Third Best Hull (eBook)

Sometimes I wonder how I ended up on the ice in Moscow,playing in the most important game in hockey history. Iwasn't supposed to be there -it was my brother Bobby who was expected to lead the charge against the Soviets in 1972. But he had chosen to sign with the WHA and wasn't allowed to participate, which left me playing left wing with some of the biggest names in hockey in the most important game ever played. I never considered myself a star, and certainly wasn't in the same league as Stan Mikita, the Blackhawks' legendary centre. But Mikita,who was also on the team, hadn't clicked with the style of play Coach Harry Sinden was implementing, so there I was on the ice while Stan watched the game from a bar in Czechoslovakia.ometimes I wonder how I ended up on the ice in Moscow, playing in the most important game in hockey history. I wasn't supposed to be there -it was my brother Bobby who was expected to lead the charge against the Soviets in 1972. But he had chosen to sign with the WHA and wasn't allowed to participate, which left me playing left wing with some of the biggest names in hockey in the most important game ever played. I never considered myself a star, and certainly wasn't in the same league as Stan Mikita, the Blackhawks' legendary centre. But Mikita, who was also on the team, hadn't clicked with the style of playCoach Harry Sinden was implementing, so there I was on theice while Stan watched the game from a bar in Czechoslovakia. The series had gone through its distinctive highs and lows, but by the eighth and final game, I knew we could win. The team, which was pared down from its initial 40 players to a more consistent lineup numbering around 20, was playing together as a group. We were united, though things hadn't exactly been smooth. Before the final game there was already a controversy. Each team had the opportunity to pick the officials for certain games, and in the final it was our choice. The Soviet officials told us the ref we'd picked was sick and that we were going to get Josef Kompalla, a West German referee who had been brutal in the sixth game. But the team received a boost the day of the game when a telegram, several inches thick, arrived from Canada. It just kept rolling out. Up until that point, we had no sense of our immense Canadian support. The team, after all, had been booed by our own fans following the loss of Game Four in Vancouver. Besides, all we had was Russian television, which seemed to focus on the exploits of Lenin. We knew the games were being televised, but we didn't know the impact they were having in Canada. In fact, Canada seemed distant when we were in Russia. Moscow itself was the very definition of a culture clash. The first day we walked into Luzhniki Arena, where the Summit Series games were played. There were still construction workers finishing the arena. In the stands a welder was working on something, and I decided to walk over to ask what he was doing. When the shield was flipped up, I realized the welder was a woman. I remember thinking that it was the first time I'd ever seen a female welder. Likewise, when we'd go into the dressing-room and have a shower, there was a lady who stood nearby and handed out towels. Handing towels to naked hockey players wasn't a big deal to her, as she was obviously in her late sixties or early seventies, but it was really strange to us. I always dressed beside Pit Martin and Jimmy Pappin before Blackhawks' games. As I got ready for the final, I found myself dressing beside Rod Gilbert and Jean Ratelle, who were my linemates for the final few games. I felt relaxed. I knew I was playing with two great players and we were