Elegy From Gump Worsley

My dad took me to a couple of New York Rangers games in the early 1960s.  At the time the Rangers were a mediocre entry in the six team National Hockey League (NHL), a league in which only Canadians played.

We had tickets rink-side, protected by the clear plastic barrier.  The Rangers' star was Andy Bathgate, and I remember being startled when he skated by us, only a couple of feet away, opened his mouth and he had maybe three teeth!

The goalie for the New York team was Lorne John "Gump" Worsley.  The Rangers were so bad that when Gump was asked "which team gives you the most trouble" he answered "The New York Rangers".  I also distinctly remember him because in those days goalies did not wear masks so you could see their faces.  Years later when Worsley became the last goalie not to wear a mask he was asked why and responded, "My face is my mask".(1)

 

Gump enjoying a smoke:

Gump had a long career, entering the NHL in 1952 and not retiring until 1974, with his best years from 1964 to 1969 as goalie for the Montreal Canadians.  Gump had some outstanding seasons and developed quite a fan base because of his wit but most of all because he just looked like some guy who came off the street and got put in to be a goaltender.

It's tough playing without a mask.  That's Gump knocked out after taking a puck to the head.

That's not the only time:

When Gump passed in 2007, Canadian band The Weakerthans recorded a tribute which I came across recently and quite enjoyed.  The lyric:

He looked more like our fathers, not a goalie, player, athlete period. Smoke, half ash, stuck in that permanent smirk, tugging jersey around the beergut, “I’m strictly a whiskey man” was one of the sticks he taped up and gave to a nation of pudgy boys in beverage rooms. Favourites from Plimpton’s list of objects thrown by Rangers fans: soup cans, a persimmon, eggs, a folding chair and a dead rabbit. The nervous breakdown of ’68-’69 after pant-crap flights from LA, the expansion, “the shrink told me to change occupations. I had to forget it.” He swore he was never afraid of the puck. We believe him. If anyone asks, the inscription should read, “My face was my mask.”

 

 

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(1)  The first NHL goaltender to wear a mask was Jacques Plante of the Montreal Canadians who, on November 1, 1959, donned a fiberglass mask after suffering a badly cut nose and lip from a first-period shot by, yes, Andy Bathgate of the Rangers. 

This is Detroit goaltender Terry Sawchuk, a contemporary of Gump's.

The Miracle On Ice & Sophia Loren

Whaa? . . . Bear with me and let THC take a moment to explain.

THC's favorite sportswriter is Joe Posnanski.  He is not claiming that Joe is the best sports analyst or the most accurate sportswriter; what he does believe is the Posnanski is the best writer going today on sports.  He's a joy to read, capturing moments and feelings in a way that resonate emotionally with his readers.

His most recent post is about a documentary, Of Miracles And Men, by his friend John Hock and recently shown on ESPN's 30 On 30 series.  It's the story of the underdog 1980 U.S. Olympic's team's stunning upset of the world-dominating team of the Soviet Union.  THC will always remember that moment as will every American who saw it.  The twist is that Hock tells the story, and tells it with sympathy, from the perspective of the Soviet players.  THC recently saw Of Miracles And Men and recommends it to you.  We learn the story of the birth of the graceful Soviet style of hockey and of the men of the 1980 team and what has happened to them since that game.

Joe Posnanski tells us why be thinks that became known as The Miracle On Ice "will always be the singular sports moment in American history".  Along the way he writes of Hock's interview of Seva Kulushkin in which Hock asks how the Soviet sportswriter reported on all of the drama of the game.

Posnanski writes:

Kulushkin asked, “What is the drama?” And then he said this:

“Once a crazy kid kissed Sophia Loren. And he’s telling for the rest of his life, ‘Oh, I kissed Sophia Loren.

Dramatic pause.

“Ask Sophia Loren if she remembers.”

Another dramatic pause.

“Different point of view.”

I love everything about this quote. I love the imagery of it, of course. I love the small but visible bitterness that still lingers in it. I love the unintentional way that he reveals how painful that loss was.

. . .

We are cold-water throwers, all of us.

The Sophia Loren story is the greatest cold-water throwing I’ve ever seen. It’s utterly beautiful and brilliant. The Miracle on Ice was our seminal sports moment, the closest thing to Greek myth that we have. And he compares the U.S. to a kid kissing Sophia Loren. It’s beautiful. And it’s probably true too. The U.S. did kiss Sophia Loren. Only thing is: She remembers. She definitely remembers.

And for those of you of a younger age who may need a primer on the significance of Sophia Loren take a couple of minutes: