The Characters of Old Timer Hockey ...

A hockey buddy in Florida sent me an email asking how many games of old-timer hockey I play in a year. It got me thinking ... I've played with The Flying Fathers in the 1970s, the boys from Kirkland Lake in the 1980s and most recently with the fabulous Halos organization of Georgetown.

Since I retired 19 years ago, I have managed about 220 games a year split between Ontario and Florida -- playing every weekday -- I take the weekends off.

My calculator worked overtime searching for an accurate accounting while I thought about some of the characters I'd skated with.

I'm sending this note to you because you're a player and likely have some very interesting characters from your own old-timer history -- I wonder how they would match up to these ...

Before retirement, I played in numerous tournaments and leagues and did one very special thing that most hockey hosers only dream of ... I was on the ice once a week for 4 years with the NHL OldStars. They needed a weekly tune-up game of shinny before heading out of town for weekend charity games -- the truth is they used me and a few others as pylons but the experience was very, very special.

Before that, I was in a 6 team league.
The year was 1970 and it was called "an industrial league". I'm not sure what industrial meant but today it would be called a "beer league" ... games started at 8 am every Sunday. At the time, in Toronto, ice time was very expensive and hard to come by.

My teammates were all very good players. Cast-offs from competitive leagues around the city, some Jr "A" discards, some American Hockey League throw-aways ... you get the idea. Amongst them, were what I'd call, "characters."

One guy had only one arm. His "other arm" had a small growth that looked like fingers but that arm was only about 8" away from his armpit. He had a special device on the knob of his stick to hold his mini fingers securely in place. He skated like Dave Keon (Hockey Night in Canada play-by-play announcer, Harry Neale once said, "The first time I saw Dave Keon skate, I thought he'd invented it").

But, the one-arm guy was super-athletic and rough and had a slap shot that would make goalies shake -- it was accurate and very heavy. Nobody could figure out how he did it and nobody asked.

Another was my defence partner, Lorne Ashby. His brother, Barry, was a hard rock defenceman for the Philly Flyers. Ya know ... the Broadstreet Bullies. They loved Barry in Philly so much that when he lost an eye during a game, a fan offered him his as a replacement.

Lorne Ashby was an outstanding defenceman and a gifted skater ... maybe better than Barry. At least, that's the story I heard from family members ... "our family was very poor ... Barry looked like the guy who might be able to make it so all the attention and money was spent on Barry ... but, Lorne was the better player and got zero attention".

Incidentally, one of our Sunday morning players was designated to bring a two-four of beers to our games. If they forgot the bottle opener, "Ash" would open the case, one by one, with his teeth. He also shared an unusual ritual with NHL goalie Glenn Hall ... they both had to throw up before every game.

Our industrial league games were rough. Lots of fights. But, we had Mike O'Brien who always arrived at the rink, angry. "OB"

O'Brien guys are always called "OB". 

"OB" never needed an invitation to stand up for a teammate so everyone on our team played a little bigger. Another player, built like a fire hydrant, just returned to Toronto after 4 years in Japan learning something unusual for that time and he earned a black belt in Karate. He was very willing to dance with anyone but his reputation had preceded him and there were never any takers.

And "Elvis".
He looked like "The King" with that huge duck tail hairdo (no helmet, of course) and was the best stick handler I'd ever seen. I'm still talking about him 54 years later so you know what I mean.

And I haven't even mentioned the most famous character of all.

One Sunday morning, I arrived at the rink at 7 for our 8 am game -- nobody there yet. Seven-thirty, still just me. Then, as the clock was moving closer to puck drop the boys started to arrive. Most of them, led by Elvis, had been to a party till very late on Saturday night. Some of them were a little woozy. As a treat for our team, they stole all the party booze ... part bottles of everything they could get their hands on and a case of something nobody had ever heard of ... GATORADE. Remember, it's 1970. They claimed it was a "sports drink full of energy ... a drink that's guaranteed to improve performance"!

We managed to squeak through the first period with no score. By then, everyone was thirsty and started to down full bottles of this magic elixir.

Long story short.
After polishing off a case of 24 bottles of GATORADE.
We won 13 - zip.

I really don't have an ending for my story about old-timer hockey but two characters are still around after 54 years, me and Gatorade.

... oh ya, the "character" I mentioned at the beginning of this essay who asked about my number of games has since retired from playing. He wasn't much of a character ... but a man of character. He went to Vietnam and earned a "Purple Heart" for his bravery and returned to join me on the ice at the Igloo in Florida ... playing with him and our friendship is one of my best old-timer memories ever.