life.
Harry Sinden, our coach, came into the dressing room and conferred with him. The doctor told him in no uncertain terms that I had to sit out, at least for the rest of that game.
“Harry, don’t do this to me,” I pleaded. “I want to play, I’ve got to play.”
Harry was a good coach and a responsible man, and he didn’t want to risk my health any more than the doctor did. But when he saw how adamant I was about getting back into that game and the series, he relented.
“If you really want to play, I’m not going to stop you,” Harry said. And I was back out there for the next period – not only for that game, but for the rest of the series.
Now, again, I have to emphasize: this was 1972, when we knew basically nothing about head injuries, and we were in a dressing room in Russia to boot, so there sure wasn’t going to be any advanced medical screening. So … back on the ice I went. There is no way that I, or any other player, would be let back on the ice under those circumstances today. No way. Does that make my decision wrong? Not in my mind. There was nothing that would keep me out of that series, and since the true dangers of being concussed were not known, I felt then – and still feel now – it was the right thing to do. Fortunately for me, despite the massive pounding headache I had for the rest of the game, I suffered no real long-term effects – at least none that I am aware of! I was lucky, I guess, that none of the six concussions I sustained resulted in any permanent damage. A lot of players have had head injuries that shortened their careers, as we all know. As it is, I can afford to joke about it – I tell everybody I’d be a lot more intelligent than I am today if I hadn’t had six concussions and cancer. My illnesses have given me a good excuse for everything!
But all kidding aside, my main point is that it is not hypocritical to think differently about a serious issue in retrospect. Changing your mind isn’t a sign of hypocrisy, it’s just a sign that maybe you’ve gotten a little wiser over the years. The great Muhammad Ali once said that the man who sees the world the same at sixty as he did at thirty has wasted thirty years of his life. That is very true.
Despite our gaining a 4–1 advantage, the Russians came right back. They scored two goals eight seconds apart and wound up scoring four straight goals in ten minutes with Vladimir Vikulov notching the game-winner at 14:46 of the third period, breaking in alone and beating Tony Esposito. Tony slammed his stick on the ice in disgust, and we left the ice wondering how we could have let that game get away, a 5–4 loss.
People look back on this now and wonder how we could have bounced back from such a devastating loss. But as bad as that loss was, there were a lot of positives from that game. There were three thousand crazy Canadian fans in the stands cheering us on, for starters, and that warmed our hearts. We had begun to think the country had abandoned us after the debacle in Vancouver, so that was encouraging.
The refereeing wasn’t that great once again, but we had managed to take a three-goal lead twice with it, so we knew it was something we could overcome. Alan Eagleson was doing everything he could to look after our needs there, and although the Russians were in control in their own country, Al kept them honest and always had our backs. We never forgot him for that.
Phil Esposito was an incredible leader for us too. Phil had a remarkable NHL career, but in my mind he was never betterthan he was in that series in 1972. He played a ton, he led by example, he made the big plays, and he really willed us to win. Even the Russians took to calling him “the man with the big heart.”
Phil was an outstanding player for us in that series. He scored seven goals in that eight-game series, a fact I think is sometimes overlooked. We had four assistant captains on that team, and he was one of them, but right off the bat it
Harry Sinden, our coach, came into the dressing room and conferred with him. The doctor told him in no uncertain terms that I had to sit out, at least for the rest of that game.
“Harry, don’t do this to me,” I pleaded. “I want to play, I’ve got to play.”
Harry was a good coach and a responsible man, and he didn’t want to risk my health any more than the doctor did. But when he saw how adamant I was about getting back into that game and the series, he relented.
“If you really want to play, I’m not going to stop you,” Harry said. And I was back out there for the next period – not only for that game, but for the rest of the series.
Now, again, I have to emphasize: this was 1972, when we knew basically nothing about head injuries, and we were in a dressing room in Russia to boot, so there sure wasn’t going to be any advanced medical screening. So … back on the ice I went. There is no way that I, or any other player, would be let back on the ice under those circumstances today. No way. Does that make my decision wrong? Not in my mind. There was nothing that would keep me out of that series, and since the true dangers of being concussed were not known, I felt then – and still feel now – it was the right thing to do. Fortunately for me, despite the massive pounding headache I had for the rest of the game, I suffered no real long-term effects – at least none that I am aware of! I was lucky, I guess, that none of the six concussions I sustained resulted in any permanent damage. A lot of players have had head injuries that shortened their careers, as we all know. As it is, I can afford to joke about it – I tell everybody I’d be a lot more intelligent than I am today if I hadn’t had six concussions and cancer. My illnesses have given me a good excuse for everything!
But all kidding aside, my main point is that it is not hypocritical to think differently about a serious issue in retrospect. Changing your mind isn’t a sign of hypocrisy, it’s just a sign that maybe you’ve gotten a little wiser over the years. The great Muhammad Ali once said that the man who sees the world the same at sixty as he did at thirty has wasted thirty years of his life. That is very true.
Despite our gaining a 4–1 advantage, the Russians came right back. They scored two goals eight seconds apart and wound up scoring four straight goals in ten minutes with Vladimir Vikulov notching the game-winner at 14:46 of the third period, breaking in alone and beating Tony Esposito. Tony slammed his stick on the ice in disgust, and we left the ice wondering how we could have let that game get away, a 5–4 loss.
People look back on this now and wonder how we could have bounced back from such a devastating loss. But as bad as that loss was, there were a lot of positives from that game. There were three thousand crazy Canadian fans in the stands cheering us on, for starters, and that warmed our hearts. We had begun to think the country had abandoned us after the debacle in Vancouver, so that was encouraging.
The refereeing wasn’t that great once again, but we had managed to take a three-goal lead twice with it, so we knew it was something we could overcome. Alan Eagleson was doing everything he could to look after our needs there, and although the Russians were in control in their own country, Al kept them honest and always had our backs. We never forgot him for that.
Phil Esposito was an incredible leader for us too. Phil had a remarkable NHL career, but in my mind he was never betterthan he was in that series in 1972. He played a ton, he led by example, he made the big plays, and he really willed us to win. Even the Russians took to calling him “the man with the big heart.”
Phil was an outstanding player for us in that series. He scored seven goals in that eight-game series, a fact I think is sometimes overlooked. We had four assistant captains on that team, and he was one of them, but right off the bat it
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