The 1972 Summit Series
A 4 Part Series by Bruce Kish
Brought to you buy Decisive-Action Sports

SUMMIT PART 3:  FIFTY AGAINST THE WORLD

When Team Canada played its first four games at home, it was nothing more than a group of NHL players thrown together.  Petty grudges, simmering from team rivalries, had come to camp with the players along with their equipment bags. Particularly noticeable were the sparks between the Rangers and the "Big, Bad" Bruins.  Adversity, however, combined with the contempt of their fellow countrymen and the international hockey community in general, drew the team together as a cohesive unit. The bonding process began after the charter flight touched down in Stockholm for a brief layover.

Team Canada played two exhibition games against a Swedish national team, taking the first 4-1 and barely escaping in the second with a 4-4 tie. The teams played physically, with the Canadians ruthlessly throwing their weight around and the Swedes retaliating by slashing, spearing, and crosschecking.  Tempers flared and both games were ugly encounters for reasons other than the quality of play on the ice.

After Game 1, the Canadians returned to their hotel, only to find it surrounded by police cars and a crowd of evacuees. Apparently, an anonymous caller had threatened to detonate a bomb.

During the first period of Game 2, Swedish forward Ulf Sterner stabbed Wayne Cashman in the mouth with his stick, very nearly severing the Canadian's tongue. Cashman went to the dressing room for stitches, but no penalty was called.

Team Canada protested, going toe to toe with the officials. Swedish photographers began snapping pictures of the scene, enraging a number of Canadian players who hadn't dressed and began scuffling with the members of the press for their cameras. Local police, indignant at the conduct of the foreigners, called for backup - armed with dogs. At this point, Sinden ordered the team into the dressing room and had the door blockaded behind.

With less than five minutes remaining in the game, a Swede ran over Vic Hadfield. Infuriated, the Canadian arose and attacked the first opposing player he saw, Lars-Erik Sjoberg, smashing his nose with a high stick. As officials herded Hadfield to the penalty box, the Swede arose from the heap into which he had collapsed and began skating a lap around the rink to show off his bloodied nose.  The scene drew angry shouts and hoots from the partisan crowd.

On the following day, photographs of Sjoberg appeared in papers in Sweden and the Soviet Union. Jeers and contempt rang from every corner.  Among the detractors was the Canadian ambassador Margaret Meagher, who had hosted the players at a private party the previous day.

Feeling betrayed, the players drew closer together. Even Brad Park and Phil Esposito, sworn enemies when the Rangers and Bruins played, were going out after practices for dinner. Others felt they no longer represented Canada, but were playing for the group.

"When we were in Sweden, our party - players and coaches and others - numbered exactly fifty," Ron Ellis later recalled. "And we felt it was fifty against the world."

Still, dissension simmered in the rank and file, and players began coming to Eagleson to gripe about the coaching and personnel decisions. At length, he decided that a closed-door team meeting was necessary to clear the air before the team started the second half of the series.

Eagleson coaxed the players to be candid about their emotions, then patiently listened to the tempest of pent-up anger.  At length, he ended the session and put out a warning: "We're in a leaky boat that's going down. If enough of us get to the goddamn oars and start rowing and the other guys start bailing, we're going to make it. But if we start hitting each other over the head with the paddles, we're going down - and we're all going down together. So if you don't want to get to the shore with us, get the hell out of the boat!"

BEHIND THE IRON CURTAIN

On the frigid evening of September 20, Team Canada's charter flight touched down in Moscow. Ambassador Robert Ford met the team as it disembarked and guided it past the green uniformed guards in customs who impassively stared at the visitors. As their ancient bus trekked across town, the players felt alien as they looked out across the cheerless streets at the drab building complexes that loomed in the darkness.

The bus eventually arrived at the Intourist Hotel, a 22-story structure reserved for Western visitors.  By Soviet standards, it was a five-star; by North American, however, it was something closer to a no-frills motel. The players began remembering Frank Mahovlich's warning before the team left for Sweden.

At a bar in Vancouver after Game 4, Mahovlich said that the team should imitate Napoleon's Grand Armee of 1812 and encamp outside Moscow in a tent city. Serge Savard stared at his teammate as if he were crazy and asked why.

"Don't you think they might just start a construction project outside our hotel room at four 'o clock in the morning? Just to disturb our sleep," Mahovlich shot back, not cracking a smile.

"Most of the guys aren't even in by that time," Savard said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

But Mahovlich wasn't pacified. "Don't laugh," he warned. "You don't know what this series means to them for propaganda purposes. They'll do anything.  We should buy some tents."

As the players entered the hotel, they were surprised to see members of their families waiting in the lobby. Also present were scores of other Canadians who had taken advantage of a travel agency's package trip.  In all, 3,000 Canadians would come to Moscow for the final four games. The players' morale drastically improved.

As Team Canada mingled with the families, Sinden settled into his room and poured over the clutter of papers on his desk. The coach unhappily went through a roster, trying to decide on lines and drills to use at the following morning's workout. All 35 players had made the made trip, but

Sinden already knew that he wouldn't be able to give everyone ice time, considering that the team was facing defeat in the series. On the other hand, he thought it was only fair to keep the team together for the trip.  Yet Sinden was tired of pampering egos and losing patience. For the first time, he questioned whether Team Canada could come back in the series.

On the morning of September 21, the Canadians arrived outside the Lenin Sports Complex, site of the Luzhniki Arena where the final four games would be played. The facility, like most of Moscow's architecture, was decrepit and plain.

The arena's 15,000 rickety wooden seats were separated from the rink not by Plexiglas as was common in North America, but mesh wiring which gave the impression of playing in a cage. Pucks rebounding off of it were whipped back into play, some as far as the blue line before hitting the ice.

The ice, nearly 3 inches thick, was considerably thicker than the NHL's ¾ inch. During the course of a game, the playing surface would chip and become ragged. This would take some adjustment for the Canadians.

The visitor's dressing room vaguely resembled a catacombs with its three tiny chambers linked by a narrow, poorly lit hallway. The quarters were Spartan, with metal lockers, wooden benches, bare concrete floors, and showers in an open bay.

At first, the Soviets had considered rotating the four games among different cities, but scrapped the plan because the national team trained and played all its home games in Moscow. The decision, unwittingly, would benefit the Canadians by cutting down on additional travel, plus allow them to get used to the arena.

When the players dressed and hit the ice, Sinden called out the names of the lines he had drafted up the night before. These were the players who would be dressing the following night. The remainder of the squad, which called itself the "Black Aces," would have to wait until after the others finished practicing before getting any skating time.

The names of the New York's G-A-G line were announced, but at left wing, Sinden called for Frank Mahovlich. Vic Hadfield was stunned. He had been left on the bench since Game 2, but now wasn't even going to dress. After brooding for a moment, he skated over Ferguson and complained. The assistant coach pulled Sinden aside and spoke in a low tone.

Sinden, realizing he had a potential problem on his hands, told Ferguson to have Hadfield rotate with the designated left wings. But Hadfield's pride was wounded. What followed next was one of the most infamous incidents of the series.

"I don't have to take this crap," Hadfield remarked to the assistant coach, then skated to the bench, sat down, and began reading a newspaper. Several minutes later, Sinden came over.

"I think you should be out there practicing," he remarked. "Your sitting there like that seems kind of silly."

"I'm not going to," Hadfield snapped back.

"Then you might as well take your stuff off," the Sinden replied. "There's no point in you just sitting there and making all of us look foolish."

As the exchange continued, a number of Soviet players and coaches hovered nearby, watching and listening to the standoff.

After another verbal exchange, Sinden abruptly skated back toward the practice.  Hadfield was not left a graceful way to save face. He left the rink and asked Eagleson to get him on the next flight back to Canada so he could report to the Rangers' training camp. The players' liaison ran the request by Sinden, who immediately assented.

But the coach's gruff handling of Hadfield had turned off several other players.  After the practice session, Rick Martin, one-third of the Buffalo Sabres' French Connection line, asked to be dismissed.

"We'll have you on the first plane out of here," Sinden replied, barely controlling his temper.

Later that same day, Jocelyn Guevremont also asked his leave to return to the Vancouver Canucks. Sinden's response and tone lacked even a thin veneer of civility: "I'd be happy if you get out of here as quickly as you can."

The three players who left Team Canada in Moscow were all but branded as traitors by Canadians back at home. Hadfield in particular was booed everywhere the Rangers played during the 1972-73 season.

For Sinden, weeding out "malcontents" brought relief. As he saw it, those players would not be around to poison the atmosphere in the locker room.  The team could concentrate on playing hockey.  

1972 Summit Series
A 4 Part Series by Bruce Kish