there will be bears: a short history of bruin mascots

Bear With It: The Bruins’ distinctly mouse-looking mascot roams Boston Garden on the Thursday night of April 9, 1970, as the home team beat the New York Rangers 5-3 in a Stanley Cup quarter-final match-up. (Image: Frank O’Brien/Boston Globe via Getty Images)

A black cat followed Art Ross into his hotel room one Halloween but no, the coach and manager of the Boston Bruins wasn’t concerned that his luck was on the wane. Ross doesn’t seem have been even slightly spooked. In fact, he was all for claiming the cat for the Bruins cause, as a mascot.

This was in Saint John, New Brunswick, in October of 1934, when the Bruins were in town for the pre-season training camp. The hotel was the Admiral Beatty. The Ottawa Journal reported that the Bruins were trying to find the cat’s owner to secure permission to ship it back to Boston. That was a courtesy, really: the team fully intended on taking it. “Anyone proving ownership will have all his expenses paid to Boston to see the Bruins perform in the National Hockey league playdowns,” the Journal said, “if they reach that stage with the help of their new mascot.”

The Bruins had a great year, as it turned out, though whether it was cat-inspired or not is hard to confirm. At the end of the regular season, Boston finished first in the NHL’s four-team American Division standings, earning a bye into the playoff semi-finals. There they ran into the Toronto Maple Leafs, who’d topped the Canadian Division. (They topped the Bruins, too, to get to the Stanley Cup finals, where the Montreal Maroons topped them.)

I don’t know what happened to the cat from the Maritimes; Boston’s 1934 mascot sank out of sight before reaching Boston, if reach it he did.

What were the Bruins doing dabbling in felines? Shouldn’t a team that wears the bear and has, from its start in 1924, embraced a grizzly spirit, have been looking to ursine options to fill the role of mascot?

Boston Brown: The original Bruin, as it appeared on the team’s first sweater in 1924.

Short answer: the cat was anomalous, a one-off. Throughout Boston’s history, when it comes to mascots, the Bruins have mostly stayed true to their own, even if only the earliest of their bears was an authentic (as in live) animal. Over the course of their 99 NHL years, most of the bears the Bruins have trotted out to represent themselves have been either dead or faux.

Just a year before the cat caught Ross’ eye in New Brunswick, Boston had a bear on staff — or, at least, on site, at Boston Garden. This would seem to have been their first, arriving on the scene almost a decade after the team made its debut in the NHL. It was December of 1933, newspapers noted that a young bear, seven months old, had made his way south from Nashua, just up over the New Hampshire line. Not on his own. He’d been caught there, I guess, by someone named Robert Moore, who donated him to the Bruins. A black bear, apparently; it’s not entirely clear whether he (or she) was male or female.

Years later, in 1954, Art Ross remembered this, though I think he mixed up his dates: he thought it was 1928 that the bear arrived, the year the Boston Garden opened. “Somebody gave us a bear cub,” he told a Boston Herald reporter, “and Billy Banks used to show him off on a big chain but the bear grew nasty after a year or two and we gave him to a zoo.”

Threadworn: This hard-living bruin appeared on the cover of a team yearbook published for the 1927-28 season.

I haven’t seen any such nastiness otherwise documented. Lucky B does seem to have liked to roam, and that may have been a factor in his/her retirement. She — let’s go with that — made her NHL debut on a Tuesday night around this time of year at the Garden as the Bruins hosted the Montreal Canadiens.

It was an auspicious night in the United States: December 5, 1933 was also the night that Prohibition was repealed after 13 dry American years. I don’t think they’ve serving spirits at the Garden, but Lucky Bruin did make her debut, “cavorting on the ice unmindful of the crowd of 12,000.” NHL President Frank Calder was on hand, and it’s possible that he could have been involved in the pre-game ceremony during which Robert Moore handed over Lucky Bruin to Bruins’ captain Marty Barry with (as the Boston Globe said) “due formalities.”

Boston won that game, 5-2. Their bear went quiet for a bit, or at least unreported. It was the end of the month before he was back in the papers, featured as “feeling frisky” during a 2-2 tie that Boston and the Toronto Maple Leafs shared in on Tuesday, December 27.

Lucky Him/Her: That’s Bruins’ manager and coach Art Ross, I’m afraid, with the team’s poor, chained mascot in December of 1933. Garden attendant and bear wrangler Billy Banks is in the background.

Let loose on the ice in the intermission between first and second periods, “he romped around the length of the rink twice and then attempted fence climbing,” the Globe observed. “He did get over the fence once but was put back on the ice by a Garden attendant.”

In January, Lucky Bruin made what seems to have been her showing at a game that Boston lost 0-1 to the visiting Montreal Maroons. Still not clear on the bear’s gender, the Globe seems to have opted for inclusivity, switching it around within a single paragraph, a progressive choice, surely, for the day — unless it was unintended:

During the intermission between the second and third period, after making his usual tour of the rink, the bear stopped near the Bruin bench, hesitated a minute and then quick as a flash climbed over the low fence. The Bruins’ dentist from his seat in the front row was watching her every move, however, and just as Lucky Bruin landed on the other side of the fence, he grabbed the bear’s chain and held her until an attendant reached there.

He’s not named in the Globe game report but I think this would have been Dr. Charles W. Crowley. The attendant, I guess, was Billy Banks. Is this what Art Ross was thinking of as nastiness? Anyway, I haven’t found any further mention in the Boston papers of Lucky after that, so maybe she took her retirement mid-season.

Maine Event: The Governor of Maine presented this former bear to the Bruins in 1954.

In 1954, the Bruins were taking no chances on in-rink nastiness: the black bear they took delivery of that February was well and truly dead. I don’t know that this one had a name, but it was seven-feet tall, weighing 450 pounds. Someone had shot it near Millinocket, Maine, apparently, and taxidermied it.

Maine Governor Burton M. Cross presented it to Bruins’ owner Walter Brown ahead of a game against the Detroit Red Wings.

“I hope the bear will help to bring the Bruins luck,” said the Governor.

“I hope that luck goes to work tonight,” Brown said. The Bruins had lost seven in a row. With the bear encased in glass in the Garden lobby, they managed a 1-1 tie.

I don’t know how long the Maine bear kept his place; I’d like to imagine that he was still around in 1970 when Boston won another Stanley Cup, their first since 1941. Does anyone know?

The team did have a roaming bear by then, which is to say someone roaming the aisles of the old Garden in unnerving bear suit, as seen at the top of this post.

Winnie The Bruin: Hall Gill and the Bruins wore these bearish alternate sweaters in 1999-2000. The team’s ReverseRetro sweaters revived this bear in 2020. (Image: Classic Auctions)

The Bruins got a new rink in 1995, what’s now known as the TD Garden, and some point it gained a big bronze bear statue. The team says on its website that it has commissioned another one, too, to honour its alumni, with details of when it will be unveiled to follow. “The statue, which is in the shape of a Bruins bear, is being sculpted by Harry Weber, the same artist who previously sculpted and created the famous Bobby Orr statue that sits in front of TD Garden.”

Since 2000, the Bruins have had an official guy-in-a-fake-bear-suit mascot, the cartoonish Blades. The team held a contest to name him: Spokey, Bruiser, and Stanley Cub was some of the finalist. “A soft, furry guy with big teeth,” the Globe described him on his debut, at which time the Bruins, via community relations coordinator Heather Wright, made abundantly clear that Blades was strictly an off-ice member of staff and wouldn’t be donning skates to perform gimmicks, no way.

“Our game is very focussed on the game of hockey,” Wright told the Globe. “Blades is an addition to that. We added him to create a fun, more complete experience for our fans, particularly families. We expect he’ll be doing a lot of head-patting, handshaking, and hugging.”

Embed from Getty Images

 

In 2009, the Boston advertising agency Mullen crafted a popular and, shall we say, grittier multimedia campaign for the Bruins featuring yet another simulated bear. (You can view a compilation of the Mullen spots here.)

“The Bruins have their swagger back,” Greg Almeida, the copywriter on the file, told the Boston Globe, “and we wanted to come up with something that really brought that forth.”

“We actually modified the look of the bear a little bit,” said Jesse Blatz, the art director. “We furrowed his brown a little bit to make him look nasty. If you want, you can spend over $100,000 to rent a bear suit fort a commercial shoot. But the bear that we got, he’s not overly fancy. He’s a working man’s bear.”

 

(Image of Blades on ice flying his flag shows the aftermath of a Bruins victory over the New Jersey Devils at TD Garden on October 12, 2019. Image: Kathryn Riley/Getty Images)

guy lafleur, 1951—2022

Minus Ten: Montreal’s Gazette is reporting this morning that Guy Lafleur has died at the age of 70. A colossus of the Canadiens cosmos, he played 14 seasons for Montreal before he retired in 1985. He made a return with the New York Rangers, with whom he skated for another season, and played a further two for the Quebec Nordiques. He won five Stanley Cup championships with Montreal, along with a cluster of individual awards: three Art Ross trophies, 2 Harts, a Conn Smythe.

 

a leaf supreme

Leaf Lodestar: Born in Noranda on a Friday of this same date in 1940, Dave Keon is 82 today, so here’s hoisting a well-taped CCM to him. In 2016, Toronto’s team declared him the Greatest Leaf Ever to Have Mapled, ahead of Syl Apps, Ted Kennedy, Darryl Sittler, and everybody else. Keon won the Calder Trophy as the NHL’s superlative rookie in 1961 and then a pair of Lady Byngs, in ’62 and ’63, and a Conn Smythe in ’67. Oh, and four Stanley Cup championships. He served as Toronto’s captain from 1969 through to 1975. Also in 2016, the Leafs retired Keon’s number, 14, and stationed a statue of him in front of what was then the Air Canada Centre.

stratford’s streak

Statuesque: It was 85 years ago today, on Monday, March 8, 1937, that Howie Morenz, inimitable Canadiens’ centre,  died of a coronary embolism at Montreal’s Hôpital Saint-Luc, a dreadful complication of the much-broken ankle he’d suffered on the ice a month earlier. He was 34. Alongside homages to Lafleur, Richard, and Béliveau, Morenz’s statue stands before the Bell Centre in Montreal. (Image: Stephen Smith)

elbow room

SaskTale: It was on a Saturday of this date in 1928 that the great Gordie Howe was born in Floral, Saskatchewan. About 30 kilometres north, outside Saskatoon’s SaskTel Centre, this is the statue that stands to commemorate, among other things, the view that many a defenceman would have had in the corner of a mid-century rink as Detroit’s #9 made his approach. Gordie Howe died in June of 2016 at the age of 88. (Image: Stephen Smith)

legends woe

Bench Strength: The Leafs laid flowers this afternoon in honour of their departed captain. The legendary Leafs represented here are, from the left, Darryl Sittler, Ted Kennedy, Syl Apps, Wendel Clark, Dave Keon, Armstrong, Johnny Bower, and Turk Broda.

The Toronto Maple Leafs are paying tribute today to former captain George Armstrong, following the announcement of his death early on Sunday at the age of 90. With the modern-day edition of the team in action in Calgary, Armstrong’s likeness is fronting Scotiabank Arena in Toronto this afternoon, and the team laid flowers in front of his likeness on Legends Row. Nobody has played more games for the Leafs than Armstrong, who captained the team for 12 years and led them to four Stanley Cups.

le démon blond

“The class of hockey,” winger Wayne Cashman of the Boston Bruins called Montreal’s Guy Lafleur in the late 1970s, when the two teams weren’t exactly kindred spirits. “Guy Lafleur is Guy Lafleur,” added Bruins’ coach Don Cherry, around that same time: “the greatest hockey player in the world today, bar none.” Anything to add, other Bruins’ winger John Wensink? “Guy Lafleur better have eyes in the back of his head, because I’m going to cut his ears off,” Wensink offered after a particularly spiteful encounter between the two teams in the playoffs for the 1977 Stanley Cup. Lafleur was supposed to have aimed a slapshot at Bruins’ defenceman Mike Milbury, causing Boston goalie Gerry Cheevers to chase after him and … but no. Whatever he did or didn’t do back then, today is Lafleur’s birthday, so let’s stick with the superlatives. “Quick, decisive, confident,” is what teammate Ken Dryden wrote of Thurso, Quebec’s own Flower, who’s turning 69 today; “ever threatening, his jersey rippling, his hair streaming back the way no one else’s hair did.” That’s Lafleur’s statue above, photographed one November evening out where it guards the approaches to Montreal’s Bell Centre, on permanent duty with his fellow tricolore titans, Howie Morenz, Maurice Richard, and Jean Béliveau.

(Image: Stephen Smith)

four-score and 50 years ago: bobby soared as boston won the 1970 stanley cup

Show And Tell: Bruins’ captain Johnny Bucyk shows off the Stanley Cup to the Boston Garden faithful on Sunday, May 10, 1970, after Bobby Orr’s inimitable overtime goal won the team their first NHL championship since 1941. (Image: Brearley Collection, Boston Public Library)

Boston Bruins’ fans won’t soon forget the most famous goal to have been scored in the old Garden, but just in case there’s an 800-pound statue of Bobby Orr flying bronzely through across the concourse in front of the rink the nowadays Bruins play in, when they’re playing, the TD Garden. It was 50 years ago today, on another Sunday, Mother’s Day of 1970, that Orr scored the memorable overtime goal, just prior to take-off, that put paid to the St. Louis Blues and won the Bruins their first Stanley Cup since 1941.

Fans of that famous goal and/or of the unforgettable image that Boston Record-American photographer Ray Lussier snapped of it have plenty to keep them busy this anniversary weekend.

I recommend Dan Robson’s new oral history of the goal at The Athletic, where you’ll hear from Orr himself along with Derek Sanderson, Phil Esposito, Bruins coach Harry Sinden, and his counterpart from St. Louis, Scotty Bowman.

Also? At NHL.com, Dave Stubbs has a piece previewing an NHL Network Originals documentary that’s debuting tonight. The 1970 Boston Bruins: Big, Bad & Bobby is on-screen tonight across North America (8 p.m. ET on Sportsnet and the NHL Network).

In the flurry of remembrances, would we note how, 50 years ago, in the immediate chaos of the Bruins’ championship celebrations, a 22-year-old Orr accounted for what he’d done a few minutes earlier?

“I don’t know what I did,” Mike Widmer from UPI quoted him saying the dressing-room aftermath. “I saw it go in the net as I was flying in the air. Then I hit the ice and before I could get up the guys were on top of me.”

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Another unbylined UPI dispatch started with this:

How would you expect a 22-year-old to describe the biggest moment of his spectacular young life?

How about: “The Stanley Cup! Wheeeeee!!!”

A little in that same piece, Orr did venture a little further into detail:

“Turk [Sanderson] made a helluva play out of the corner,” Orr recalled while pleading with the team doctor “to please prescribe a beer for me.”

“I saw it go in,” Kevin Walsh from Boston’s Globe managed to glean from Orr. “Oh ya, it was in.”

“I didn’t know where it was going. I just shot the darn thing. I think it went between his [St. Louis goaltender Glenn Hall’s] legs.”

“Don’t ask me how the play started. I don’t remember. I don’t know how it happened.”

“I know what this win is for me. It’s so great.”

Something I would like to get cleared up — maybe tonight, in the documentary, we’ll learn the truth? — is just where Orr’s mother, Arva, was during all the nostalgic rejoicing that night in 1970.

Reading Gerald Eskenazi in the May 11 edition of the New York Times, you might have been gladdened to hear this:

Scoring in today’s game, the only close one of the series, started with Rick Smith of the Bruins getting a rising shot past Glenn Hall, underneath a sign that read ‘Happy Mother’s Day Mrs. Orr.’

This was for Bobby’s mother who had come from their home in Canada.

Orr himself mentions this Mother’s Day banner in his 2013 memoir, My Story, though he doesn’t say one way or the other whether the woman to whom it paid tribute was actually on the property.  

The Canadian Press report that ran across Canada had her in the building, too:

Bobby Orr, the 22-year-old wonder defenceman who scored the winning goal in overtime, stood grinning under television lights as his father fought through the crowd toward him.

Doug Orr, who came down from his Parry Sound, Ont., home with Mrs. Orr, left his wife outside the dressing room.

“This is the best day of my life,” he said.

Mr. Orr spilled more of his teeming heart to the Boston Globe’s Martin Pave. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but tonight I don’t care if Bobby gets higher than a kite. He deserves it. I’ve never seen him drunk, but the way we’re all feeling, who cares?”

Wheeeeee! Sculptor Harry Weber bronzed Orr flies through the Boston air in front of the modern-day TD Garden.

Pave wondered how Mr. Orr had reacted when his son scored. “I jumped,” the ebullient father said. “I screamed. Then I rushed to the phone to call my wife in Parry Sound. I can’t even remember what she said because she was crying her eyes out.”

“Then,” Pave continued, “Doug rushed to the Bruins dressing room and embraced his son. He grabbed a bottle and joined the celebration.”

Definitely in the tumultuous room, even if Mrs. Orr wasn’t: Dit Clapper. He’d been the Bruins’ captain, of course, back when they’d last lifted the Cup in 1941. Remarkably, he’d played on all three of the Bruins’ previous Stanley Cup-winning teams, in 1929, 1939, and ’41.

Now 63, he’d flown in from his home in Peterborough, Ontario. “This is a helluva club,” he said in the team’s dressing room as 1970 celebrations turned increasingly liquid. He was up on a bench, surveying the scene, as Globe columnist Harold Kaese told it.

“It was never like this when we won in 1941,” he quoted Clapper as saying. “I think we had a bottle of beer, maybe.”

The Goal: Photographer Chad Coombs echoed Number Four’s famous goal in “Hockey Night In Canada: A Bobby Orr Tribute.’ For more of his work, visit http://www.chadcoombs.com. (Image courtesy of Chad Coombs.)

and howe

It was three years ago today that Gordie Howe died at the age of 88 in Sylvania, Ohio. On June 14, 2016, some 15,000 mourners paid their respects at Detroit’s Joe Louis Arena. At the funeral next morning at the Cathedral of the Most Blessed Sacrament, amid an outpouring of love and sorrow and respect and nostalgia, rector the Reverend J.J. Mech delivered the homily. “I just hope he doesn’t elbow too many angels,” he said. In September of 2016, Howe’s family and friends gathered outside SaskTel Centre in Saskatoon, about 30 kilometres north of Mr. Hockey’s birthplace of Floral. The solemn ceremony that day saw his ashes interred with those of his wife Colleen (who died in 2009) beneath the statue (above) by sculptor Michael Martin that’s been in place since 2005. “Whenever he talked about wanting to go home,” Howe’s daughter Cathy told The Saskatoon Star-Phoenix, “especially when things got really confusing for him … I would often ask him ‘where’s home?’ He would look at me and say ‘Saskatoon,’ like I should know.”

(Image: Stephen Smith)

johnny bower: when his team lost, his grin was the same as when his team won

I don’t know of anybody playing with Johnny who ever had a bad word to say about him. He’s just one of those wonderful fellows who comes along that’s tolerant of everything. If trouble is there, he’ll enjoy it and try to find a way to get out of it. I’ve never seen him without a smile on his face. When his team lost, his grin was the same as when his team won. If you try a hundred per cent, then you should have no bad feelings about the outcome. That was relayed to me once and I think somebody must have told Johnny the same thing. There’s a good picture of us together when the Leafs won the Cup in 1963 and I’ve got my arm around him at centre ice, congratulating him. I felt it was the right thing to do. He was an old friend and I had to go congratulate him.

• Gordie Howe in his foreword to The China Wall, Bob Duff’s 2006 Johnny Bower biography.

 

(Image: Stephen Smith)

broad street bully pulpit

Coach Fog: Four months after Fred Shero was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, the Flyers unveiled a statue of their championship coach on March 15. Sculptor Chad Fisher’s 8-foot, 1,300-pound bronze work stands on the site of the old Spectrum. Bernie Parent, for one, was pleased. “This statue,” he said, “will be standing in the heart of Philadelphia as a reminder to all fans back then, all fans now, and all fans to come, that Fred Shero was truly the best coach one of the best human beings this city has and ever will see.” (Photo: Chad Fisher)

Coach Fog: Four months after Fred Shero was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, the Flyers unveiled a statue of their championship coach on March 15. Sculptor Chad Fisher’s 8-foot, 1,300-pound bronze work stands on the site of the old Spectrum. Bernie Parent, for one, was pleased. “This statue,” he said, “will be standing in the heart of Philadelphia as a reminder to all fans back then, all fans now, and all fans to come, that Fred Shero was truly the best coach one of the best human beings this city has and ever will see.” (Photo: Chad Fisher, http://www.fishersculpture.com/)

After the Rangers won the 1994 Stanley Cup, the team’s first championship in 54 years, they fulfilled the words of their coach, Mike Keenan: “Win this, and you’ll walk together forever.”

• Lucas Aykroyd writes about Trevor Linden’s
appointment as Vancouver’s new president for
hockey operations, The New York Times, April 13, 2014.

Yes, true. On June 14, 1994, as the Rangers prepared to meet the Canucks in Game Seven, Mike Keenan gave what his captain would call one of the best speeches he’d ever heard. Rick Carpiniello recounts this in Messier: Steel In Ice (1999):

“Go out and win it for each other, and if you do, you will walk together for the rest of your lives,” Keenan told the Rangers.

“He seized the moment,” Messier said. “He took control of the situation. We needed it at the time. Mike came through when we needed him most. Everything he said hit home, to everybody. It was incredible. It got us back on track.”

But credit where credit’s due. Aykroyd, Carpiniello, and Messier fail to mention the man — a Rangers’ coach of another era — who not only said it first, 20 years earlier, but proved that it worked.

Everybody knows this, right? Before he got to the Rangers, when Fred Shero (a.k.a. The Fog) was coaching the Philadelphia Flyers, he used to leave his players messages on a blackboard in the dressing room, a koan here, an adage there, words to challenge and spur the spirit. Going into Game Six of the finals against Boston in May of 1976, the Flyers had the chance to wrap up the series and win their first Stanley Cup. Lose and they’d have to go back to Boston. Shero worked his chalk. Rick MacLeish scored. Bernie Parent shut, as they say, the door.

Miracle Flyers Take The Cup and

the City Goes Wild with Joy!

read the front of The Philadelphia Inquirer next morning.

Shero chalks

Shero chalks

A quick history of Shero’s chalk-talking would have to go back a few years. Shero himself steers clear of the blackboard and its uses in the book he wrote with Vijay Kothare, Shero: The Man Behind The System (1975). According to Jack Chevalier in The Broad Street Bullies (1974), it dates to the coach’s second season with the Flyers, 1972-73, when he wrote a note about team commitment before a big win. “Ever since, Shero has been hungrily searching for clever passages and slogans to circulate among the team or to give to a particular player.”

“Ahhhh,” said captain Bobby Clarke at the time. “I look at them and laugh. I can’t remember any, because there’s a new one every day. I wonder where he gets ’em.”

Shero:

“They used to laugh at first and dream up funny things to write beside my messages. But now they act like it’s something sacred. They’d never erase it.”

With Shero gone — he died in 1990 — the central repository of Shero’s blackboard wisdom resides in Rhoda Rappeport’s Fred Shero (1977).

“An oak tree is just a nut that held its ground,” he wrote one night.

And: “A barking dog is often more useful than a sleeping lion.”

“Four things come not back — the spoken word, the sped arrow, the past life and neglected opportunities.”

“If he read this stuff to us, it wouldn’t work at all,” defenceman Barry Ashbee told Chevalier. “It’s corny, and some guys still laugh. But if you really look at the quotes, there’s a lot of life in there.”

Shero could sound a little bashful, talking about his sloganeering. “I just ran across a couple of good ones last year,” he said 1974, “and tried ’em out. Before that I guess I coached like everybody else. Now I find these things in books, magazines — everything I read.” Chevalier:

His sources range from the life story of Washington Redskins coach George Allen to an article entitled, ‘Ten Lost Years — A History of Canadians During The Depression.’

On his bulletin board is an Edgar Guest poem, ‘Team Work,’ neatly typed on Flyers stationery. Each player got a copy. He also passed out a fan’s poem, ‘It’s All A State of Mind.’ The first line: “If you think you’re beaten, you are.’ From an old Saturday Evening Post, Shero clipped a Cadillac advertisement with an editorial entitled ‘The Penalty of Leadership.’

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