Grant Fuhr
Page 17
The stage was set for Game 7. Coyotes star Jeremy Roenick, who’d missed the beginning of the series with a broken jaw, made it back into the Phoenix lineup. The Blues conscripted their walking wounded, too. Perhaps because it played out in a nontraditional hockey market, between two expansion teams, this Game 7 has not received the credit it is due. It was a classic, and the players and fans who were there that day will never forget it. For almost 78 minutes in the heat of a white-out Phoenix crowd (a tradition borrowed from the franchise’s days in Winnipeg), Grant and Coyotes goalie Nikolai Khabibulin matched saves and kept the scoresheet blank. Blues defenceman Chris Pronger would log over 46 minutes while fellow defenceman Al MacInnis played 40. With shifts down to 30 seconds and lactic acid building in the legs of every skater, it seemed as though no one would ever score again.
Grant:
It was fun. Anytime you go into a Game 7 with Phoenix, they have the white out going, and a full house. I think they thought they were going to win. It had been a pretty offensive series, and you knew it was going to come down to who could make the last save. I found it relaxing that night: it was just one of those games where you feel comfortable right from the start. We got a couple lucky breaks along the way—I had one trickle through me that Jamie Rivers managed to grab just before the line. We just had a good feeling that it was our time to win.
Grant’s instincts were accurate. With just over two minutes left in the first overtime period, a desperate Blues centre Pierre Turgeon reached out his stick to deflect a shot in mid-air from defenceman Ricard Persson. Khabibulin, who had been bracing himself for Persson’s initial shot, was caught moving the wrong way. The puck flew by the startled Coyotes goalie into the net, and the rabid Phoenix crowd was struck dumb. Turgeon’s desperate re-direct had clinched a 1–0 classic win for Joel Quenneville’s squad. “They’ve got a very physical lineup, and we paid the price to win, but we came out of it alright,” MacInnis told reporters afterwards.
The goalie who wouldn’t go away suddenly looked like he was going to be in St. Louis a little while longer—at least into the next round against the powerful Dallas Stars. The revival pleased many in the hockey community. “(Fuhr) has been a treat to watch,” said Toronto coach Pat Quinn. “He’s one of those guys you hope never retires.”
Grant:
Game 7; great hockey game. Not many Game 7s end up 1–0 in overtime. We were pretty happy about that. I was pretty happy. More playoff hockey. This time against Hully and Dallas.
The Dallas Stars, however, were well rested after eliminating Edmonton in a sweep, and many saw Bob Gainey’s team as a potential Cup winner. They showed their form early as the Blues again fell behind in a series, this time two games to none. Again the Blues rallied at home, tying the series at two games each in front of enthusiastic fans at the Kiel Center. As the clubs headed back to Reunion Arena in Dallas, St. Louis was hoping for fate to repeat itself. Against the Coyotes, a Game 5 win on visitor’s ice had been the springboard for the Blues to win the series. Could Grant make it happen again?
This time, however, there were no more miracles in the catching glove of a weary Grant Fuhr. The Stars’ Ed Belfour outplayed him as Dallas scored the first goal in every game of the series. Propelled by Hull, Joe Nieuwendyk and Derian Hatcher, the Stars won the next two games—including a heartbreaking 2–1 OT loss for the Blues in Game 6 on St. Louis ice. Grant stopped 27 of 29 shots in his duel with Belfour, pushing the game into extra time. But Mike Modano’s sudden-death goal sealed the series for the Stars, who went on to win the Cup. As well as he’d played for the Blues that post-season, Grant was left with a hollow feeling in the end.
Grant:
We beat good teams that spring. Then you end up losing, and you hate losing. We got used to winning here. It’s in your blood that way. So it becomes frustrating. But at the same time you know you have a group that could win the next year. It’s frustrating for a month or two and then all of a sudden training camp’s there, and you’re ready to go again.
As the teams shook hands at the conclusion of the series, Grant’s outstanding performance had muddied the waters for the Blues’ goaltending decisions. But once the emotions of the playoffs waned, it became clear that the Game 6 loss to Dallas would be Grant’s last game in St. Louis and, ultimately, the final playoff game in his storied career. After the six wins in the 1999 post-season, his 92 playoff wins ranked him second all-time to Patrick Roy. (He’s since been passed by Martin Brodeur, but Grant is unlikely to be threatened again anytime soon; Marc-Andre Fleury leads the active goalie club with 59 victories.)
After the season, the Blues opted not to re-sign the 36-year-old, banking on a tandem of McLennan and Czech prospect Roman Turek, acquired from Dallas (that duo would claim the Jennings Trophy a year later). Grant, meanwhile, was a free agent for the second time. While many wondered if this would be the end of his great career, one former rival thought there might be a last hurrah in the veteran. Brian Sutter had played for the Blues against Grant when he was on the triumphant Oilers, and had coached against Grant’s Sabres when Buffalo upended Sutter’s highly ranked Bruins in 1993.
Grant:
The last year I thought maybe I’d retire in St. Louis. We were looking at staying there and calling it a day. I’m a boring old guy at this point who likes to be in bed at 10:00, because the miles were ticking off quickly. But Brian Sutter had called St. Louis, and thought maybe it’d be nice if I could come to Calgary. Which, I have to admit, I had reservations about at the beginning. We didn’t know how much we had in the tank left or where we were at.
By 2000, the once-proud Flames were in the midst of seven straight seasons outside the playoffs. The Canadian dollar was also plummeting, and ownership made no secret of needing the playoff revenue. With crowds dwindling at the Saddledome, the Flames needed some name recognition to harken back to the glory days of the Battle of Alberta. If Fuhr could play 50 games and help the Flames squeeze into a post-season berth, it would go a long way to help the franchise. So GM Al Coates and coach Sutter—whose jobs were clearly on the line—decided it was worth the risk.
Grant:
When I started the conversations with Brian, I was coming to Calgary to play as a starter. That’s why I left Los Angeles to go to St. Louis—so that I could play. I couldn’t just sit on the bench. I was never a guy who could play once in awhile. There’s no sense giving up on that part.
I knew all the Sutters. I played against Brian when he was in St. Louis. I played against Brent and Darryl when they were with the Islanders. The twins Rich and Ron were in Lethbridge when I played junior. I’d also been at their different events in the summers and stuff in Alberta, but it was the first time I played for one of them.
Being in Calgary would also bring Grant closer to his mother, Betty, who’d been ill for some time.
Grant:
She’d been sick off and on for three or four years. She had three different bouts of cancer, but the last year she was having a tough go of it. I’d been through that with my dad, in terms of the cancer. His was quick, though. Mom’s was long and drawn out. I spent a lot of time on [Alberta] Highway 2 going back and forth between Edmonton and Calgary.
She’d never really given me heck about the crazy stuff I did, but you could always tell that she wasn’t impressed. There were brief conversations. Then you’d get the, “You should probably be smart now.” Standard issue.
She was in her early 70s when I made it back to Calgary. I spent a lot of time after practice driving to see her in Edmonton. I’d visit with her and then drive all the way back down, go to practice the next day. We covered a lot of miles. I talked to her every day. She was doing okay at that time. It was more the last six or so months that she started to go downhill. She was on and off at times.
And so Grant hauled his body to an NHL training camp for the final time. The changes in conditioning brought on by Bobby Kersee had helped him prolong his career. But there was only so much he could do at this point to stave
off the inevitable.
Grant:
It was interesting to put on that Calgary jersey after all those years. I got a lot of heckling from friends up in Edmonton. But my mom was from Calgary, so it was okay to be a Flame. My old teammate Steve Smith had already been there for awhile—so it wasn’t as big of a deal as it probably would have been earlier. Ten years previously? Not the same.
So I signed in September and headed to camp. That didn’t feel too bad, but I also knew that wear and tear was catching up. I played a fair amount at the start of the year, but then the knee just got to a point where it wouldn’t function anymore. The last year I played was a hard year. I mean, after about the first 10 games, the knee was just sore every day. I spent more time with [physical therapist] Terry Kane in the training room than I did on the ice, so the writing was on the wall at that point. I was always in an ice tub, trying to get the swelling to come out of the knee. That took the fun out of it.
But going to the rink was easy: Brian was fun to play for. Yeah, he screamed and yelled a little bit and you got mad. But it’s no great secret. You put your time in with Brian and do what you’re supposed to do; you never had an issue with him. We had some good guys on that team, like Jarome Iginla, that were good players and were going to beat you. The only guys that ran into an issue were the guys that didn’t want to work 110 percent every day.
Grant was paired with backup goalie Fred Brathwaite, which meant that the Flames had two black goalies at the same time, an unprecedented situation for a full season in NHL history. As always for Grant, the camaraderie of the dressing room was more important than the symbolism of his race. And that camaraderie included mentoring the five-foot-nine Brathwaite.
Grant:
Freddy was a great roommate. I don’t know how much I helped him, but I had a lot of time for him. He never really got a chance to play in the NHL. So that was a little unfortunate. I think Freddy had more talent than people realized, but people at that time wanted big goalies. Everybody thinks you have to be a great big guy to play goalie. They didn’t think Fred was big enough. I don’t think size has anything to do with it. Bernie Parent was not very big, but he was good. I’m not very big. I’m okay. Johnny Bower’s not very big. He was okay. Terry Sawchuk wasn’t a great big man. He was okay. Ken Dryden was the first successful big goalie. He was six foot four, but he was athletic. I think you have to be mobile whether you’re a big guy like Ken or my size.
Watching the younger man starting out while his own career was winding down, Grant could appreciate how far the sport had come since the 1981–82 season when he’d broken in as the first black goalie in league history.
Grant:
Hopefully you leave the game a little better than you got into it. I never thought it was as big a deal as other people did. It means a lot more now, a sense of your legacy. When you sit and think about it and you look at the evolution of the game, I’m fortunate. I’ve become friends with Willie O’Ree, who started it all for us back in 1958. When I was playing I got a chance to meet Pokey Reddick, Mike Marson, Bill Riley, Tony McKegney, Claude Vilgrain—guys like that. I’d always thought that was pretty cool.
For Jarome Iginla, the experience of playing with a role model was special: “I was a big fan of Grant Fuhr. I was a big Oilers fan growing up. I started out playing goal, but there wasn’t enough action.” Because Grant was a goalie, whose face was covered, many thought Iginla was the leader in the fight for recognition of visible minorities in hockey. “I was always the only black kid on my team and [sometimes] I’d get questions from my friends when I’d say, ‘I want to be in the NHL,’ and they’d say, ‘Well, there are no black people or not very many in the NHL,’ and as a kid, you’d wonder why. I think it’d be great to be a role model to kids. If a young black player can look at me and say, ‘He did it, so I can, too,’ I think that’s fantastic. But I hope any young player can do the same.”
Though the locker room camaraderie was good, things were difficult for Grant on the ice. Plagued by his sore knees and shoulders, Grant played just 23 games in a campaign that would see both Coates and Sutter let go at season’s end. Brathwaite took up the slack, posting five shutouts and a 2.75 GAA. By early April, with the Flames no longer in the playoff hunt, Grant confirmed the inevitable. Late in the season, after his old Blues team had eliminated the Flames’ playoff hopes, he told reporters for the second time in his career that he was calling it quits. But this was no contract stunt—this time he meant it. “It’s time,” he told reporters. “The body says this is it.”
Grant:
When you spend more time in the training room than you do on the ice, your number is close. I never wanted to be a backup, so it was time. I was fortunate to play on good teams. Fortunate enough to enjoy the playoffs and know that it’s the one thing that matters: winning. It still goes back to that theory; contracts are great and everything if we want to go by numbers … but then you get to the playoffs and get swept in four games. I’d rather have bad numbers and then sweep somebody in four games. At the end of the day, it’s win or lose, and I’ll take winning every time. It would have been nice to win a Stanley Cup in another city, too—it would have been nice to add three or four more Cups. But we were fortunate enough to win five in Edmonton. You can’t really be greedy and ask for more. It’s a hard trophy to win once, and it’s an even harder one to repeat. Look at Gretz—as great as he was, he didn’t win any more Stanley Cups either. When the greatest player ever can’t do it, it shows how hard it is.
On September 6, 2000, Grant made his retirement official at a press conference in Calgary, stating he could no longer risk irreparable damage to the knee that had troubled him since his run-in with Nick Kypreos in 1996 (he’d had three knee operations in two seasons, including one in March of 2000). “There is nothing like playing this great game, but the body is telling me it’s time,” Fuhr said at the Saddledome presser. “I leave the game knowing that it is the right decision and without any regrets. I will always treasure my time in the National Hockey League. I’m grateful to have played with some great players and some very successful teams.”
As always, Grant was most proud of his winning record. He had rarely put much stock in the new statistical analysis that was overtaking hockey: his focus had been on when he made the saves, not how many he made. He would never claim many of the NHL’s career statistical records for save percentage, GAA or shutouts—but his true impact is there in the win totals, especially in the post-season. At the time of his retirement announcement, his 403 wins were sixth most all-time, behind only Terry Sawchuk, Jacques Plante, Patrick Roy, Tony Esposito and Glenn Hall. (Martin Brodeur, Patrick Roy and Ed Belfour have subsequently passed them all.) The only active goalie with a realistic chance of catching Grant for career wins in the near future is Roberto Luongo (with 373 wins through the 2013–14 season).
Grant’s 868 games played, and a further 150 in the post-season—many on bad knees and with sore shoulders—are a testament to one of the most durable and reliable goalies in NHL history. “Grant was a true champion and one of the best goaltenders to ever play the game of hockey,” recalls Mike Keenan, who saw many of Fuhr’s best games in St. Louis and with Team Canada.
Grant also posted an eclectic resumé of NHL records: he holds the record for longest undefeated streak by a goaltender in his first NHL season (23 in 1981–82), the record for most assists in a single season by a goaltender (14 in 1983–84), the record for most games played by a goaltender in a single season (79 in 1995–96), and the record for most consecutive appearances in a single season by a goaltender (76 in 1996). He holds the NHL record in the current playoff format for greatest win percentage in a single post-season (a 16–2, .888 win percentage in 1988).
Grant’s statistical impact is handicapped by the elimination of the NHL’s tie rule in 2005 in favour of the shootout. Even a 50/50 split of the 114 ties in his career would have vaulted him to over 450 wins (and it’s not hard to see how it might have been closer to 75
percent, given the mighty Oilers and their OT record.)
Grant:
I would have liked to have played a thousand games. We were close to that. Getting 400 wins was a goal: I got there. Four hundred and fifty was the actual goal: I didn’t quite get there … a little shy of that. If we’d had the overtime shootout it might have been a few more losses, but it might have been a few more wins too. We might have got to 450 that way.
Like all retired players, Grant now faced the inevitable transition to normal life. Having watched as many of his friends went through the same process didn’t make it any better. It’s never an easy phase—even for those players who made millions in their careers. Few are completely ready for the lack of structure, the loss of hockey’s highs and lows and the absence of dressing room camaraderie. For Grant, luckily, there remained a chance to stay in the game at the highest level. The Flames new general manager, Craig Button, offered him a goaltending consultant’s job to help the transition and to mentor Brathwaite, a position he held for two seasons.
Grant:
The first couple of weeks after retiring were tough. You’re up in the morning figuring you should be somewhere, and you’ve got nowhere to go. I was fortunate enough that I got to work for the Flames for a little bit as a consultant afterwards, so I still had somewhere to go. That never really transitioned completely, so I left Calgary and went back up to Edmonton for a year. Roamed around, coached my old junior team, the Cougars [now in Prince George, B.C.], and played golf for a year. Then I got the offer in 2004 from my old agent Mike Barnett to go down to Phoenix. He was running the Coyotes, and Gretz was a part owner. [Wayne would become coach in 2005.] Mike asked me if I’d like to go down there to coach the goalies. Hockey and golf; nothing wrong with that. I ended up in Phoenix for the next six years.