As Penguins and Senators prepare to open their NHL Eastern Conference Final tonight in Pennsylvania, history recalls that Ottawa and Pittsburgh have met four times previously in the playoffs (going back to 2006-07) and that the Penguins hold the advantage (winning three series to Ottawa’s one). The Penguins made their NHL entrance in 1967, of course, which makes the Senators relative newcomers: they debuted in 1992. Fetching further back, both Ottawa and Pittsburgh iced teams in the NHL’s first decade. The original Senators were there from the start in 1917, winning the Stanley Cup in 1927, and they played on until 1934, when they upped skates and departed for St. Louis. Pittsburgh got its initial team in 1925 when the erstwhile USAHA champions, the Yellow Jackets, transformed into the NHL Pirates. The team lasted five seasons in the league before a sale took them across Pennsylvania to become the Philadelphia Quakers. The new team lasted just a single season before folding in 1931.
Pirates and Senators met for the first time in early December of 1925, at Ottawa’s Auditorium. The home team prevailed 1-0. Here’s a look:
“Those bold buccaneers from Pittsburgh showed canny cutlasses,” opined The Ottawa Journal. Local reviews also called the Pirates “pesky” and remarked that the team, while speedy, lacked scoring. Pittsburgh coach Odie Cleghorn had been enthusiastic from the first, though he’d done his best to try to manage Pittsburgh expectations even as he enthused about his charges.
“Don’t expect too much of them at the start,” he’d said in November, “because what they need more than anything else is a couple of games. We will outspeed any team in the league and just as soon as some of the rough edges are worn off, you can quote me as saying we will take a whole lot of beating.”
They beat Boston and Montreal’s usually mighty Canadiens when the season got underway before losing in overtime to the New York Americans. That got them to Ottawa.
Six thousand fans were on hand —“remarkable good considering the weather,” thought the Journal: it was raining.
The Ottawa Citizen: “It was a great hockey match, one of the best ever witnessed in Ottawa’s magnificent Ice Palace, and it will be long remembered by those fortunate enough to have been present.”
Lionel Conacher had remained a star of football and lacrosse field while captaining the Yellow Jackets, and he’d surprised some when he opted to turn professional with the Pirates in 1925. The Citizen’s review:
The big boy is sound as a defensive player, a good puck-carrier, a fairly fast skater and dangerous on the offensive, as he packs a wicked shot. Conacher’s only weakness appears to be his unsteadiness on his skates. But, for such a big and powerful athlete, he is an exceptionally clean player.
“Painfully keen,” said the Journal’s man on the scene, “a good strong skater, if a trifle awkward.” He was to commended for knowing how to “husband his energy and use it at the proper time.”
Ottawa defenceman King Clancy had been injured in the team’s previous game against Boston. He’d been in hospital with a torn muscle in his back but was allowed to attend the Pittsburgh game as spectator. He went to the Ottawa dressing room after the first period, determined to get into the game; coach Alex Currie said no.
Hooley Smith dropped back from right wing to cover for Clancy. Also starting for the Senators were Frank Nighbor, Hec Kilrea, and Cy Denneny. Five of Ottawa’s nine players on the night would end up in the Hall of hockey Fame; Conacher and goaltender Roy Worters were Pittsburgh’s future Famers. Odie Cleghorn was the Pirate coach.
The Ottawa Journal noted that Frank Nighbor and Conacher were at one another throughout the game, staging “several lively bumping duels, with honours fairly evenly divided.”
Star of the game? The Pirates’ Roy Worters. “Many Legged,” the Journal called him, as well as “Argus-eyed.” How many shots did he stop? “Fully fifty.”
Ottawa’s netminder was Alec Connell. “Unspectacular” was the word the Journal attached to his shutout performance; he also got “a regular bulwark.”
Another Ottawa defenceman, Ottawa captain George Boucher, scored the game’s only goal in the third period. “Buck,” they called him. He rushed from deep in his own end, fired a shot ankle-high just as Pittsburgh defenders Roger Smith and Conacher closed in on him.
The rink was loud in the first two periods, the Journal’s correspondent noted. In the third, it got louder still:
When Boucher finally broke the knot and gave Ottawas the game, old pandemonium who has done such tried and true service in the past sounded like a mere whisper alongside the cataract of noise that was unloosed. The cheer wave continued for over a minute, and the man who beggared description would have to grope for words to adequately impress the scene on what should by now be a thoroughly aroused throng of readers.
Back in Pittsburgh, despite the loss, the reviews for the Pirates were warm. “No longer are the Pirates a mystery team,” said The Press. “They established themselves as a real hockey team, one which will be troublesome for any team to beat any place and under any conditions.”
The win sent Ottawa to the top of the seven-teamed NHL standings. Like the Montreal Canadiens they’d collected six points, but the Senators were undefeated after three games while Montreal had lost one of four. Pittsburgh, at 2-2, held third place.
Ottawa prevailed the next time the teams met, and the next time after that, too. The scores were 5-0 and 1-0 respectively, with Connell refusing to allow even a single goal. It was February 2, 1926 before Roy Worters was able to return the favour, when Pittsburgh finally beat Ottawa for the first time by a score of 1-0.
Ottawa was at the top of the league when the season ended with Pittsburgh holding third place. Come the playoffs, the Pirates went out at the hands of the Montreal Maroons, who then beat the Senators for the NHL title and the chance to play for the Stanley Cup, which they did, beating the WHL’s Victoria Cougars for the championship.
End of the summer, 1939, and as the world headed for war, Babe Siebert was back home in western Ontario in the little crossroads village of Zurich, where he’d grown up. At 35, Siebert the younger had played the last game of his monumental NHL career in the spring of the year, March, going out as captain of the Montreal Canadiens as they lost in the first round of the playoffs to Detroit’s Red Wings. Slowed, in his final season, by a wrenched back, he’d scored the last of his NHL goals in February against Toronto. Once, as a Maroon in Montreal early in his career, he’d plied the wing, joining Nels Stewart and Hooley Smith on one of the league’s most feared lines, but he’d finished up on defence. Lending his experience to guide the Canadiens, too: when, midway through the season, the Canadiens fired coach Cecil Hart, after Frank Boucher and Herb Gardiner were said to have turned down the job, club secretary Jules Dugal took up the team’s reins with Siebert as a playing assistant.
There was talk again, after the season, of Frank Boucher taking over the team, or maybe Bun Cook? But most of the betting was on Siebert, who was indeed named to the post in early June.
In August, on the occasion of his father’s 80th birthday, Siebert travelled west to Zurich from Montreal with his family. A month still remained before the Canadiens would gather to train for the season’s start in early November. On this day, August 25, 1939, newspapers bore dispatches of imminent war in Europe. U.S. President Franklin Roosevelt was appealing to Adolf Hitler to back off his threats to Poland; Pope Pius XII asked the world to pray for peace.
Babe Siebert took his daughters for a swim, Judy, 11, and 10-year-old Joan. Lake Huron wasn’t far, a few miles to the west. Siebert was there with his girls and two of his nieces, and his friend from Zurich was with them, Clayton Hoffman. One of the children let go of an inner-tube and when it began to float off, Siebert called the children in and went after it himself. He was 150 feet out when he got into trouble.
“The wind was carrying it parallel to the shoreline,” Hoffman later said, “and it was soon apparent that he was in difficulty. I was standing on the shore fully dressed when I heard his cries.”
Hoffman reported going into the water but getting tangled in his clothes. Siebert was 35 feet away. “Before I could reach him, Babe had gone down for the last time.”
Miss Burnette Mouseau of Zurich was sitting in a car on the beach and she raised the first alarm. Hoffman ran to a nearby house to seek aid. Would-be rescuers dove down to search at the spot where Siebert was last seen, but he was gone. Eventually, a fishing boat was summoned from Grand Bend to help in the search. was It was three days before his body was found by his brother, Frank, on the lake’s bottom, about 40 feet from where he’d vanished. Continue reading