Who Was That Masked Man?

“My face is my mask.” replied Gump when asked why he doesn’t wear one.
After winning 4 Stanley Cup Championships in goal with the Montreal Canadiens, two with fellow munchkin Rogie Vachon, Lorne “Gump” Worsley saw the hulkish Ken Dryden coming down the pike and decided to retire. Worsley, however, was quickly lured out of retirement by an offer from the 3 year old Minnesota franchise. So from 1970–1974 the diminutive in-your-face puckish eccentric, nicknamed after the comic strip character Andy Gump, tended goal admirably for the North Stars.

My fellow educator and pick-up hockey cohort, Paul Schroeder, shares this NHL Flashback.

 
Growing up in the Minneapolis, MN area (Canada-lite) in the 1960’s and 70’s, I had the opportunity to attend many North Stars games and also followed them closely on tv.
While I was playing midget hockey, my teammates and I, all of course North Stars fans and wannabees, felt a special sense of pride and pre-pubescent hero worship, in that we had one of only two goalies in the NHL who still tended goal sans mask. That’s as old school as it gets! Gump could barley reach the water bottle on top of the goal. His 5’ 7” 155 lb. frame hardly disturbed half the goal mouth. With his kindly, well groomed open faced head bobbing on top of his kid sized goalie gear, he didn’t exactly project the intimidation of a scar-faced Gerry Cheever mask or the goalie cages of today with their intricately painted carnivals of color, animal fangs, skulls and the like.

While admiring his courage, we couldn’t help but be concerned, knowing how much pain even a puck shot by us kids can inflict. With every rush up the ice from North Stars’ opponents, we were always a little bit scared for Gump, feeling that the next slapshot could be his last save, ever. He was getting on in years and sometimes looked like crazy old Uncle Joe had snuck into the lineup.  His last 4 years in MN he was 40-44 and up close he looked every bit of his 44 years. When a coach once criticized him for having a beer belly, he replied, “I only drink Johnny Walker Red!”

Sure, there are people typing their blogs today on some jury-rigged Commodore 64 or those who routinely play Atari when they could afford X-box 360. The Gumpster could have gone with a mask but why? After 30+ years surviving not wearing one it’s kind of hard to start thinking you should. To him, the object of hockey was to win, and his contribution toward that goal was to stop the puck - a mask would only interfere with that objective. Sure he took a few to the face, most famously a Bobby Hull blast to the forehead that knocked him unconscious. When he first woke up in the hospital he merely said, “Good thing the puck hit me flat!” Alas, even Gump finally acquiesced and wore a mask for the final 6 games of his career, but very few remember that since the previous 800+ games and most photos show his intense impish face focused on the job at hand.

In Minnesota we will always remember Old School Gump Worsley for what he didn’t wear, but it should be noted that he had a lifetime goals per game average of 2.91 and that at age 42 he had a GAA of 2.12 (2nd in the league). He played in that season’s All Star Game (one of 4 in his career). Not bad for someone a few years from getting his AARP card.

Hurling a Shutout

I'm a sports fan and I’m a hockey fanatic although I’ve never painted my face in team colors, I’ve never asked for an autograph and I’ve never camped out for tickets. I did however, wave a rubber chicken and yell eating disorder epithets at goalie Tony Esposito.
For the 1974 quarter finals between the L.A. Kings and the Chicago Black Hawks I ended up with Great Western Forum seats right behind the visiting goalie just above glass level. I actually took a baseball glove as well as the rubber chicken to this game to catch any Dennis Hull or Tommy Williams left wing slap shots heading our way. The Kings who finished their season with an 11-1 drubbing of the Canucks scored only 1 goal in each of their first 2 losses in Chicago (with Esposito playing incredibly frustratingly well in both games.)
As you may remember, this Espo was notorious for vomiting before each game he started. I had always emphatized with Tony, for I had used this zen-like technique in college before many final exams. During the game my fanatical darkside however, took that emphathy and threw it at Espo with venomous jeering, encouraging him to toss his cookies, blow some chunks, puke or to just plain throw up, all the while shaking the rubber chicken trying the distract him during faceoffs. To my dismay, Espo and the Hawks shut out the Kings 1-0 on a Dennis Hull slapshot (which neither I nor Rogie Vachon could catch). My fanatical invectives were totally ineffective and I felt dirty and used for two days. Leading the series 3 - 0  the  Hawks decided to start Mike Veisor in goal for game 4 in L.A. (there were whispers of the helpful revenue one more home playoff game could generate for Chicago). The Kings with a Tommy Williams hat trick beat the Hawks 5-1 to avoid the sweep. The newly revived Kings and the entrepreneurial Hawks flew back to a sold out Chicago Stadium where Espo hurled another 1-0 shutout.