NHL player who grew up in Ontario and even beyond where his favourite place to play was and virtually every single one would give you a simple two-word answer: the Gardens. Even Wayne Gretzky stated so time and time again.
We now know, sadly, of the shocking acts going on down at the intersection of Church and Carlton. Almost a hundred boys were sexually abused there by a small group of Gardens staff members. When the abuse came to light in 1997 shortly before the arena closed its doors, the revelation stained its legacy. Reconciling those horrible crimes with the dreams of my youth was not easy, and the situation certainly did give me pause to reconsider. But over time the disgust faded away and I, like so many others, have rediscovered the feeling of growing up in awe of the place. Even now, when I walk the short distance from the intersection of College and Yonge, where the street straightens out and gives way to Carlton, I get chills as the Gardens comes into view.
Game 5 of the 1993 NHL Campbell Conference final between the Leafs and Los Angeles Kings, played at the Gardens on May 25, was the second-best sporting event I have ever witnessed live. The only game that possibly surpasses it for excitement was the gold medal final at the Vancouver Olympics between Canada and the U.S., February 28, 2010. I think I’m just forcing myself to believe that the Olympic final was more exciting because the stakes in the Canada–U.S. game were much, much higher. As important as any NHL conference final is, neither the Leafs nor Kings were going home series winners after Game 5 back in 1993. Also, two conference finals take place every year. That description may make it sound run-of-the-mill, but I would argue the 1993 example is the most memorable hockey game to take place in Toronto in modern hockey history — because the Leafs won. Four nights later Gretzky came back and quashed the dreams of the fans and the team that he grew up watching. Game 7 was far more important, but it all ended so badly.
With the sixth contest set for Los Angeles two days later, Game 5 was a virtual must-win for the Leafs. The night started with the crowd cheering as they were informed that Mark Osborne had been scratched from the Leafs lineup. Osborne, one-third of the so-called B-O-Z line that also included Bill Berg and the late Peter Zezel, had some issues scoring goals that post-season even though Zezel had set him up with dozens of glorious chances. The guy sitting next to me that night — and if he said it once he said it a million times — thought that had Osborne been able to convert half his scoring chances, the Leafs would have already won the series in a sweep. Osborne was scratched because his wife had given birth; Kent Manderville had taken his place. These days, Osborne is a frequent presence on Leafs TV telecasts, and though I think he was a decent NHL player, every time I see him on the Leafs TV set near the ACC west escalator, I think of that long-ago night when Leafs fans cheered his omission from the lineup.
Just before the puck drop, I ran into no less a figure than Gary Bettman as I was about to ascend the Gardens escalators to my assigned seat. I had just read a fairly positive review in The Hockey News that day about Bettman’s first hundred days on the job as NHL commissioner. Like the review, I believed that Bettman had done a good job, and, giddy in the excitement of the moment, I shook his hand and congratulated him. Bettman sheepishly thanked me but looked as if he thought I was not in complete control of all my mental faculties (I swear, I was). To this day, my friends, a few of whom are conspiracy types who believe Bettman is somehow out to get Canadian hockey fans, won’t let me forget doing it.
The game is both a blur and an event where even marginal details remain burned into my mind. Both men are no longer with us, but I can still see the mullets of Leafs coach Pat Burns and Peter Zezel swaying in the wind as though they are both very much alive. Even less glamorous Leafs such as Mike Krushelnyski are embedded in my brain. That same guy beside me — the Osborne fan — had hung the unofficial nickname of “Casual Cruiser” on Krushelnyski in some sort of backhanded nod to his effortless skating ability. And it was true: Krushelnyski’s cruising up and down his wing is one of the details that a setting such as the Gardens framed so perfectly. I saw Krushelnyski play in an NHL old-timers game in Barrie almost two decades later, and I instantly recognized that fluid stride the moment I saw it — it hadn’t changed a bit since he played at the Gardens that night, even if the man himself was older and greyer.
If the same game took place at Air Canada Centre, or any of the other leading arenas of the present-day NHL, it wouldn’t have matched the atmosphere that night in the Gardens. I was sitting in one of the last rows of the building and it was as if I could reach out and touch Glenn Anderson when he swatted in the winning goal out of mid-air. The dome almost flew off the Gardens. With nowhere for the sound to go but bounce right back at you, the noise was paralyzing and liberating all at the same time. The Leafs had one step to go before a dream Stanley Cup final with the Montreal Canadiens. The air around the Gardens that night was so thick with excitement, you could taste it. But a guy in zebra stripes with bad hair poured hemlock into the Leafs cup of dreams. The bitter aftertaste still stings.
4
Kerry Fraser
Referees.
They are often cited as having the most difficult and thankless job in all of sports. That said, there are times, however rare, when a ref wholeheartedly earns the scorn heaped on them by fans, players, and media alike.
If you follow or play hockey long enough, you’ll start to notice the offending individual in many ways — the mannerisms, the way he skates, the way he waves off calls. Depending how much hockey you played as a youngster and how high a level you managed to make it to once you got a little older, you picked up on these annoying ref-isms more as you went along.
It first hit me how grating certain refs could be when I was playing AAA rep hockey as a kid. A few just seemed to have a sense of superiority about them when they entered the arena. Aside from teenagers or early-twenties types who toil as minor-hockey refs, or others who handle rec league games for pocket money, most zebras, if they were honest with themselves, would admit they’d rather be playing the game than calling it. Seriously, would you rather play in the National Hockey League, or be one of the guys who are noticed only if he makes a mistake?
And there’s the rub. It really takes guts to skate around knowing full well that virtually every time you blow the whistle half the people on the ice will be annoyed, the other half asking “What took you so long?”
If you were around in the 1980s, you’ll recall the styles of the day called for a lot of hair. And although the fashion crossed ages and classes, nowhere was it more consistently and slavishly followed than in hockey and all its subcultures.
“Hockey mullets” survive as one of the most entertaining Google searches at work that won’t get you fired.
Along with shorter hair, much has changed over the years relating to how games are called in the NHL. The biggest change has been the addition of a second referee. But a strong personality and a healthy dose of self-belief remain key prerequisites for managing all the competing forces and personalities on the ice.
Let’s be honest, it takes stones the size of billiard balls to tell a raving John Tortorella that he has it all wrong. It takes even bigger ones to make a split-second call that you know may turn the tide of a game. Skate a mile in a ref’s skates and you would very quickly understand how difficult a job they have. Still, there is always a niggling sense that a few refs are just a little too smart, not unlike the uniformed police officer who develops that strange habit of always taking a stroll at your local pub when most of his brethren can’t be bothered.
And then there is Kerry Fraser. Fraser has never had a shortage of self-belief and he apparently missed the memo that hairstyles from the 1980s are no longer de rigueur. And if there is one man who makes the collective blood of Leafs fans boil, it is undeniably Fraser.
Let’s
