)

smoke gets in your ice

Flash Frozen: Details are few on this magnificent archival image, but my guess is that’s Montreal Maroons forward Paul Runge we’re seeing posing here on picture day. His seven NHL seasons included campaigns with Boston and Canadiens along with two stints with Montreal’s long-lost other team. I’d venture that we’re looking at Runge’s second go-round with the team, when he was in his later 20s, 1936 to 1938, a period that includes the final Maroons’ season in the NHL before they suspended play for good. And the photographer at his camera, under his cloud of flash powder? He’s unidentified, too, as is  the photographer of the photographer and his subject. Update: @hockeytician suggests that the man in the hat is probably Montreal photographer James Rice. I think that’s probably right. (Image: Bibliothèque et Archives Nationales du Québec)

famous faux: commemorating rocket richard’s 500

As It Happened: On the ice in 1957, Maurice Richard scored his 500th NHL goal with a slapshot, from 15 feet out, but by the time he and Chicago goaltender Glenn Hall were immortalized in wax in 1965, the Rocket had migrated into Hall’s crease.

The building was in a bedlam the moment the red light flashed. The crowd stood up, clapping hands and roaring acclaim. Programs were showered don on the ice. The Rocket’s teammates on the bench dropped sticks and gloves and stood up an applauded. The organ played “Il A Gagne Ses Epaulettes.” The Rocket himself leaped high in the air and landed on Jean Béliveau, who had fed him the pass that set up the goal.

* Dink Carroll, The Gazette, October 21, 1957

It was on a Saturday of this date in 1957 that Maurice Richard became the first player in NHL history to score 500 goals. The Chicago Black Hawks were in at the Montreal Forum that night, and the rink was packed with 14, 405 fans, as the biggest — and most expectant — crowd of the young season awaited the Rocket’s record-breaking goal.

Fifteen minutes and 52 seconds into the first period was when Dickie Moore passed to Béliveau’s at the side of the Chicago net and he found Richard in the slot, about 15 feet out. The Rocket beat Chicago goaltender Glenn Hall with a slapshot; Carroll said it whizzed. Once the bedlam subsided, Montreal went on to beat Chicago 3-1.

“That mark of 500 threatens to stand up as long as the Babe’s record of 60 home runs in a single season,” Carroll would venture in his Gazettedispatch. Ruth’s monument was, by then, 30 years old, and had another four years to run before Roger Maris got around to hitting his 61. Carroll was just a little off: Gordie Howe scored his 500th NHL in March of 1962,  just over six months after Maris did his record-breaking deed.

Still, Richard was first, and for that — and because he was the Rocket, and this was Montreal — one of his rewards was to be immortalized in wax. This was later, 1965, when Tussaud’s Ville Marie Wax Museum opened at the downtown corner of Ste. Catherine West and Drummond, 12 blocks or so from the Forum. Glenn Hall was rewarded, too, as a supporting actor, though for him it may have felt more like penance, all the more so if he ever saw the display, above, as it would later appear to paying customers.

Richard himself dropped by the Museum before it opened to check himself out. He’d donated the uniform and skates his doppelganger; I don’t know where Hall’s gear came from. Fashioned in London from photographs by Josephine Tussaud, a descendant of the original Madame, waxy Richard got some final adjustments before meeting the public. Joining him and Hall  in the museum were scenes featuring an array of the faux and famous, including  Abraham Lincoln (at his assassination), Jesus (partaking of the Last Supper), Joan of Arc (at the stake), and Brigitte Bardot (just out of the shower).

Model Citizen: Another, modern-day waxen Richard, this one from the Musée Grévin Montréal, in the Centre Eaton in the city’s downtown, wherein an ersatz Guy Lafleur, Mario Lemieux, and Sidney Crosby keep company with Jacques Cartier, Céline Dion, and David Bowie.

party like it’s 1993

Traffic Jam: The Montreal Canadiens show how its done in a non-pandemic year, parading their 1993 Stanley Cup with hometown fans in June of that year. (Image: Archives de la Ville de Montréal, VM94-1993-0307)

Sixty-five days after the NHL isolated 24 teams in Canada to see whether it could finish its 2019-20 season, the league’s numbers were impressive: 130 games played, 33,394 COVID-19 tests administered, 0 positive results, 1 Stanley Cup awarded.

The Tampa Bay Lightning were pleased to accept the latter a week ago, on September 28, from NHL commissioner Gary Bettman. With Cup in hand, the Lightning were quick to burst the NHL’s bubble, arriving in Tampa the next day, and quickly arranging to share their championship and the storied Cup with Lightning fans at a September 30 boat parade (the first in Stanley Cup history) and a (sort of socially distanced) stadium rally. For The New York Times, I wrote about the revelry, and where it might lead from here: it’s online here, and in the paper later this week.

rocket launch

Sign Here: Franklin Arbuckle’s painting of a besieged Maurice Richard adorned the cover of Maclean’s magazine the week of March 28, 1959.

August 4 was a Thursday in 1921, and the weather was fine: the morning edition of Montreal’s La Patrie promised that, despite some rain in Alberta and Saskatchewan, “il fait généralement beau et modérément chaud par tout le Dominion.”

The national news that summer’s day was of forest fires on the rampage near Dawson City in the Yukon, and also around Springhill Mines, Nova Scotia. From Toronto’s Don Jail came word of the hanging, on Wednesday, of two men, named Hotrum and McFadden, who’d been convicted of shooting a drugstore-owner, name of Sabine, they’d been robbing. “It was stated,” the Gazette reported, “that Hotrum smiled as he left the death cell.”

Closer to home, on the Montreal waterfront, vessels tied up included the Minnedosa, the Cornishman, and the Canadian Seigneur; the shipping news disclosed that others, includingthe Mina Brea, the Bosworth, and the Canadian Commander, were headed into harbour.

An open-air dance was on the cards that week, in the Summer Garden, the Jardin d’Été, at the corner of Sherbrooke and Saint-Laurent. At the pictures, the New Grand was featuring David Powell in Appearances, while the Belmont had Marie Doro starring in Midnight Gambols.

In foreign news, the world was reeling from the shock of the death in Naples on August 2 of Italian operatic tenor Enrico Caruso, at just 48. Others headlines brought tidings from Dublin, where Éamon de Valera was taking steps to declare himself President of the Republic.

In London, the seventh anniversary of Britain’s declaration of war on Germany was noted but — for the first time since 1918 — not observed with any ceremony.

From Liverpool came news that Lord Byng of Vimy and Lady Byng were aboard the Empress of France, setting sail for Canada so that he could take up his duties as the new governor-general. The couple, along with their beloved spaniel, Pax, was expected to arrive in Quebec on August 11, where Prime Minister Arthur Meighen would greet them before the couple journeyed on to Ottawa the following day.

Lord Byng, of course, had commanded the Canadian Corps through the Vimy campaign of 1917. “A very simple living man, modest and retiring,” the press was reporting that week. “He has also a passion for tree-felling.”

As for Lady Byng, she had a new novel due out in the fall, Barriers, that McClelland & Stewart would be publishing. The winter ahead would also make her a hockey fan. Introduced to the defending Stanley Cup champion Ottawa Senators in December, she was soon taking a regular seat in the vice-regal box at Dey’s Arena, developing a devotion to the team, even as she came to wish that the game itself might conduct itself in a more gentlemanly way. With that in mind, before her husband’s tenure came to an end in 1926, she’d donate the trophy that bears her name.

Not noted in any Montreal newspaper columns that eventful week in 1921: the birth of a baby in Montreal’s east end on this day, all those 99 years ago, a first son for a young carpenter named Onésime Richard and his wife, Alice.

Joseph Henri Maurice was what they’d call their boy, known as Maurice, mostly, in his earliest years. Later, of course, when the world saw him on skates, and the intensity with he roared towards the goal with the puck on his stick, he was simply the Rocket.

big moe

Ken Mosdell made his name in the NHL of he late 1940s as a defensive centreman, though later he blossomed into a bit of a goalscorer. Either way, his value to the Montreal Canadiens was never in doubt. Born in Montreal on a Thursday of this date in 1922, Mosdell played 15 NHL seasons, most of them with Canadiens, though he skated for the Brooklyn Americans, too, and the Chicago Black Hawks. He won four Stanley Cups with Montreal. In 1953-54, he was the centre voted to the NHL’s First All-Star Team, alongside Detroit wingers Gordie Howe and Ted Lindsay. Big Moe, his teammates called him in Montreal, where he was honoured at the Forum for his service on Ken Mosdell Night in 1955. Ahead of a game against the New York Rangers, teammate Elmer Lach (he was out of the line-up) did a turn around the ice in a gleaming new Oldsmobile 98 before handing Mosdell the keys. Canadiens won the game 10-2, with Boom-Boom Geoffrion scoring five goals. Mosdell couldn’t buy so much as an assist on the night. He died in 2006 at the age of 83.