The Mystery of the Paul Whiteman Trophy

While doing research for my new book, Joining the Clubs: The Business of the National Hockey League to 1945 (pre-order now at Amazon.ca or .com!), I ran into several trophies that were inaugurated in the early years of the NHL to reward both clubs and players for their performances. Most of these are familiar, like Lady Byng, Hart, Vézina, and even the Prince of Wales, but I was also intrigued by those that had apparently fallen by the wayside. (Click here for a link to the Hockey Hall of Fame trophy collection.)

The disappeared on the club competition side include two trophies for intra-city "derbies": the Kendall Memorial Cup (named after Canadiens owner George Kendall nom de sport Kennedy), which was fought over by the Canadiens and Maroons of Montreal, and the West Side Merchants Association Trophy, competed for by the New York Rangers and Americans. Both of these disappeared with the respective demises of the Maroons and the Americans (and two-club cities in general).

The player awards persisted better, although even a few of these did not. The Greyhound Cup was given by the bus company for the league MVP (seemingly in competition with the already existing Hart Trophy), but I haven't found much on that. The other that intrigued me was the one given by bandleader Paul Whiteman to the "the leading scorer in the National Hockey League."

Like most, I assumed the Maurice "Rocket" Richard Trophy was the first to reward goal-scoring (as distinct from the Art Ross Trophy, which is for goals and assists). My first clue was this image accompanying an article in Maclean's Magazine:

Paul Whiteman and his trophy presentation to Ace Bailey
(Frederick Edwards, "Twinkle, Twinkle, Hockey Star," Maclean's, 1 December, 1929)

Here, then-famous bandleader Paul Whiteman is seen presenting the trophy to Ace Bailey of the Toronto Maple Leafs for his output of 22 goals in 1928-29. "Scoring" could refer to both goals and assists, but the caption specifies that it is for "the most goals." (Ace is more famous for getting creamed by Eddie Shore in 1933.)

I have looked into connections between Whiteman and hockey and found none so far, but Whiteman's own history is fascinating. He was the man who commissioned George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue as part of a campaign to bring jazz music into the mainstream. Some felt his influence sucked the improvisational element out of the style, but a figure no less than Duke Ellington said of him, “Paul Whiteman was known as the King of Jazz, and no one as yet has come near carrying that title with more certainty and dignity.” This article by João Azinhais has a good overview of his forgotten legacy.

As to how Whiteman got interested in hockey... well, it probably speaks to the nature of the entertainment industry in New York in the 1920s. It was a roaring time, as they say, full of novelties like jazz and hockey, with many new stars and celebrities of film, sport, and society emerging (all lubricated by illicit booze, no doubt). I expect Whiteman got turned onto hockey by American and Rangers games at Madison Square Garden, courtesy promoter extraordinaire, Tex Rickard. (And remember that Americans owner Bill Dwyer had been the biggest bootlegger of the age.)

In any case, the mystery of the trophy's present location was resolved by Google. Apparently Bailey kept the trophy (it never seems to have been awarded again) and it wound up in the Bracebridge Sports Hall of Fame in Bailey's hometown, where it is part of a display on Ace. It's great to see it well-preserved and acknowledged.

Paul Whiteman Trophy on display at the Bracebridge Sports Hall of Fame
(image courtesy Don Campbell)

Now onto that Greyhound Cup...

***Check out my new website at jandrewross.ca***

Rest in Peace, Jean Beliveau! (At least you knew that Frank Selke did not buy the Quebec Senior Hockey League!)

The story of how Montreal Canadiens general manager Frank J. Selke had to buy an entire men's senior amateur league in order to get access to one of the enduring stars of the game, Jean Béliveau, is often repeated and has become, as my friend Lloyd Davis called it, “a hoary old chestnut.” The latest references are from Béliveau obituaries (here and here), and has been cited recently in Grantland. (Dave Stubbs got it right in the Gazette).

Time to take the rime off the nut.

The senior amateur QSHL comprised teams from Quebec and Ontario and was the best hockey outside the NHL in that region. Teams were owned and were profit-seeking, but players were amateur (in name at least). This being the case, the QSHL (unlike minor professional leagues) was not obligated to transfer players to the NHL. The players themselves had to decide to become pro, and were under no obligation to do so. Indeed, given the prevailing high QSHL salaries and off-season office jobs for stars, some players were understandably reluctant. This frustrated NHL clubs, who had often paid to develop the players through sponsorship of amateur teams. (In addition, stars remaining in the senior amateur ranks also threatened the supremacy of NHL hockey.)

Jean Béliveau was one of the coveted stars, but the Quebec Aces player repeatedly refused to sign with the Montreal Canadiens, holders of his professional rights. At $20,000 per year, Béliveau's 1952–53 Aces salary was already over double the NHL average, and he seemed in no hurry to play professional. Frank Selke of the Canadiens dangled cash and manoeuvred behind the scenes to oblige Béliveau to sign, and he was helped by the fact that the QSHL was already moving in the direction of professionalization.

After the QSHL's parent, the Quebec Amateur Hockey Association (QAHA), was suspended by the Canadian Amateur Hockey Association (CAHA), the QSHL promptly dropped out of the QAHA to protect its player rights. (If the league had not left, the professional leagues would have been forced to recognize the CAHA suspension and would not have been able to deal with the QSHL teams.) Money was also an issue. The QSHL was not happy with the cut of playoff revenues taken by the CAHA. And at least one money-losing owner, Tommy Gorman of the Ottawa Senators, wanted to realize the value of his player assets by signing players to transferable commercial contracts, thus making them more valuable.

In order to better control revenues and player rights, at a meeting in May 1953 the QSHL owners opted to professionalize as the Quebec Hockey League (QHL). This protected their rights to their players, who would now be put under commercial contract. Their rights could now be traded to NHL teams for $10,000 each. The QSHL clubs were also allowed to "reserve" the rights to negotiate the professional rights to a certain number of amateur players, just like other pro leagues did.

In October 1953, Béliveau signed with the Canadiens, but was there a connection to the professionalization? And where did the story of Selke’s purchase of the league come in? According to the Aces coach, Punch Imlach, Selke had convinced the other owners to professionalize, at least partially with the offer of Canadiens exhibition games in their rinks. Even if true, a few exhibition games seems like a modest price to offer for such a major transition, especially given the greater revenues to be expected from keeping their own playoff money, not to mention the prospect of player sales to the other pro leagues. And the Canadiens did not “own” the QSHL/QHL at any point, not matter how you stretch the definition.

In any case, Béliveau later recalled that he had already decided to sign with the Canadiens for the 1953–54 season before the QSHL professionalized. But since he kept this decision from both Imlach and Selke, it is possible that Selke’s actions to support professionalization in the spring may have been motivated by the idea of forcing Béliveau to sign. For to stay in Quebec, Béliveau would have had to sign a professional contract, and it was the Canadiens who held his professional rights, not Quebec.

R.I.P. Le Gros Bill.(I met him once at a hockey conference. He was regal.)

Sources: Jean Béliveau, Jean Béliveau, pp. 73, 75, 89–90; Punch Imlach, Hockey is a Battle, pp. 35–36, Al Nickleson, “Shouldn't Be Obligated to Go Pro, Says Dudley," Globe & Mail, 15 May 1953, p. 25; “Quebec Seniors Turn Professional,” Globe & Mail, 12 May 1953, p. 24; “Senior Loop Bolts From QAHA Ranks; Goes Independent,” Globe & Mail, 9 March 1953, p. 20.

Winnipeg?

Related to The Globe and Mail has a nice compilation of prevailing views on future NHL expansion, and whether Winnipeg would make the cut. (I'm with Shoalts.)

The Emergence of "Traditional" Hockey Markets?

One aspect of hockey's appeal, for some (Montreal Daily Star, Mar 8, 1923) 

A common criticism of the NHL's southern strategy - the post-1993 push to expand the league into the Sun Belt associated with league commissioner Gary Bettman - is that it is folly to extend a winter sport with only regional support in the United States into areas where winter means a few days of the year when you have to put on a sweater if you go outside. Most recently, the focal point has been Phoenix, a desert oasis where even Wayne Gretzky could not make hockey popular, or at least profitable.

The history of the league shows that all you really need is artificial ice technology and a developed consumer market - how else can you really explain the early success of NHL hockey in places like New York City, where there were probably no more than a few dozen amateur hockey teams when the NHL moved to town in 1925? Or Toronto, where artificial ice was a requirement before the NHL's predecessor would make a commitment? Or Los Angeles? These cities show the real reason for the NHL's success (or lack of it), was primarily customers willing to pay for the on-ice product, which was novel, fast, and yes, just a wee bit violent (but, unlike boxing, the violence was in pursuit of a more noble goal (scoring goals) than beating another man senseless).

Hobey Baker would be proud

Nonetheless, throughout its history the NHL has recognized the importance of developing the sport outside its own clubs. Initially, this took the form of supporting the creation and development of minor professional and senior amateur leagues (and keeping them at bay, in some cases). The league also directly subsidized the American Hockey Association of the United States (AHA of US, now USA Hockey) as it did the Canadian Amateur Hockey Association (now Hockey Canada), but at relatively low financial levels. But while amateur hockey in Canada has continued strong through the decades, providing the core of NHL playing rosters, the United States has never quite lived up to its potential. Part of the problem was the NHL's refusal to entertain the idea that college could be good for professional player development, but that has changed in recent decades.

What prompts me to post on the subject is a recent set of New York Times articles (here, here and here) by Jeff Z. Klein that show that hockey participation is "skyrocketing" and experiencing "explosive growth", especially in non-traditional markets in the American South and West. Klein suggests the proximity to NHL clubs has contributed to this growth, which has made hockey into "a national game" (according to the executive director of USA Hockey, anyway). (For a cool cartographic representation go here.)

This gives credence to the NHL's policy of "growing the game" which, while a longstanding historical wish for the league, has certainly become more intense and committed under Gary Bettman's tenure. And while previous US expansion was geared almost exclusively to obtaining national American TV contracts, the NHL is getting some support for the risks they have taken by putting clubs into markets to develop interest (and create hockey players) and not waiting for those markets to develop a taste for ice on their own. In short, they are actively helping create hockey markets. One day we may even start calling them "traditional".

Apologies

Apparently the blog was hacked in the last few days. I hope I have solved the problem. Sorry for any inconvenience.

The Federal Arena

Updating my last post, the Globe and Mail reports on the temptation to use federal government money to suport hockey and football stadiums....will it happen? And if so, who else will be lining up at the trough?

Language and Hockey, the Canadian specifics

Today, a Globe & Mail editorial took on the Parti Québecois criticism over the Montreal Canadiens and their lack of French-Canadian (read Quebecois) players. When I was scanning the papers yesterday it seemed to be an English paper thing – I didn’t see it in any of the French language newspapers at all, although today I see Le Devoir used it to frame their article on the Habs' Quebecois prospects. The Journal de Montréal also contributed, noting that there has been some criticism from other (unnamed) sources in the last few months. The issue has also pushed Geoff Molson, lead owner of the Habitants, to say he wouldn’t stand in the way of the return of the Nordiques.

I've written about (mis)historicizing the Habs before, and the Globe & Mail editorial repeats a few of the annoyances that I like to take issue with. The first is minor: not including Howie Morenz on their list of non-French Canadiens stars. Morenz was the greatest star of the 1920s and early 1930s, and shows that the Habs always had prominent non-French players. (Tangent: I recently taught my 21-month-old son to chant “’Oww-ee, ’Oww-ee” on the way through Mitchell, Ontario.) The second and more important myth is the 1955 Richard Riot is good example of how “linguistic tensions have played a role in the Habs’ history.” Benoît Melancon’s excellent book The Rocket: A Cultural History of Maurice Richard shows how the linguistic/political aspects of the event were at best uncertain at the time, and that its relevance to the Quiet Revolution was revised over time to create a usable past (check out this interview with the author).

If you want real relevance to linguistic tensions, then focus on the 1976 election of the PQ and the subsequent Canadiens-Nordiques rivalry, which split fans along federalist and nationalist/separatist lines (and more importantly for some, divided them according to the beer they drank, Molson’s (the Canadiens owners) or Carling O’Keefe (the Nordiques owner)). Ken Dryden’s The Game discussed this from a player’s point of view, and Rick Salutin’s play, Les Canadiens, puts this period in a larger context of Quebec history.

The issue that the PQ might want to address is probably the real reason that the Habs are no longer a team of French character – the decreasing participation of Quebeckers in the NHL in general. As mentioned in one of the articles, no Quebec-developed player was chosen in the first two rounds of the 2010 NHL draft. That’s an ominous sign, I think, of a failure in the player development system (if, as the PQ implicitly suggests, success is defined as playing in the NHL). I admit there is a whole other kettle of fish to consider here, namely the possibility of discrimination against Quebeckers in the NHL (see Marc Lavoie’s work, among others), but my point is that while the Habs could maybe be doing a better job scouting Quebec Junior B, they don’t control the whole system anymore like they did in the 1950s and 60s, the heyday of Richard, Béliveau, and Plante (and Harvey, Moore, and Lach…).

The Ted Lindsay and Lester B. Pearson Trophy

A while ago at the Hockey on the Border conference, I had the opportunity to hear Paul Kelly, former executive director of the National Hockey League Players’ Association, talk about his all-too-brief time at the Association, his new job (pdf) with College Hockey Inc., and his views on hockey in general.

Afterwards, I spoke to him about the recent renaming of the Ted Lindsay Award, which was known from 1971 to 2009 as the Lester B. Pearson Award, which goes to the most outstanding player in the NHL as voted by the players themselves. The decision to change the name came under Kelly’s watch, and he is quite proud (justifiably) of the honour going to Ted Lindsay for his role in the formation of the first (failed) NHLPA. (I wrote a brief paper on this (pdf)). In our conversation the question of why the award was named after Pearson in the first place came up. I didn’t know, and neither did Kelly, who suggested it was because Pearson was a friend of Alan Eagleson, then executive director of the NHLPA. I was somewhat sceptical. For one thing, Eagleson was a prominent Tory who was a former Ontario MPP and ran for the Ontario Progressive Conservative leadership in 1976, and Pearson was the Liberal leader in 1963 when Eagleson was a charming guy who could be friends with anyone, I imagine. in 1957-8 ( failed to win a federal seat. That said,

A brief survey of the Globe and Mail of the era doesn’t shed much light on the naming. On March 11, 1971, the National Hockey League Players’ Association announced that it would present a new award named after the former prime minister to the most outstanding player of the NHL as voted by his peers. (G&M, March 12, 1971, pg 26)  In June, Pearson himself presented the award to its first recipient, Phil Esposito, commenting to the Boston Bruins forward that “it must be a great honor to be chosen by your peers.” (G&M, June 25, 1971, pg 29) By then, Pearson knew he had cancer, to which he succumbed in 1972, and what followed was a period of what John English called ‘rapid “hallowing”’ of Pearson.

In terms of sports awards, the hallowing began before Pearson’s death. Certainly, being PM and winning the Nobel Peace Prize in 1957 for his work in helping resolving the Suez Canal crisis gave Pearson stature, but it was his personal participation in sport that seemed to attract these particular honours. Pearson played semi-professional baseball in Guelph and hockey for University of Toronto and Oxford University, winning the inaugural Spengler Cup tournament in 1923. Despite retiring in 1968 in favour of the seemingly youthful and vigorous Pierre Trudeau, it was the athletic reputation of the septuagenarian Pearson that was being burnished. The first was the NHLPA award, and in the fall of 1972 he was himself the first recipient of the Canadian Interuniversity Athletic Union’s Mike Pearson Trophy for outstanding citizens who have exemplified the ideals and purposes of intercollegiate athletics and amateur sports. (G&M Nov 17, 1972, pg 45)

So in a general way, I suppose Pearson was not undeserving, but I would not go so far as Andrew Cohen, a Pearson biographer and now head of the Historica–Dominion Institute (with whom I have disagreed before), who wrote in The Gazette that the name change “cheated Lester B. Pearson of a rightful legacy”, and that “If anyone deserves this honour, it’s Lester Pearson.” I suppose we’d have to compare Pearson’s rightful legacy to represent elite NHL hockey players to Lindsay’s. I’m not sure how much there is, but it we use Pearson’s support for the NHL as a proxy (a dubious assumption, perhaps), then it is not a story of unqualified support. In my own research on the history of the NHL, Pearson does not come off as an unwavering supporter. He was in favour of halting the league during the Second World War, which in my interpretation was an unnecessary kowtowing to American public opinion. He also criticized the league in the mid-1960s over its recruiting practices. These may be small things, but they tells us that Pearson’s main interest was not hockey’s best interests, or the NHL’s, but Canada’s, and there are many awards, schools, airports and places named in his honour in the last four decades to recognize this fact.

Ted Lindsay has his name on very few things, and his contribution to hockey as an all-star player and leading activist for player rights (which cost him his spot with the Detroit Red Wings) makes him clearly more worthy of this award. (I’d hazard a guess that Mike might even agree.)

The Arena as Political Puck

I don't think this team will be winning any Stanley Cups

I am reading with interest the discussion over federal financing of a proposed new Quebec City hockey arena. At the announcement, several Conservative Party MPs showed up in old Quebec Nordiques sweaters, which connected the subsidy to NHL and thus raised controversy in a way that money to rinks in Sainte-Rita QC, St Georges QC, Normandin QC, Bedford NS, Burlington ON, and 440 other projects of Canada’s Economic Action Plan did not.

Though the main issue is being framed as one of fairness to all Canadian regions with sports facilities that serve professional sport franchises (mainly National Hockey League and Canadian Football League, cities (see here for an editorial overview), I would argue there is a more deep-seated historical antipathy at work as well. In 2000, John Manley, then Minister of Industry, learned that, despite Canadians’ love for the national game, they do not want to use their tax money to support NHL hockey. Gary Bettman learned it too, when he came to Parliament to promote government subsidy of highway interchange for the Ottawa Senators and pointed out that American states and municipal governments would fall over themselves to do that, and much more. (I see that his comments now are suitably circumspect.) The lesson was that Canada is not the United States, and that the Canadian relationship to sports, especially the professional-commercial brand, is different, and a little bit complicated.

Since after the Second World War, Canadian governments have supported rink building at the “community” level without much controversy. But “community” is a category that apparently excludes big cities, unless the community is a national one, such as hosting an Olympic Games (see the Big Owe). Even then, the support tends to be municipal and provincial. Where governments are reluctant to contribute is when the facility is mainly for the benefit of a professional sports team. And here I mean “professional” – a characteristic of the players – and not “commercial” – a characteristic of the clubs. Support for facilities associated with junior hockey clubs in Canada do not seem to be subject to the same criticism (that I can think of), nor are the Olympics, even though they are both commercial entities (even not always in name), who employ nominal “amateurs”. It also helps that junior hockey is almost entirely Canadian in nature, and an Olympic team is. In contrast, an NHL team is a different species, with players (mostly Canadian but not all) who are paid enormous salaries to play a game for a league that has an identity divided between Canada and its economic and cultural nemesis, the United States.

The lack of Canadian support for this aspect of the hockey business seems paradoxical given the general sense that Canadian government is more interventionist than American, and more willing to directly support business. (This is a big generalization, but no time to discuss here.) In sports, this is not the case. In my work, I have argued that the Canadian support for sport is mitigated by an ambivalent relationship with business in general, and this is reproduced in attitudes to the hockey business. The NHL is at once respected and reviled, a symbol of Canadian national athletic superiority but also an institution under domination by Americans, so I think we should consider the existence of an underlying association between anti-commercial sentiment and anti-Americanism that manifests itself in a reluctance to fund NHL teams in particular.

Whenever state funding for arenas comes up, I think of my favourite character from the NHL’s history, Conn Smythe, who was the guiding force behind the Toronto Maple Leafs from 1927 to 1961 and the builder of Canada’s most famous arena, Maple Leaf Gardens. Smythe was a dyed-in-the-wool Conservative (Stephen Harper, take note) who could have been said to have been in favour of “small government” (in our current parlance) and was immensely proud that the Gardens had been built without any kind of state support whatsoever. (However, Smythe’s son and successor, Stafford, and his partner Harold Ballard followed the new American trend and tried to get municipal support for an Arena in Vancouver, but failed.)

It says something about political change when the current Conservative prime minister, who is noted for his neo-conservative small government ideology, seems to be considering such support. Of course, times have changed. Beginning during the Second World War (as I illustrated in a chapter of this book), and accelerating in the 1950s and 1960s as Canada started losing in the international arena to state-supported soviet republic teams, the welfare state increasingly understood it to be its responsibility to address what was essentially a private sector failure. There were other issues as well, including sport and youth development, but we can’t underestimate the role of criticism of the NHL’s influence over Canadian amateur hockey development (and national team performance) in the 1960s as drivers for government initiatives such as the Report on Amateur Hockey in Canada by the Hockey Study Committee of the National Advisory Council on Fitness and Amateur Sport (1967), which led to the creation of Hockey Canada. With this, and the 1967 NHL expansion that had excluded Vancouver, the Canadian state became more consistently interested in NHL activities, if indirectly. The relationship between the Canadian state and the NHL has also been an ambivalent one, and this is most evident in the behaviour of state agencies like the CBC, which is at once proud of its flagship Hockey Night in Canada program (the NHL’s main advertising vehicle in Canada), but also keen to make it clear that no public funds go to subsidize it (see Richard Stursberg’s comments here).

On a personal level, since Lester Pearson’s criticism of the NHL’s practices in the 1960s (House of Commons Debates, 15 March 1965, page 12336), prime ministers have usually been more content to appear at games than comment on the league’s business (see my post). The present prime minister has been more willing to both promote his fandom (here, and here), his historical interests in the sport, and his support for NHL expansion. The Quebec rink debate has shown there is a threshold to be aware of. He can give money to a team in return for a ticket, but giving money that will be used to attract a team may be a threshold he doesn’t want to cross. Even the main argument, that a new arena might be an engine of economic growth, is highly contested by economists (see the debate over Darryl Katz’ Edmonton proposal), but the main barrier is a historical Canadian reluctance to give money to an arena that will house an NHL team.

 
In other news: More evidence of the circularity of history. With talk of the resurrection of the Nordiques comes criticism of les Habitants as the federalist team.

The Mystery of the Unknown Flagbearer

If anyone needed any evidence that Canadian interest in the Olympic Games has changed over the years, one need look no further than the current excitement over the identity of the flame-lighter at tonight’s opening ceremonies – will it be Wayner or Terry’s Mom?

We already know that Canada’s flagbearer will be Clara Hughes (can she avoid “the curse”?), but it seems Canada has not been particularly adept at keeping track of the recipients of Olympic honours. Here’s a list of past flagbearers – see anyone missing?

Let’s focus on the Winter Olympics side, where there is no entry for the 1936 Garmisch-Partenkirchen games. Why no one has noticed before may be due to the high profile of the 1936 Berlin Summer Games (Jesse Owens, Canada’s “Nazi” salute, etc.), and also the fact that Canadians prefer to forget the first games in which they lost the gold medal in hockey, a scandal in itself (sound familiar?). Nonetheless, Canada sent some impressive athletes to Garmisch, such as figure skater Montgomery Wilson (he came 4th). (Read the whole report of the Olympics here.)

The call went out last year from the COC to help identify the 1936 flagbearer, and the members of the Society for International Hockey Research (SIHR) exhausted several avenues, including contemporary newspaper reports. Nothing. Although some disagree, the consensus is that it was probably a hockey player, as they had carried the flag at the previous three Winter Olympiads (1924, 1928, 1932) and the next one as well (1948).

The most educated guess comes from Bob Barney, a scholar of the Olympics at The University of Western Ontario. Using techniques he developed for determining the members of the 1908 Canadian summer Olympic team (including the 1908 flagbearer, Ed Archibald – did you miss that one?), he concludes that the features of the flagbearer most closely resemble, hockey player William “Pud” Kitchen (picture above; and below?)

If you know better, contact the COC before the opening ceremonies tonight!

(detail)

A Short History of “Canada’s Teams”

It seems to surprise some people that a new poll suggests the Montreal Canadiens could be considered Canada’s team, as if the Toronto Maple Leafs have always held that honour. But the reasons cited for this seem a little suspect. No worries, hoghee to the rescue.

    Andrew Cohen, who now runs the Historica-Dominion Institute complex, which commissioned the poll, is paraphrased as saying that “the Habs aren’t just a part of our sports history but have also become entrenched in Canadian culture unlike any other team and have helped bridge the country’s linguistic divide.” A pretty bold claim.

    The CP article’s author suggests Roch Carrier’s The Hockey Sweater has something to do with this, but I doubt it. First off, the kid winds up wearing the hated Leafs sweater anyway, so you could argue it’s the Leafs (or Mr Eaton) that is breaking down barriers, if any. (And the small town setting is all French Canada – I don’t see any Anglos to be unified with.) At any rate by the time The Hockey Sweater came out (1979), Richard was a distant memory to its readers. (Although some may, as do I, have a lingering strange affection for Grecian Formula. I can’t find this classic ad featuring the Rocket online, but here’s a song by punk band Belvedere that uses the tag line (though the lyrics indicate another player is being paid tribute).)

    But forgive the tangent and note the date of publication – 1979 – the last of four straight Habs Stanley Cups led by stars readers would recognize – Guy Lafleur, Ken Dryden, et al. (making it eight since the Leafs won in 1967). If this doesn’t make you a national favourite, what will? You might also argue that Edmonton later went on a tear, and they barely rate in the poll. So the roots are deeper.

    The Canadiens story has been a long one (since 1909 or 1910, depending on your POV), but has it always been a national one, not to mention a bilingual one? The Béliveau v. Richard debate brings us to the heart of the matter – national media coverage. The Rocket played from 1942-43 to 1959-60 and of those years would have been seen by a national TV audience only in the last few when he was fading (the first national telecasts of Hockey Night in Canada were in 1957-58). Béliveau’s first full season was 1953-54 and he played until 1970-71, winning several Stanley Cups on national TV. If Quebeckers think Richard was the better player, we should probably give some weight to their opinion – they saw (or heard) both in their primes while Ontarians and others saw mostly Le Gros Bill. In his first seasons, including the famous 50 goals in 50 games of 1944-45, the Canadiens were heard only in Quebec unless they were playing in Toronto. Even when Hockey Night in Canada (the TV show) arrived in 1952, it was a central Canadian phenomenon; Le Soirée du Hockey didn’t get much farther than the Quebec border.

    The article doesn’t mention the reason Toronto was even considered Canadian’s national team in the first place. It’s a simple one: they were the only club regularly featured on the weekly Saturday night radio show sponsored by General Motors and heard across the country from January 1931 (in English). (How that happened is an interesting story in itself.) With Foster Hewitt behind the mike, the show became an instant success and took the Leafs along with it.

    The question we might ask is: why not the Habs? And it we believe statements like “The Canadiens have always been a wonderful mix of French and English” we really might wonder. The short answer is that the Habs of yesteryear are not the Habs of today.

    While Cohen rightly notes that the national anthem has been an important part of Montreal hockey ritual, both at the Forum (built in 1924) and in its predecessor arenas, there was more than one – “O Canada”, “God Save the Queen”, or even “The Maple Leaf Forever”. At Mount Royal Arena in Montreal, the French-Canadian authored “O Canada” was preferred for Habs games.

     We shouldn’t forget that the Canadiens were a team for French Montrealers. Since 1909, the Canadiens name has been used on teams to attract French-speaking Quebeckers to games of what was a sport dominated by the Anglo elites of Montreal, and other central Canadian cities. Early on it was owned by sportsmen who took the need to appeal to the French linguistic constituency seriously, even if it meant massaging the identities of its stars. (Howie Morenz of Mitchell, Ontario, was of German heritage. Canadiens part-owner Léo Dandurand told fans he was Swiss.)

    It is often forgotten that Montreal always had strong teams to appeal to the Westmount (English) hockey crowds, and that the Forum was actually built for one of them, the Montreal Maroons. The Canadian Arena Company owned both Forum and the Maroons, and allowed the Canadiens to join in, but the crowds were separate and the games between the two rivals the most contentious in the NHL. That was the way the arena management liked it. When General Motors came along in 1933 and suggested that Forum games broadcast be bilingual, the Forum refused. The solitudes were to remain separate. They only relented in 1938, when the decision was made to drop the Maroons and keep the Canadiens. Only then did attracting Anglos to Canadiens games become a priority. Later Forum owners like the Molsons went to great lengths to emphasize the bi-national character of the club, for personal, cultural, and political reasons, but these were all commercially beneficial as well.

     After the war the Forum also continued to clamour to participate in the national radio and TV broadcasts that had been the Leafs exclusive domain. Consumer demand to see what was by then the best NHL team in Canada helped make this a reality, and the Habs and Leafs came to share the national broadcast outside their home provinces. (In my hometown, Ottawa, we were still tortured with Leafs games in the 1970s.)

     So it was in the late 1950s and 1960s that all Canadians from coast to coast started to get a regular taste of the success of the Canadiens, and it’s probably from there we can date their emergence as a national team to compete with the Leafs. If someone had done a poll, it would probably be an even higher proportion than today.

Andrew Cohen is quoted as saying “The Canadiens are in many ways emblematic of Canada.” Whether or not that makes them Canada’s team in an era of six Canadian NHL franchises - not to mention men’s and women’s national teams – is up for debate, but in the meantime we should be careful not to simplify their history.

Here Come the Hawks

Here Come the Hawks!
by J. Swayzee

Here Come the Hawks, the mighty Blackhawks
Take the attack, Yeah, and we'll back you Blackhawks
You're flyin' high now, so let's wrap it up
Let's go you Hawks, move off
Now all look out, Here Come the Hawks,
Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here come the Hawks

Here they come movin', weavin', flyin' high and throwin' spray,
Blades flashin' sticks crashin' tryin' for the play,
And the Blackhawks, take control,
There's a shot, AND A GOAL!

Here Come the Hawks, the mighty Blackhawks
Take the attack, Yeah, and we'll back you Blackhawks
You're flying high now, so let's wrap it up
Let's go you Hawks, move off
Now all look out, Here Come the Hawks
Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here come the Hawks

(instrumental)

Here Come the Hawks, the mighty Blackhawks
Take the attack, Yeah, and we'll back you Blackhawks
You're flying high now, so let's wrap it up
Let's go you Hawks, move off
Now all look out, Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks,
Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks,
Here Come the Hawks, Here Come the Hawks, Here (trails off)

Review of CBC's "Hockey: A People's History" - Part 3 (Episodes 5 and 6)

Cognizant of the fact I haven't seen episodes 3&4, some of my general judgments may be off, but here goes....

Episode 5 ("A National Obsession") begins with the story of Gabriel Labbé, a young fan of Maurice Richard, and the frozen outdoor lake/river ice motif seems to be in full swing, but we soon move inside to the NHL arenas to witness the birth of Soirée du Hockey/Hockey Night in Canada. (Of course, there is no mention of American TV, which predated the Canadian by 12 years or so.) While mention is made of the effect of NHL television on junior and senior hockey, this is more or less the last we hear of these levels of play for episodes 5&6, except when referring to the experiences of Herb Carnegie. Carnegie was a black player who starred with the Sherbrooke Saints in the Quebec senior league, and finally got a chance to try out with the New York Rangers in 1948. Readers of Carnegie's autobiography A Fly in a Pail of Milk will be familiar with the story here, a tale of implicit racism that denied Carnegie from a place on the Rangers roster, but the story told in Cecil Harris' Breaking the Ice adds some needed nuance, showing that the Rangers upped their offer to Carnegie twice and he still refused to play in their system. (I would argue that Rangers manager Frank Boucher saw real value in having a black player, which would be a public relations boon in New York City.) As Béliveau says in the programme, some said it was racism, some not. Paul Gross' narration (and the website) imply the former, stating that by the time Willie O'Ree played for the Bruins in 1958, hockey was "the last major North American sports league to integrate." This is somewhat misleading, given the fact that there was never a policy against black players in the major-league NHL (as there was in baseball), and as far as I know, hockey's minor and senior amateur leagues were (unlike baseball) never not "integrated," as shown through Carnegie's own example.

The episode also has some good footage of the Richard riot and takes some time to discuss its symbolic status for French-Canadians of the time. It frames much of the 1950s in terms of the "Howe or Richard?" debate, but I would have like to see a lot more on the decline of senior hockey and the shift of professional teams to the United States. This is relevant to the defeat of the "Toronto" Lyndhursts by the Soviets at the 1954 World Championships, which is given due play as a wake-up moment for Canadian hockey, but it should have also been pointed out that the team was only a Senior B team from East York, and that they and subsequent international representatives were hindered by the lack of support and cooperation from the NHL, not to mention the Canadian government.) BTW There is a nice little discussion about the 1954 World championships on HFBoards here.

If not in Episode 5, then Episode 6 ("The Golden Age") should have dealt with changes in minor pro, senior and junior hockey. Senior hockey was on the decline and minor professional play was moving to the US, and junior became a feeder system for the NHL. None of these trends, especially the latter, came without critical comment. The NHL sponsorship system of sending boys far away from home to play hockey is referenced in the stories of Tim Horton and Bobby Orr, but no mention is made of criticism if the practice from educators, religious groups, amateur hockey officials and others. Instead, we get a clip of Tim talking about his doughnut shops. (Perhaps it also would have been edifying to be reminded how Horton had alcohol and barbiturates in his blood when he crashed his car at 100 miles an hour. But I digress.)
Also, the theme of this episode is the competition for the national allegiance between the Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs, but it bears pointing out that by 1967 these were two of only four professional teams (minor or major) that Canadians could root for, the others having given up the ghost or moved to the US.

I found the story of the resuscitation of women's hockey much more enlightening, especially the story of the Satan's Angels and Montreal Cougars rivalry, and the challenges faced by women and girls to find a place to play. The programme is best on these themes, probably because they require more basic research than the NHL stories, which slip easily into the standard master narrative.

Generally speaking, it seems the closer the series gets to the present the more congruent with the standard mythology it becomes. A historian would say this betrays an approach that emphasizes progress, modernization, the perfection of the game. This is always suspect, if for no other reason that it distorts the perception of the past as an always-coherent positive story, and this in turn affects our perception of the present, and our own ability to criticize and change it. It is not a bad thing to show the Canadian people the many ways they got tangled up in this sport, but they should also show that many others often saw the darker side of obsession, and tried to change it.

Website booboos: [also evidence of Toronto-centrism!]

* “Yonge Bobby Orr” captioned at http://www.cbc.ca/hockeyhistory/episodesummary/06/post/

* “Madison Square Gardens” captioned at http://www.cbc.ca/hockeyhistory/episodesummary/03/post/

Review of CBC's "Hockey: A People's History" - Part 2 (Episodes 3 and 4)

OK, I missed taping these episodes, so I will come back and review them later...

In other news, the CBC and hockey... the continuing story.

Review of CBC's "Hockey: A People's History"

The new CBC documentary series on the history of hockey, Hockey: A People's History, is impressive. It boasts the high production values of its predecessor, Mark Starowicz’s Canada: A People's History, using historical recreations, actors reading period documents, modern day talking heads, and all tied together with narration by Paul Gross. Seeing all the old film and photographs nicely spliced together is a real treat to be sure, but there are some themes that I hope will be brought out more in future episodes.

My first impression was that Episode 1 ("A Simple Game") does a very good job downplaying the various parochial takes on the origins of the game, emphasizing evolution over innovation and the dominance of the game by the elites, not ordinary people. The historical context is set up nicely, especially references to urbanization and industrial aspects (e.g. Starr skates), with a nice integration into the mix of individuals like JGA Creighton and Joe Boyle. The various contributory sports – bandy, shinny, hurley, kolven and football – are referenced, but I do think field hockey deserved at least a mention, especially as the early ice rules owe something to the field sport. Appropriately, I think, scenes of hockey on frozen ponds appear more prominently in the second episode than the first, and this complements the emphasis on the "top-down" development of the organized sport which then influenced the pond game. Less appropriate, and inconsistent, is the initial acknowledgement of aboriginal contributions (through lacrosse and Mi'kmaq stick-making) but later speaking of how “civilization” spread the sport westwards.

Episode 2 (“The Money Game”) is also well-constructed, although I have some more serious criticism here, hopefully not applicable to the later episodes. First, amateurism is given somewhat short shrift as an ideological driver, though I did appreciate the emphasis on power and money as motivations of men like Billy Hewitt and John Ross Robertson who ran the amateur Ontario Hockey Association (a name, by the way, which I did not hear mentioned). But while the players’ perception of owners’ hypocrisy is described as a motive for professionalization, there is no mention of “shamateurism,” the practice of paying amateur players, either discreetly or indirectly through off-ice jobs. Without this context explained, the appearance of the International Hockley League (IHL) in 1904 is given too much weight as a factor that “forced” Canadian clubs to pay their players. More accurately, the IHL alternative encouraged the Canadian clubs to overtly professionalize, but pay-for-play had been going on for years (under the table and often above). The IHL is also, for some reason, the first time that American hockey is mentioned, and I fear this Canadian bias of the series is unlikely to be shaken (Hockey: A Canadian People’s History may be a more accurate title).

Hockey was played in the United States in the same period as it was in Canada, even in its pre-Montreal and unorganized form, and American clubs sprang up just like Canadian clubs in late-nineteenth-century elite social and university circles. It takes nothing away from the Canadian game to mention this, for the simple reason that Canadians had a great deal of influence on the Ivy League and north-eastern establishment clubs, well before Doc Gibson and the IHL. Artificial ice is mentioned in 1911 in the context of the Patricks’ Denman arena, but the technology was American, and was used in the 1880s in American rinks. It may be that the book and materials accompanying the series will explain this, but the television show should integrate the American experience well before 1904. As it is, with the IHL as apparent first example of hockey in the US, the money game with its attendant plebeian aspects might be taken as the predominant American model, a notion that feeds into dichotomous constructions of difference between the Canadian and the American games – communal v. commercial, technical v. violent, natural v. artificial, outdoor v. indoor, ours v. theirs. And it is not only the American story that is ignored. The Stanleys took hockey back to the UK, as did many Canadians later on, and the sport attained popularity well before Canadian clubs deigned to travel overseas to compete (the story that seems to be promised for the upcoming episode 3.)

Speaking of extra materials, I have not seen the books yet, but I did travel through the website, which has a few bells and whistles, but only a few. The “First Person” audio files (with Percy LeSueur and Cyclone Taylor so far) are a nice addition, but the feature “Stories” and “Biographies” are rather brief and selective. I’d to read about some of the people who were not featured in the show. I also hope that they follow up the series with some teaching materials as was done with Canada: A People’s History.

There are a few niggling errors on the website (mainly on the timeline) and since these can be corrected or further explained, I will point them out:

1) The Montreal Amateur Athletic Association at first refused to “hold” the Stanley Cup and only consented to do so in 1894, not 1893.

2) The web authors should decide if the Cup was donated in 1892 or 1893 (they indicate both). The Cup was announced it 1892 but physical donated in 1893;

3) The Cup was never known as the “Dominion Hockey Challenge Cup,” as trustee P.D. Ross announced from the outset that it would be known as “the Stanley Cup.”

4) Challenges for the Cup did not end in 1914, and the NHL did not assume control of the cup in 1926, but the trustees controlled it and seriously considered challenges at least into the 1930s, and challenges were received for years after that (although none were accepted).

5) I would argue the Westmount Arena was not the first arena built for hockey spectators in 1898, but that it was the St Nicholas rink in New York City in 1895, and there seems to be some confusion about the “first” artificial ice rinks in Canada both 1895 and 1911 are indicated).

6) The ice was painted white at Madison Square Garden as early as 1926, not just in 1949, as the timeline indicates, and the show seem to suggest the change came with the advent of Hockey Night in Canada (1952).

Also, as an historian, I am obliged to deplore the lack of any academic historians as talking heads. (If nothing else, they need jobs! ;) ) They are not all tweedy and boring, and some of them can be quite compelling. This is not really a criticism of Michael McKinley and Eric Zweig, who take up the historians’ roles on the show, but while I realize that Wayne Gretzky and Don Cherry will help the ratings, Wayner describing the nature of nineteenth-century hockey strains credibility for me. Much more satisfying is Jean Béliveau discussing the role of the priests in teaching hockey to French-Canadian youths, something Béliveau personally experienced that has analogies to an earlier era. So far, the primary talking heads are McKinley, Zweig, and Bruce Dowbiggin, who have all written on hockey history, with briefer appearances by Alison Griffiths, Jack Falla, Ken Dryden, Ron MacLean, and Guy Lafleur, in addition to Béliveau, Gretzky and Cherry. Why not have some of the historical advisors (some academic historians and some not BTW) appear onscreen? (To give them some publicity, they are: Elizabeth Etue, Russell Field, Bill Fitsell, Ed Grenda, Gilles Janson, Paul Kitchen, George Larivière, Paul Patskou, and Michel Vigneault.)

Initially I feared that the themes proffered by Gretzky (“hockey is our game”) and Dowbiggin (“hockey is a metaphor for Canada”) might overwhelm the whole series. As much as these notions may contain some elements of truth, I was happy to see a good deal of historical detail to contextualize them. At least so far. I also appreciated a line from Paul Gross’ introduction – “we love it, we hate it, we live it” – and I hope this isn’t the last time they allude to some dissenting views. While Hockey: A People’s History is certainly allowed its own point-of view, the acknowledgment of historical conflicts and challenges to the dominant narrative off the ice will enhance, rather than detract, from popular appreciation of how this sport became so important to Canadians. I look forward to more.

(FYI The schedule for the next episodes is here.)

Should Howard McNamara be in the Hockey Hall of Fame?

On the Hockey Hall of Fame citation for George McNamara, it is noted that he and his brother Howard were known as the "Dynamite Twins" during their playing days. They weren't really twins, but if the moniker measured their playing ability, then why isn't Howard also in the Hall of Fame?

The tale of the tape:

* George, a defenceman, had 39 goals and 13 assists over 8 seasons or 138 games (excluding exhibition game totals and his 2 goals in 3 playoff games). That's 0.28 goals per game or 0.38 points per game.

* Howard, also a defenceman, had 47 goals and 17 assists over 11 seasons or 134 games (excluding exhibition game totals and he had no playoff points). That's 0.35 goals per game, or 0.48 points per game.

Since the two often played on the same team, in the same league, and with a similar style, these statistics are probably comparable. If so, the advantage goes to Howard.

Howard was also known for his size (6 feet, 240 lbs - which was HUGE in that era) and for obvious reasons, dominated opponents physically. No evidence on George's dimensions.

Both won the Stanley Cup, but with different teams.

Not much to choose from it seems, so why is only one twin the Hall?

Here's a possible explanation from Frank Selke Sr., who was on the Hall of Fame nominating committee. In a letter to Mike Rodden, sportswriter and former NHL referee, Selke wrote:

"Between ourselves Mike - when George was admitted [to the Hall] Howard's wife told a friend of mine that George could not carry Howard's skates. I asked [Art] Ross and Lester [Patrick] about this and they said, which one was Howard?"

Twins indeed.

Sportswriters

I've always thought there was a need for the study of sportswriting, especially the 1920s and 1930s.

The New York papers are where the trade really flourished, with scribes like Grantland Rice, Red Smith, Ring Lardner, et al. There are several memoirs of this era (Paul Gallico, Stanley Woodward) which are full of tales (some taller than others), and even a oral history by Jerome Holtzman, No Cheering in the Press Box, which chronicles some of the better- and lesser-known writers.

There are some Canadian contributions by Jim Vipond, Jim Coleman, and Milt Dunnell, as well as my favourtie, Down the Stretch by W.A. Hewitt (father of Foster). For a taste, here is an online memoir by Charles Templeton, jack-of-all-trades and master of the same. He has great stories about Mike Rodden, former Globe sports editor, whose papers now reside in the Queen's University Archives. Other journalist papers I have run into include Dink Carroll of The Montreal Star (McGill University Archives), Charles Mayer of Le Petit Journal (Library and Archives Canada) and Harold Kaese of the Boston Globe (Boston Public Library Special Collections). There may be more...

The Prime Ministers and Hockey

The National Post had an article about politicians accepting complimentary tickets to hockey games, which has probably been going on for over a century by now.

The first reference I ever found to a PM attending a game was in Mackenzie King's diary. As I recall he was complaining that Viscount Byng didn't invite him into his box at the Ottawa Auditorium one night when the Ottawa Senators were playing. I'm pretty sure King didn't actually enjoy hockey, but I have no evidence of this, other than the fact that he lived in Ottawa for several decades and the word "hockey" only appears in his diary a dozen or so times. From the time of Baron Stanley, hockey was more of a vice-regal activity it seems; Minto, Byng, Tweedsmuir and others were big fans.

I'm not sure if RB Bennett ever attended any games, but he did give a few bucks to youth hockey teams during the Depression, among his many other donations (see Grayson and Bliss, The wretched of Canada : letters to R. B. Bennett, 1930-1935)

Conn Smythe liked to get the PM to open the season and Maple Leaf Gardens. From his papers, it seems Louis St Laurent couldn't make it most years (I'm sure it was because Smythe was a Tory and caused the King cabinet grief during the war). As soon as Diefenbaker got in, he was right on the ice the first chance he had after being elected in 1957. Dief the hockey fan is there is all his jowly glory in this great piece ("God is Canadian") about the eighth game of the 1972 Summit Series.

Mike Pearson played hockey at Oxford and continued to be a fan but since Smythe never forgave him for replacing the Red Ensign, I'm pretty sure he never dropped the puck at MLG , after 1965 at least (yes, I suppose I could check). I, on the other hand, haven't forgiven him for recommending that hockey be suspended during World War II. (I don't disagree that a strong case could be made to suspend, but Pearson's main argument was that the Americans might be offended if it continued. He didn't seem to realize they were enjoying their hockey just as much as Canadians were....)

Pierre Trudeau was often at hockey games in Montreal, and made sure to make political hay after the eighth game of the 1972 series. I forgot the game was played in the midst of the federal election campaign of that fall, after which the Liberals were reduced to a minority government. Brian Mulroney was often at games (before he was PM and certainly after), and you can catch him in the footage of the '72 series as well.

Clark, Turner, Campbell, Chretien, Martin - no thoughts.

I have read several places that Harper is writing a book on hockey, which I would have to say would probably make him the biggest hockey fan to sit behind the PM's desk (unless Ken Dryden makes the cut). The best article about Harper's hockey writing seems to be Red Fisher's interview, although the New York Times was also interested. (Confirms their stereotypes of "Canooks" I'm sure.) I am curious about Harper's take on Toronto hockey, if and when it ever appears. Fisher at least needs to be educated about how the Canadiens really survived the 1930s and 1940s, and it wasn't about "bringing in the right people" as much as it was kicking out some other people - namely the Montreal Maroons.

Andrew Gilpin - "Old time hockey player"

Today I interviewed Andrew Gilpin, self-described "old-time hockey player" and a member of Canada's 1948 Olympic team, the RCAF Flyers. Andy is still quick-witted and has a fine memory for hockey events, from the age of five until sixty-eight, when he hung up his stick (but not his skates) for good. He grew up in Montreal, around the corner from Doug Harvey, playing with and against the likes of Ken Mosdell, Maurice Richard, and Pat Desbiens, among others.

Born in 1920, Gilpin's path to professionalism was broken by the war but he had a successful career as an amateur playing on RCAF teams in service leagues, alongside many professionals like Paul Platz, Chuck Rayner, Bobby Kirk and others. Gilpin claims the first slap shot he ever saw was from Platz's stick (it wasn't too accurate). Gilpin's high level of play was exemplified by his scoring a hat trick in a game against Rayner. After the third goal the future Hart Trophy winner went after him with his stick.

Gilpin has many stories about the 1948 Olympic experience, team manager Sandy Watson, coach Frank Boucher, player George Mara and others. I hadn't realized that the team had trouble getting out of Czechoslovakia after the Communist takeover in February 1948, an event that occurred right in the middle of their tour of the country! Gilpin's comments were reported on the front page of the Toronto Daily Star of February 28, 1948, certainly one of the first first-hand accounts of the event.

This interview will add to my research on Hockey in the Second World War, a future book project.