Thank You Ron Ellis.

How many hockey fans if you were to ask them could they remember when they became a fan? Could they recall the exact moment when they were seduced into becoming a lifelong hockey fan?

I can.

After my parents separated back in 1965 my mother and her two sons, I being the oldest at five years of age moved from Montreal. She sought refuge at her own mother’s house, a small bungalow in the Toronto suburb of Willowdale. We had literally no possessions and the three of us shared a small back bedroom in the little white house at 178 Byng Avenue. My mother, a devout Jehovah’s Witness did everything she thought was right for us. However, her religion was always her number one priority and I would spend the next dozen years being subjected to both her overbearing and fanatical new way of life.

I remember it was on a Sunday afternoon. I was in our living room where the big black and white Viking console television set seemed to be always on. On this afternoon there was a hockey game being played. I just stood in front of the television and watched for a few minutes. I remember three things like it was yesterday.

One, a big St Louis Blues logo on the ice. Two, Ron Ellis skated down the right wing and fired a slap shot past St. Louis goalie Glenn Hall. And three, my mother telling me to turn the television off because I had to get ready for our Sunday meeting at the Kingdom Hall.

From that Sunday afternoon onward, I would be a different person. The change was not that drastic and did not happen right away. It happened gradually over the next two years until we finally got our own apartment in a subsidized housing project.

While living at my grandmother's house I came across a big red duffle bag with a drawstring that had a rather large Montreal Canadiens crest on the bag. Underneath the crest were three big letters, C.C.M. The bag was buried in a closet and belonged to my Uncle Richard who also shared the house with us. From what I could gather, it was Richard’s old bag of hockey equipment from his younger days. When he was a teenager he played on the outdoor rink at Mitchell Field, about a ten minute walk from our house on Byng Ave.

My brother and I were forbidden to ever go into Richard`s bedroom, but one day I would succumb to my curiosity. I would disobey my mother and I would ravage that bag while trying on all the oversized equipment. The bag contained old TruLine (TruLine was a name brand sold exclusively at Eaton’s Department Stores in Canada) hockey gear with Gordie Howe’s trademark signature embossed on each piece. 

It had an old musty smell and I tried it all on to see if anything fit. Nothing did and I threw the bag back in the closet. I never touched the bag again and a few years later Richard no longer wanted the bag anymore. He gave his now unwanted bag of gear to me and my brother. Nothing fit either of us, but I remember taking the long black and brown leather gloves.

Back in the late sixties my grandmother would have the Toronto Telegram newspaper delivered daily. The paper became my only link to my newfound world, the hockey world and the National Hockey League. I scoured the sports section every day during the hockey season. I read every article and became fixated on every black and white photo. I was eagerly learning everything I could about the Toronto Maple Leafs.

Hockey and the Leafs were quickly becoming my passion, my religion.

The Leafs played every Saturday night on television back then. However, watching Saturday night games would be next to impossible for me. My grandmother and mother would always watch the television on Saturday nights and the weekly Lawrence Welk Show. During commercials I would quickly change the channel over to the game, but it would never suffice. My grandmother was always worried that I would break the tuning knob or whatever the hell it was called back then. 

There was no remote control in the sixties. 

My bedtime was usually at nine or around the same time good ole Lawrence Welk would wrap up and call it a day.

I attended Finch Avenue East Public School during the years we lived in Willowdale. It was at this school I would be introduced to hockey cards. Now I could carry hockey with me right in my pocket wherever I went. I always had a stack of hockey cards with me. I would study and memorize the player’s stats, bios and nicknames. Did they shoot left or right? What number did they wear? Did they lace up their sweater or did they even have a lace? I would even remember the actual card number. 

I was slowly becoming a walking hockey encyclopedia, but the best was about to come.

The best came in the form of a small blue paperback book titled '50 Years of Hockey, A History of the National Hockey League' by Brian McFarlane. This book would now become my bible. Along with the glossy black and white photos, every famous hockey story from the previous half century had been recaptured in print. I probably read that book from cover to cover a half dozen times. I vividly remember the story of the Richard riot in Montreal. I can never forget that famous black and white photo of the Rocket and his fiery satanic eyes.

Stories of George Vezina, Howie Morenz, Eddie Shore, Gordie Howe, Bobby Hull, and Bill Barilko. I read them all over and over again. It is too bad that during my school years we never had a hockey class. My mother would have been so proud of my straight A’s in at least one subject.

The Toronto Maple Leafs won the Stanley Cup in May of 1967. I don’t really remember anything from that team. It would be the Ron Ellis goal on Glenn Hall in St. Louis the following season which would flip a switch inside my head. From then on my crystal clear recollections would begin, seemingly lasting for the rest of my life. On that Sunday afternoon something was triggered deep inside my subconscious out of which my love for hockey would be born. I don’t understand how it happened and probably never will. I still find it amazing how I can remember my first hockey memory. It was a single goal scored by Ron Ellis who scored 332 goals during his entire career.

I would hazard a bet that even Mr. Ellis would not remember his goal on that Sunday afternoon in St. Louis.

When the three of us finally moved from Willowdale to the projects it would be on the same day that man landed on the moon, July 20th 1969. My mother had accumulated a few more possessions, although most of our belongings were second hand or had been taken from the garbage. My most valuable possessions were stored in just one box. In that box I had my hockey cards, my hockey gloves and my bible '50 Years of Hockey, A History of the National Hockey League.'

As the decade of the sixties came to an end, the sport of hockey was quickly starting to consume my young life. Hockey was everything for me and as my mother started to get more deeply involved within her religion, hockey would become my escape.

Thank you Ron Ellis for providing me the key to allow my escape.

*Update- It was well over fifty years later when I sent this memory to Mr. Ellis. Mr. Ellis messaged me back and said he was happy to have played a part in igniting my passion for our national game.  

Sadly on May 11 2024 Ron Ellis passed away at the age of 79. Mr. Ellis played over 1000 games all with the Maple Leafs during a sixteen year career. He won the Stanley Cup and was also a member of Team Canada '72.

RIP Mr. Ellis.