Jacques Plante Page 3

  In the third minute of play, Jim McFadden, the top scorer for the Hawks, broke away from the Habs defence. Spurred on by the screaming fans, he tried a feint. Jacques saw it coming and stopped the puck. Thirty seconds later, to the surprise of everyone in the Stadium, he left his crease to retrieve the puck and passed it to the young Canadien defenceman, Dollard St. Laurent. Jacques had set the tone for the match.

  He felt better already. In Chicago and anywhere else in the hockey world, the rink was his territory. He was part of the show, and took his cue as one of the star actors.

  Jacques Plante excels in other sports besides hockey, especially baseball.

  1. Cercueil, which means “coffin” in French, is a mild, rather archaic expression that Jacques Plante used often, favouring it over religious swear words or obscenities.

  3

  Far from Home…and from the Nets

  During the first games of the 1947–1948 season, the fans at the Quebec Coliseum were avidly cheering for the Citadels, the Junior League team that they supported throughout the year. It was a mediocre team with a weak defensive line. Luckily, this year there was a talented rookie who showed great promise: Jacques Plante, the goalie with the tuque on his head. He was the player who limited the worst of the damage. But could he take the Citadels to the finals?

  Plante was spectacular at blocking difficult shots, but it was his practice of roving from the net that captured the fans’ imagination. Several times during every game, they would rise from their seats, holding their breath, as Jacques, nicknamed “the Rover,” left the net to retrieve a loose puck and pass it to one of his teammates. One evening, Jacques, who unfailingly rose to a challenge, even jumped backward over his net to get a puck that had stopped behind the goal cage, and did it successfully. The fans could hardly believe their eyes; they applauded thunderously before they settled down into their seats again, their hearts beating in excitement. With this kind of derring-do showmanship, Jacques Plante was already an expert in giving the audience their money’s worth in thrills and chills.

  Fans with a more progressive outlook declared that he was a genius, while the more conservative partisans grumbled doubtfully. But no one could remain indifferent to his revolutionary style, which was as effective as it was spectacular.

  Some amateur managers loudly advised him to stay in the net. The goalkeeper, concentrating as usual on what was happening in the neutral zone, could hear them. But he knew that as soon as another loose puck carne into the home zone, he would be impelled to skate out of the goal crease to avert the danger.

  Sometimes, it was only to get a puck that was shot from far down the ice into the corner. But what made people nervous was when Jacques would go even farther out of his net to race an opponent to the puck – an opponent who could skate faster and was less encumbered than he was. Despite his heavy equipment, Jacques almost always carne out the winner in these contests.

  At the Coliseum, this kind of thing had never been seen before – neither in Quebec City nor anywhere else where organized hockey was played. It was a radical departure from the orthodox view that the goalkeeper must stay in his net and let his teammates recover the puck. But this young goalie had analysed all the facets of the game and had coolly reached the logical conclusion that as long as he controlled the puck, the opponents could not shoot at his net. In his own special way, Jacques brought sparks into the atmosphere.

  Many of the fans obviously thought that it was largely a matter of grandstanding. But if they had been able to see the game from the goaltender’s point of view, they would have understood why he did it. Jacques never left the net just to amuse himself, or to tease the crowd. His actions were based strictly on a strategy of self-defence: he was simply saving his skin – and his career.

  From the very first practice of the season, Jacques had carefully observed his defencemen. He knew that one of them couldn’t skate backwards, one never shot the puck past his own blue-line, one could only turn around in one direction, another was strong but slow on his feet, and so on. If he didn’t want to find himself in trouble all the time and have to continually duel alone with opponents who had been allowed to approach the nets unimpeded, his only choice was to get right into the game and to rove all over his zone.

  In spite of the heart-stopping moments that he gave them, the Citadels fans could not resist going to see the sensational goalie in action. Jacques became the star attraction of the season, and, according to sports-writers, “the hottest prospect in the League.” That year, with 22 games played at home, the Citadels attracted a record number of more than 100,000 spectators.

  By the season’s end, Jacques was playing so well that the Citadels beat the Junior Canadiens in the finals. Sam Pollock, responsible for developing new players for the Montreal Canadiens, was impressed. “It was Jacques Plante who beat us,” he confided to a newspaper reporter.

  It was true. Jacques was even named the most valuable player – by far – on his team.

  Canadiens manager Frank Selke was now convinced. He wanted Jacques to be part of the organization, unconditionally. He knew that the Toronto Maple Leafs had already included Jacques’ name on a list of possible recruits. He also knew that Roland Mercier, the Rangers scout, was doing his best to entice the young Cerberus to play in New York.

  “You’ll be much better off with us,” Mercier told Jacques. “Think about it. In Montreal, the Canadiens already have Bill Durnan. And there’s the Royals’ Gerry McNeil, just itching to put on his pads. He’s only a little older than you and he still has a long career ahead of him.”

  But Jacques hesitated. Could he possibly turn down the possibility of playing for the Montreal Canadiens? He had always imagined himself in red, white and blue…

  “With Toronto, it would be just as hard,” continued the wily Mercier. “They’ve won the Stanley Cup four years running. Turk Broda is at the peak of his form. With us, there will only be Chuck Rayner to dethrone.”

  Jacques needed time to think these arguments over.

  During the two years that he played for the Citadels in junior hockey, Jacques, with the help of the enthusiastic hockey lovers of Quebec City, was steadily gaining confidence in his abilities, and frequently wondered if he shouldn’t try his luck with a big league team other than the Montreal Canadiens. He carefully studied the sports pages in the newspapers. He reflected, while cutting out pictures of his idols to put in his scrapbooks.

  The heroes preserved on these pages were the great athletes of the day: wrestling champion Yvon Robert; the two right-wingers, Maurice Richard and Gordie Howe; Mickey Mantle, smiling on the day he hit a phenomenal 200-metre home run; Terry Sawchuk, the goaltender of the AHL Indianapolis Caps, when he was named outstanding rookie of the 1948–1949 season; boxers Joe Louis, who still struck fear into the hearts of his rivals, and Marcel Cerdan, who had just died in an airplane crash. Interspersed among these sports giants were illustrious figures from the entertainment world, including French actor Bourvil, whose humour Jacques loved, and Hollywood’s latest version of Frankenstein!

  Jacques filled other scrapbooks with newspaper clippings of his own exploits in hockey and in the other sports he practised: winning the Player of the Year Award in the Shawinigan Industrial Softball League in the summer of 1948, and his successes as a player in the Lévis Baseball League in the summer of 1949.

  Jacques loved all sports and was insatiably curious about life. But he never wavered from his main ambition: to play for the Habs, the team revered by all French Canadians. He was reluctant to move far from the heart of the hockey world. Besides, his command of English was not yet solid, and he had just married Jacqueline Gagné, whom he had met in Quebec City in October, 1948.

  Frank Selke contacted Jacques again. It was taken for granted that the best hockey players from Quebec belonged to the Montre
al Canadiens. Mr. Selke made it a point to continue this tradition.

  Chicago, April 4, 1953.

  After six minutes of play, Dickie Moore made a brilliant pass to Bernie Geoffrion, who found himself alone in front of the net. Al Rollins made the save, but Boom Boom managed to reach the rebounding puck and tipped it past the Hawks’ goalie.

  A few seconds later, referee Red Storey was obliged to halt play when Tom Johnson was hit by an egg. The Chicago fans were throwing down eggs, paper airplanes, coins, and water bags. They imagined that by imitating the Canadiens fans at the Forum, they would “egg” their team on to victory. It took the arena maintenance workers a considerable time to clean off the ice.

  Leaning on the crossbar of his net, Jacques Plante was soaking in the atmosphere of fierce competition that reigned among NHL teams during the playoffs. The young goaltender was feeling better every minute that passed. He was always at his best when the challenge was difficult.

  4

  Behind the Bench with the Habs

  Frank Selke was like a father to many members of the Canadiens hockey club. He had close relationships with his best players. He also possessed the consummate art of making the team understand the reasons behind his decisions. This man quickly realized that Jacques Plante was no ordinary goaltender. In Selke’s view, Jacques was not only spectacular in the nets but was also a very ambitious, intelligent young man. He had no doubt that the goalie would make his mark in the major league; Jacques was clearly a winner. On August 17, 1949, the Habs’ general manager went straight to the point: “Jacques, we believe in your talent, and we want to see you get ahead. You’re too old to play in the Junior League, so I think you’d better stay with us.”

  In September 1948, Jacques Plante is called by General Manager Frank Selke to attend the Canadiens training camp.

  Jacques wasn’t naïve – he didn’t believe for a minute that he was being offered the position of number 1 goaltender for the Canadiens. Although Bill Durnan was thirty-four years old, he had just won his fifth Vézina Trophy in six seasons. He had posted ten shutouts, setting a record with four consecutive shutouts. That meant that he had minded the net for 309 minutes and 21 seconds without letting the other team score. On a slightly lower level, Gerry McNeil was making a brilliant showing for the Royals. Where would Jacques Plante have fit in? But Selke was an old hand at cards and knew when to play his trumps.

  “I’ve decided that Gerry will play for Cincinnati so that he can get to know the players in the American League. You’re going to take over for him with the Royals.” And, convincing negotiator that he was, Selke added, “You’ll be paid $4,500 for the season, plus $500 for practising with the Canadiens.”

  For a young man whose greatest pleasure was to have pucks shot at him, the offer was attractive – all the more so because this arrangement would allow him to satisfy his insatiable curiosity, develop his playing skill, measure his capabilities, and display his talent. What more could he ask? Every day, he would be measured against the best goalie on ice, Bill Durnan; he would be trying to block shots by the some of the best players of the bleu-blanc-rouge machine, including Maurice Richard and Elmer Lach; and at the same time, he would be playing regularly in the Quebec Senior Hockey League.

  It was a gift on a Silver platter that Jacques could hardly refuse. Frank Selke, for his part, had finagled yet another masterful deal: while keeping the best goalie in the league on his team, he was also keeping the best future goalie at his beck and call.

  It did not take long for Jacques to come into his own with the Royals. From the very first games, sportswriters realized that he not only performed his job extremely well but that he also had fresh ideas and expressed them with great conviction. From the beginning, Jacques Plante was a goldmine for the press.

  In the Montreal Gazette of October 15, 1949, sports fans read:

  The Royals are solid with young Jacques Plante stepping into the shoes left vacant by Gerry McNeil. Plante, who was all-star goalie with the Quebec Citadels last year, is considered the third-best goalie in the Canadiens’ vast hockey organization. He is definite major league timber…

  And right from the start, Jacques’ name was in the headlines:

  La Presse, October 17, 1949:

  THE SENIOR LEAGUE ROYALS OPEN

  THEIR LOCAL SEASON WITH A

  VICTORY OVER OTTAWA

  Jacques Plante was brilliant in the nets.

  Eleven days later, in La Patrie:

  THE ROYALS WIN THEIR SECOND

  VICTORY IN TWO DAYS.

  Jacques Plante: extraordinaire!

  Into the first month of the season, on October 28th, Jacques was named “Star of the Week” by La Presse, an honour usually reserved for NHL players.

  A TIP OF THE HAT TO THE STAR

  OF THE WEEK: JACQUES PLANTE

  We had to delve into the ranks of the Senior League this week to find the athlete who deserved the honour of the Tip of the Hat. More specifically, we had to go to the Royals camp to find our hero. He wears a tuque, a forgotten ornament in the game of hockey since the days of Georges Vézina. His name is Jacques Plante.

  This young man excelled in the two victories won by his team away from home on Wednesday and Thursday evenings. It seems that, by his prowess, the young Quebecker will make us forget about Gerry McNeil’s departure for Cincinnati. So, again we say “Bravo!” for his masterful job in the Royals’ net.

  That year, Bill Durnan won his sixth Vézina Trophy. A record – one that Jacques would store in his mind. He was aiming for even greater heights.

  Jacques was overwhelmingly curious, and when he was not on the road with the Royals, he loved to hang around the Forum, especially when the Canadiens’ opponents were practising before a game. The Detroit Red Wings did not recognize the young man sitting in the stands behind Terry Sawchuk’s cage on some of those mornings. Jacques would observe the star goalie’s every move: the famous crouch that Jacques had already adopted and which allowed him to keep sight of the puck at all times, even when a scramble occurred in front of the net; Sawchuk’s way of positioning the wide blade of his stick to take up as much space as possible; his lateral slide to intercept a shot with perfect timing.

  During his first season in the NHL, Terry Sawchuk had worked wonders. He had posted shutout after shutout, maintaining a goals-against average of under 2 per game. He had won the Calder Trophy, awarded to the outstanding rookie of the year, and had missed winning the Vézina Trophy by a single point. Terry Sawchuk would continue to perform miracles and would take the Red Wings to win the Stanley Cup that year.

  Still relatively unknown, Jacques Plante progressed with stubborn tenacity and tireless enthusiasm.

  In their practice sessions, the Canadiens often played against the Royals, at a time when Maurice Richard was about to become the highest scorer in hockey history. Jacques soon understood why the Rocket was able to score so many goals: during practices, as much as in the games themselves, he viewed the goaltender as an enemy to be defeated, at any cost. The Rocket never shot the puck with anything less than his full strength: he always shot to score.

  When Elmer Lach went to retrieve the puck in the left corner of the offensive zone and pass it to his right-winger, the Rocket, Jacques would slide to his left, and Maurice would invariably shoot into the right-hand corner of the net. One day, Maurice took the time to explain. “It’s quite simple. When I get a pass from the corner, I know that you’ll slide to the opposite side. Normally, you’d have a better chance of stopping the shot that way. But I aim for the place you were when the pass was made. Because you’re already into your slide, I usually get it in.”

  This strategy was tailor-made for Richard, who usually shot from the left because it gave him a wider angle. While Jacques was digesting what Maurice had said, the legendary right
-winger was silent for a moment, then chuckled. “Frankly, Jacques, I shouldn’t give you any advice. I never really know how I’m going to shoot the puck. So, ask yourself: if I don’t know where I’m going to aim until the last second, how do you expect the goaltender to know? That’s why I score so many goals.”

  Jacques possessed the patience of truly curious people. He never passed up an opportunity to improve his goaltending skills.

  His popularity increased with every game. His job with the Royals took him all over the province of Quebec, and in every town, his daredevil style and his spectacular saves were a prime attraction. Jacques was developing along with several other young players who were also waiting for their big chance to break into the NHL. There was the speedy Dollard St. Laurent, a defenceman who was always quick to go on the offensive when the occasion arose, and there was Dickie Moore, the left-winger who, people said, had a compass in his head.

  Frank Carlin, the Royals’ coach, had nothing but praise for his goaltender, as Jacques had built up a big lead over all the rival teams. Toe Blake, who coached the Valleyfield Braves at this time, also took note of his astonishing performances. Whether it was in Quebec City, Chicoutimi, Shawinigan, Sherbooke, or Ottawa, Jacques Plante drew large crowds. He shared the spotlight in the Senior League circuit with another exceptional talent: Jean Béliveau, who played centre for the Quebec City Aces.

  The more Jacques’ prowess carne to the fore, the more press reports were dedicated to him, particularly in the Montreal dailies. In La Presse, Maurice Desjardins, the columnist who wrote a feature called “Tous les sports,” revealed an aspect of the goaltender’s personality that few people were aware of: