Against All Odds

by P. J. Naworynski

Mary Rose Guzzo and the estate of Pat Guzzo

  George Mara.

  Mary Rose Guzzo and the estate of Pat Guzzo

  CALLING IN THE BIG GUNS

  05

  In the run-up to Christmas, the men on the RCAF Flyers hockey team continued their twice-daily practices at the Ottawa Auditorium as new recruits came and went. With one day off for Christmas, the boys were back on their blades the very next day. Bolstered by the five new players acquired from the Burghs, there was a contagious new spark in the lineup and an obvious and pleasant sharpening up of the team’s overall play in practices. Lines were getting stronger, and the men were progressively jelling into a cohesive team. The warriors like Dunster, Brooks, and Forbes had an instant connection. Although they hadn’t seen action together in the same units overseas, their shared experience provided a concrete foundation for a bond to take root and grow between the men with each passing day.

  The improvement in play was encouraging to Buck, Frank, and Sandy, but with less than two weeks to go before departure day for Europe, they still had holes to fill, and they desperately needed a few more available, accessible, high-quality players. In order to assemble the best possible squad, Sandy and Frank were going to have to make some amendments to the original concept of an exclusively air force team. Using Buck’s NHL connections, they contacted four of the top minds in hockey who were currently operating at the highest level—Frank Selke, senior general manager of the Montreal Canadiens; Jack Adams, general manager of the Detroit Red Wings; Walter Brown of the Boston Bruins; and Buck’s brother Frank Boucher of the New York Rangers.

  If anyone could identify untapped resources of amateur firepower that could fulfill the Flyers’ needs, it was these four men. They had their collective finger on the pulse of all up-and-coming hockey talent across the nation. They unanimously encouraged the Flyers’ management to go after three guys they had on their radar—Wally Halder, George Mara, and André Laperrière. CAHA executives were 100 percent in agreement with the recommendations.

  Wally Halder and George Mara were both working in business in Toronto but moonlighted as high-scoring forwards with the Barker’s Biscuits team in the Canadian Food Products division of the Toronto Mercantile League. And André Laperrière was a young, strapping defenceman in his second year of studies at the University of Montreal and playing on their hockey team in the intercollegiate hockey league. All of them were amateurs, and all of them had caught the attention of the big guys in charge of the big leagues.

  Without question all agreed that Wally Halder was one of the best amateur hockey players in Canada not on contract with any of the big teams, although he could have played for virtually any of them. He was a big, strong, versatile, extremely gifted athlete with brains.

  Born in Toronto on September 15, 1920, Wally was from a well-to-do family. It seemed that whatever Mr. Halder put his mind to, he could accomplish and then some. While studying at the University of Toronto, Wally was captain of and leading scorer for the Varsity Blues hockey team. He was also the national senior doubles tennis champion and a swimming and diving instructor.

  On the ice, Wally was tough and fiercely competitive. A very fast skater, he also possessed an innate ability to stickhandle, read plays, and deliver a blazing shot with impeccable accuracy. At 185 pounds he was rock solid, hard to hit, and equally at ease operating as either a sniper on a forward line or a stay-at-home playmaker engineering the action from the blue line on defence.

  During the war, Wally had signed up as an officer in training with the Royal Canadian Navy. He was an outstanding recruit and was voted by his peers to “receive the cuff links.” This was a time-honoured award that recognized an all-around recruit who exhibited leadership skills, excellent aptitude in his studies, and enthusiasm for the unit. Wally was a natural-born leader who was friendly and jocular. He played all out, all the time, but was recognized as a guy who played the game cleanly. Although big, strong, aggressive, and rough, he never received a penalty throughout his entire time on the ice with the University of Toronto.

  Wally and his good friend from the navy George Mara both played for navy teams while they were stationed in Canada and overseas during the war. When they returned home, both men were offered tryouts with the New York Rangers. Both impressed the pants off Rangers coach Frank Boucher, and both were offered lucrative no-trade, no-cut contracts to play for New York. They declined the offers, opting instead to stay in Toronto, where they could pursue their business careers and play for Barker’s Biscuits in front of thousands of fans at Varsity Arena.

  While many young men would have jumped at the opportunity to play in the NHL, Wally and George were from well-educated, well-connected backgrounds. They loved playing hockey, but a life in business offered a stable future and greater financial opportunities. The constant travel that was part and parcel of being an NHL player may have also contributed to their disinterest in a pro career. Perhaps they undertook the NHL tryouts simply to test themselves, to see if they could cut it against some of the best in the game. Whatever their reasoning, both men possessed the skills to play professional hockey at the highest level but had chosen to pursue more lucrative careers in business instead.

  Like Wally, George Mara was born into a family of privilege in Toronto. George’s father, William Mara, ran a very successful business as an importer of wine and liquor. The Wm Mara Company was reputed to have the largest wine vaults in all of Canada. George’s dad had also been a star football player with the Toronto Argonauts until he broke his ankle. His natural athleticism, leadership skills, and streak of independence clearly trickled down to young George.

  While attending Upper Canada College, George was captain of their Junior B hockey team. At fifteen, he led the UCC Blues to an undefeated season and the league championship. His coach, retired Toronto Maple Leafs star “Gentleman” Joe Primeau, knew he had a gifted future professional under his wing. But George wasn’t about to be pushed into pursuing a lifelong career as a paid athlete. He played for a love of the sport, pure and simple.

  The Detroit Red Wings expressed an interest in young George when they spotted him playing for UCC and then for the Toronto Marlboros in Junior A hockey. They placed him as an up-and-comer on their negotiating list and invited him to formally sign with the team in 1942. George respectfully declined their offer and instead elected to volunteer for the Royal Canadian Navy as an officer in training. He served on a corvette in the North Atlantic, on a gate vessel out of Halifax, and on two minesweepers. He also performed sea duties as a lieutenant on the Newfoundland-to-Ireland run. While serving in the navy George played with Wally Halder, and the two became fast friends. When George was posted to a naval base in Saint-Hyacinthe, Quebec, Frank Selke tapped him to play for the Montreal Canadiens farm team, the Montreal Royals, but George was unable to because of his duties.

  Like his best friend Wally Halder, George Mara was an exceptional stickhandler who had a great head for the game and a cannon for a shot. He had a well-honed talent for seeing the entire ice surface and an awareness of the movements of all players, which allowed him to make accurate, effective passes. At five foot ten and 180 pounds, he was a smooth, solid skater with golden hands. Colleagues and friends noted that Mara could also hang on to a puck forever if he wanted to.

  When he returned home from the war, George was once again approached by the Detroit Red Wings to suit up. This time it was against Toronto in the Stanley Cup playoffs. Although he was excited by the offer, George was being groomed to take over the massive family importing business, and a professional hockey career in Detroit was not in his cards at the time. Now, an opportunity to play for Canada for Olympic gold was something entirely different. That was something George could steal away from the family business to be a part of for a few months. That was something of substance, where he could once again contribute and do his bit.

  When George and Wally rolled up for their first practice at the Ottawa Auditorium on December 29, some of the other boys cou
ldn’t help but notice that these guys were clearly from a different social strata. They were impeccably dressed and both were driving beautiful, brand-new 1948 Buick convertibles. Money was definitely not an issue for either of these chaps. Neither Wally nor George wanted to temporarily enlist in the RCAF; nor did they have to. As long as they were amateurs, they were eligible to join the team. So Wally and George signed up as civilian volunteers who had served in the navy.

  TWENTY-TWO-YEAR-OLD ANDRÉ LAPERRIÈRE was a bright-faceds Frenchman with a warm, friendly smile and a shock of thick black hair. One of the younger men cherry-picked to try out for the Flyers, André was also the only French-speaking player on the squad. Born in the Montreal working-class neighbourhood of Outremont, he started playing pickup games of shinny at the tender age of seven on scrappy patches of ice in local parks. It seemed like every boy in the neighbourhood was mad about hockey, and André was no exception. His first skates were four-bladers, just like the ones a young Roy Forbes had learned on in Portage la Prairie.

  In those formative years André developed a passion for the game and spent hour after hour duking it out with thirty other kids, chasing a single puck around the frozen park. Young André was imbued with a burning desire to be on the ice every day—in snowstorms, in bitter sub-zero temperatures, even in torrential downpours of freezing rain. Crusted in ice, soaking wet, he would walk home a few hours later with a giant smile on his face. André felt as if hockey was a part of who he was, a key component of his essence. The instant he received new skates, shoulder pads, and gloves at Christmas, he had them out of the boxes and on his body. Brimming with glee, André then paraded around the living room modelling his new getup to the laughter of his younger sister, Renée.

  There were no rink managers manicuring the ice for André and his neighbourhood buddies. The kids in Outremont brought their own shovels to clean the surface. They also made up their own teams and designed and knitted their own “team” sweaters. This was how André learned to play hockey. He never played on an organized team, never went to any tournaments, never had any lessons or formal coaches. Instead he and his friends created their own league, playing pickup matches in their homemade sweaters on ice they cleaned themselves around Montreal.

  The big, strapping kid that Frank Selke wanted for the Montreal Canadiens and Frank Boucher wanted for the New York Rangers had never played an official game of hockey until he went away to Laval College boarding school at the age of sixteen. André hadn’t been doing so well at his studies, so to improve his grades in preparation for university, his parents decided that he needed a stricter, more focused education. His father was a streetcar driver, and he wanted André to strive for greatness, for a university degree, and for a career that could take him places. So they sent him away to do his final years of high school in Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, Quebec.

  Although the school was not too far from home, his parents were permitted to visit only on Sundays or special occasions. André spent his first night there feeling sad, alone, and depressed. He missed his family and he missed his friends. But when he awoke the next morning and looked outside his dorm room window, André saw they had a beautiful ice rink with actual wooden boards and real nets. That changed everything. His boarding school had not only an outdoor rink but a proper hockey team with a coach as well. André skated every day and excelled on the ice and in his studies. He captained his team, playing centre. Already over six feet tall and nearly 160 pounds, André was one of the bigger boys on the team and stronger than many of his linemates. He had a knack for bowling over his opponents or simply having them bounce right off him. To spectators on the sidelines, it appeared as if his skates were glued to the ice. Laperrière had a hell of a shot and loved the physical roughness of the game and the closeness of working with his teammates.

  Every Sunday André’s family would drive out to Saint-Vincent-de-Paul and watch him play. (His mom also knitted toques for all fifteen of his teammates to keep the winter chill off the boys’ freezing skulls.) It was at one of these Sunday matches that André was plucked from hockey oblivion and thrust into the spotlight. His line scored six goals in a game and got a write-up in the local paper. The next weekend a scout from the Verdun Terriers of the Quebec Junior Hockey League came sniffing for a look and spotted the imposing young centre. Blown away by the undiscovered talent, Verdun struck a deal with the boarding school to have André come and play for them. The Terriers arranged for a cab to chauffeur him to practices in Verdun and games at the cavernous Montreal Forum. André could finish out his studies at boarding school, but now he was lacing up in the premier hockey league in Quebec. Suddenly the kid from Outremont who had been playing in obscurity was on everyone’s radar, one step away from the big time. André felt like a star.

  By the time he finished high school, André was tipping the scales at 170 pounds solid and standing about six foot two. He still played centre, only now it was with the University of Montreal Carabins. A student at the university’s École des Beaux-Arts, André was doing an arts degree, specializing in advertising, printing, and graphic design. Watching him play for the university team, his coach decided to try throwing André back on defence. Laperrière loved it and blossomed into a stellar rushing defenceman with a bullet for a shot and an impeccable skill at clearing the front of the net and protecting his goalie. Over two seasons André was a menacing force for the Carabins and helped captain his team to two Canadian Intercollegiate Hockey Union championships.

  On the evening of December 28, André was taking a well-deserved rest from his second year of university studies, relaxing with his parents and younger sister in the buzz of post-Christmas celebrations. As he was clearing the plates from the dinner table at the family home in Outremont, the phone rang and his mother answered. The man on the other line was speaking English and asking for André.

  André’s English was pretty rough, but his mom’s was non-existent so she handed the phone over to her son. The man on the other end of the line introduced himself as Sidney Dawes, president of the Canadian Olympic Association. He described the RCAF Flyers and said, “Listen, André, how would you like to join our team to represent Canada at the Olympics?” At first André thought it was a joke, someone from school playing a prank. But Dawes was dead serious. Once he had composed himself, André told the head of the Canadian Olympic Association that he needed some time to think. Joining the team meant he would miss three months of school, essentially losing an entire year of his studies. Dawes’s response was short and to the point: “I’ll call you back in fifteen minutes. I need an answer tonight.”

  With his head swirling, André relayed the information to his incredulous parents and sister, who had been listening and waiting in curiosity. Elated, his father told him, “This is an offer you will never get again in your life. Your studies can wait. You can go back to university next year.” Fifteen minutes later on the nose, Dawes called back with one question: “What’s your answer?” André responded, “I would love to go.” Dawes told him to get to Dorval airport for 7:00 a.m. sharp. A plane was coming to pick him up and bring him to Ottawa. At twenty-two years old, André had never even dreamed of visiting Europe, let alone playing hockey for his country on the world stage. He didn’t sleep a wink all night.

  At 6:00 a.m. the next morning, André caught a cab in the darkness and made his way out to Dorval. As he sat on a bench at the airport with thoughts ricocheting in his head, a young man dressed smartly in uniform approached, asked him his name, and ushered him out onto the tarmac, where a forty-seater DC-10 was waiting just for him. As a civilian André had no experience with planes or with the air force, and the bizarreness of a personal escort in a giant plane was not lost on him. In fact, he had never travelled anywhere before. While the DC-10 cut through the clouds from Montreal to Ottawa, André looked out of the window at the countryside racing below and thought, What the hell is happening to me?

  With more than his fair share of butterflies, the big kid from Outremont hit the i
ce midway through the morning workout practice. There were about thirty other men being run through a series of drills and exercises under the watchful eyes of Buck and Frank Boucher. No one else spoke French, and many of the guys seemed to be friendly and getting along well. Immersed in a sea of English players, André felt like the odd man out. Fortunately he was in peak playing condition. He blazed into action, was impressive as all hell, and finished up the morning session feeling chuffed about his performance. At the end of the practice Buck Boucher called out name after name, and André’s heart sank as he watched the other guys skate off the ice. Not quite up to speed on what was actually going on, André figured these guys were in and he was out. While he anxiously waited to hear his name roll off Buck’s lips, he watched as the poor defenceman who had flown him out that morning was axed from the team and André was identified as his replacement. Moments later in the dressing room, Hubert Brooks dusted off his French, introduced himself to André, and welcomed him onto the team.

  It all happened so fast it was like being in a dream. The night before, André was at home having supper with his family. A day later he was being inducted into the air force as an aircraftman level 2 and getting suited up to go to St. Moritz to play for his country in the Olympic Games.

  AS THE CALENDAR TICKED OVER TO 1948, the final composition of the RCAF Flyers was finally announced. With eight days to go before the boys in air force blue were due to set sail for Europe, Sandy Watson and Frank Boucher had a team they could feel confident in. Ottawa Citizen sports editor Tommy Shields caught a glimpse of the Flyers in a hotly contested closed-door practice game against Buck Boucher’s top-notch Ottawa Senators squad. In his column Round and About he wrote: “From having nothing at all, so to speak, the Airmen now have a hockey team. Changes and recent additions have raised the Olympics up from a lowly rating to a point where they now can be looked upon as a squad capable of representing Canada creditably in the coming Winter Games at St. Moritz. How good the team ultimately will be, or how far they will go in the Olympic tournament, is something which cannot be foretold.”