It was fifty years ago, Tuesday May 18th 1971 when the Montreal Canadiens broke my heart. Or maybe it was the Chicago Blackhawks who did the heart breaking since they were the team that lost to Montreal in game 7 of the NHL Stanley Cup Finals at the Chicago Stadium. Just writing these words gives me shivers.
At the time, I was ten years old and a Hawks fan since I was five. I never missed watching a road game on TV and since their home games were not on local TV, listening to Lloyd Pettit on the radio was my way to follow the club. This team had stars like Bobby Hull, Stan Mikita, Dennis Hull, Jim Pappin, defensemen Pat Stapleton and Bill White plus ace goalie Tony Esposito. (My personal hero)
The Hawks clawed their way to the best of seven Stanley Cup Finals against the Canadian dynasty that already won more Stanley Cups than any other team. They had accomplished players like soon to retire Jean Beliveau, Henri Richard, Jacques Lemaire, Yvan Courneyer and tough to beat goalie Ken Dryden. Dryden at 6’4 with a large frame and cat like reflexes seemed to come out of nowhere to lead his team to a shot at yet another championship.
My dad and I went to game 1 of this series which was at the Stadium but we watched it on a big movie screen via closed circuit at the Ritz Theater in Berwyn. Landing tickets to see the Blackhawks in person during the regular season was tough and the play-offs were an impossible ticket. The Hawks won 2 to 1 in a second sudden death overtime. How good was Canadian goalie Ken Dryden that game? He stopped 56 out of 58 shots on goal!
The series progressed to a 3-3 tie in games and the Stanley Cup would be decided at the Stadium on May 18th. I was so sure the Blackhawks would win that I missed listening to the first part of the game to attend our elementary school’s annual ice cream social early that night. By the time I got home, my Hawks were leading Montreal 2-0 in the second period. This was a done deal. Not so fast Mick.
Fourteen minutes into the second period Montreal’s Jacques Lemaire took a shot from outside the Hawk’s blue line and Tony Esposito missed what appeared to be an easy save. It was a freak goal. Four minutes later Henri Richard tied the game.
Then heartbreak hit. Two and a half minutes into the third period that rat bastard Henri Richard with the puck on his stick, out maneuvered defenseman Keith Magnuson, got one on one with Esposito and beat him for his second goal of the game. Montreal 3 Blackhawks 2.
I listened to the rest of that third period on my trusty transistor radio in the dark of my bedroom. Every time the Hawks were in Montreal’s end of the rink, I thought for sure they’d tie the game and bring it to sudden death overtime. It wasn’t to be and when the third period ended, I was in shock.
My team, my Blackhawks lost 3-2. It was over. No Blackhawk on that team would take a victory lap around stadium ice while hoisting the silver Stanley Cup trophy above their head. There would be no drinking champagne from that chalice in the locker room. All the spoils of victory went to the visiting Montreal Canadiens. Ow!
A few minutes after this loss, my shock turned to anger and I trashed my bedroom. With tears streaming down my face, I jumped out of bed, turned on a light and tore the many Blackhawk newspaper photos off my walls. I flung Hawks trading cards all over the place, kicked over my desk chair and threw my little handheld radio against the wall as hard as I could. Some plastic chipped off that radio but it was still working as Lloyd Pettit solemnly did the game summary. I was overwhelmed with grief.
This loss stayed with me like an unwanted houseguest that refuses to leave. My mom and I used to frequent a local restaurant where one of the waitresses had Blackhawk season tickets. I often talked hockey with her and the first time we ate there after game 7 she told us how hard the boys tried but just couldn’t pull out the win. This was my first ever sports related heartbreak but it would not be the last. I once read how 1971 Canadian team member Yvan Courneyer talked about running into angry and dejected Hawks fans decades later. He couldn’t believe these fans hadn’t gotten over that game 7 loss. That’s easy for a guy on the winning team to say, harder for us fans to do.
The good news is years later the Chicago Blackhawks won Stanley Cups in 2010, 2013 and 2015. While I was thrilled at these championships, it wasn’t until the 2015 four games to two victory over the Tampa Bay Lightning that I pretty much got over that loss to Montreal. Why then? Because it was the first Blackhawks Stanley Cup title clinched on home ice during my years as a fan. That win happened at the United Center since the old Stadium was torn down in 1994 but I finally felt some vindication.
The bitterness and hurt over 1971 is gone, but a scar remained; faded as it might be. Damn you Ken Dryden, Jacques Lemaire and Henri Richard and damn you, hockey gods for letting me go through such pain at a tender age. I learned then that things don’t always go the way you want. And it sometimes takes nearly forever to get over those losses.
NEXT BLOG- Dealing with the season of exposed feet.