The Goal of My Life (13 page)

It’s always kind of neat to read about the experiences of well-known Canadians, but some of the best stories I have heard have come from ordinary Canadians. It’s really humbling to me to learn how many Canadians from so many different walks of life were touched by what we accomplished in Moscow, and I am very thankful to have been a part of such an important and historic moment in Canadian history.

Ever since the day we returned from Moscow, people have approached me to tell me where they were and what they were doing when I scored The Goal on September 28, 1972.

Some of the stories really stand out in my mind, and some of them listed below I wrote about years ago in
Shooting for Glory
. The Goal actually changed some people’s lives, believe it or not, and these stories never get old to me.

For instance, I received a letter from one woman who started out by telling me I owed her some money because of The Goal. That was a first.

She and her husband had just moved into a new home the day of the final game. She was unpacking some dishes and setting them down on a table while the game played on the television in another room. As the seconds wound down, she was busy unpacking and had a dish in each hand.

She heard Foster Hewitt’s famous call of the goal and lost her composure with joy. Without thinking, she threw the dishes in the air, sending the fine china to the ceiling. The dishes hit the ceiling and fell back to the floor, shattering into pieces!

Her letter said that the goal provided her with one of the greatest thrills of her life – after she got over the fact that it had also cost her some pretty fine china. I would like to sincerely apologize to her for her loss, but I’m sorry to say I do not owe her any money as a result!

That woman wasn’t the only person to write me and suggest they should be compensated. A gentleman in Ontario told me that he and two of his buddies were out fishing the day of the final game and were listening to it on the radio. When the goal was scored, he jumped up and was so excited that he went overboard into the water! As he went over the side, he knocked his tackle box into the water as well.

His buddies saved him and pulled him back into the boat, but the tackle box sank to the bottom, filled with his fishing gear. This guy told me that since I was responsible for scoring the game-winning goal, it would be a good idea if I were also to help him replace his equipment. Sorry, my friend. I may have caused you to fall, but I’m not liable!

Numerous times over the years, people have shown me evidence of damage inflicted on their property after The Goal was scored. I’ve heard lots of tales of how chairs and desks and even chandeliers were dented as a result of somebody throwing something. One guy even showed me his desk, which had a big gouge in it, and explained why he left it the way it was.

“When you scored the goal, I threw my chair back and it smashed the desk,” he said. “I won’t fix it because it will always remind me of the goal.”

Another guy broke a chair when I scored and he kept it in his recreation room as a permanent memento of the occasion. Over the years, I’ve seen beer stains on walls from people tossing their beer, and they point to the exact spot as if it’s a shrine.

Before I get to some of the stranger and funnier stories I’ve been told over the years, I’d like to share with you one that
came from a woman in Toronto who claimed that The Goal saved her marriage.

In her moving letter to me, she wrote that she had recently separated from her husband and they had decided to get a divorce. On the day game eight was played, the husband came over to the house to get her to sign the divorce papers.

The third period was just about to start as he arrived, and he noticed it was on the
TV
, so he asked her if he could stay and watch. She agreed, but they sat there in silence and watched the events unfold. When I scored the goal, they jumped up and started dancing, and hugged each other in celebration.

The woman said they looked into each other’s eyes and realized that they still loved each other. It was an emotional moment for both of them, but not just because they were happy Canada won. Sharing such a special moment together gave them a new perspective, and they decided to get back together and give their marriage another try.

I received her letter around Christmas 1972, three months after The Goal was scored. She thanked me for the best Christmas present she could have ever imagined. She said that I had provided them with one more opportunity to spend some time together, and as a result, they had reconciled and were back together.

If I hadn’t scored, she said, her husband might have left without even looking at her again. Of all the things that goal did, that might have been the best one.

I had just finished speaking at a church one day when I was approached by two grizzled farmers who wanted to tell me their story.

They were on a farm just north of Toronto and were listening to the game on the radio while they worked on a silo. When The Goal went in, they grabbed each other and started dancing around, filled with joy. They couldn’t contain themselves. They just shouted with glee and danced around like they were kids. The farmer who told me the story laughed so hard at the memory that he had tears in his eyes, even though it was years later.

“I’m so glad nobody saw us dancing like two old fools,” he told me. “They would have locked us up for good.”

I must admit I get a little teary myself hearing simple, wonderful stories like that.

I heard another story regarding farm life and The Goal that I got a real kick out of. In Listowel, Ontario, they used to have an annual plowing match. Well, on September 28, 1972, it was time for the annual event. Many people in attendance brought along their radios to listen to game eight, of course, as nobody wanted to miss the game, even for a local tradition.

The key to success in a plowing event is to maintain a straight line and plow the rows in an orderly fashion. One farmer set out to do his thing with a radio on top of his tractor so he could hear the game at the same time.

He was maybe three-quarters of the way down the field, I was told, when I scored the goal. He was so excited, he jumped onto the hood of the tractor and started dancing – while it was still running! His exuberance cost him in the competition – his tractor had swerved all over the place and ruined all his rows.

I guess he lost the match – but at least he was happy that he got to hear a piece of history while he was driving!

There were American visitors in the country at the time The Goal was scored, of course, and they may have had a little trouble understanding what the big deal was, especially in the middle of the day.

I heard a great story about what happened to an American guest speaker at a teachers’ convention in Toronto while the final game was being played. Although the delegation was quiet while he spoke, unbeknownst to him, he didn’t have their full attention, as many people in the audience were listening to the game on their transistor radios. When Yvan Cournoyer scored his goal to tie the game at 5–5, a murmur came from the audience, causing the speaker to be startled for a moment. But he continued undaunted.

When I scored, however, the place went crazy. He had no idea what had happened as the hall erupted in cheers and a celebration broke out. Somebody was finally good enough to inform him what had happened, and told him the importance of the goal. I hope he wasn’t offended – Canadians are usually much more polite to American visitors!

It’s amazing how many people actually heard the game on the radio instead of watching it on television. As many of the stories I’ve heard demonstrate, not everybody could make it front of a television in the middle of the day – especially in the Northwest Territories.

I was told about three men who were travelling in a car in a very remote part of the Northwest Territories. Their radio reception was fading as they made their way through terrain marked by peaks and valleys. With about five minutes to play in the game, they finally had a decent signal, so they decided to pull over and listen. It wasn’t the kind of place
where you pulled over unless you had a serious problem, but they didn’t want to risk missing any of the final few minutes.

In the freezing cold, they stopped and listened. When I scored the goal, I was told, they jumped out of the car and ran around yelling, “We won! We won!”

Another car approached and, naturally, the driver was concerned at the site of anyone pulled over in the middle of nowhere. The would-be good Samaritan had no idea what had happened, but after being informed about why the other travellers were out there, their smiles were enough to warm up even the coldest place on earth.

A disc jockey from a Toronto radio station told me he was on the air at the time The Goal was scored. He went a little crazy, as he was a passionate Canadian hockey fan. But that wasn’t the end of it. The next night, he was
DJ
ing at a dance, and about halfway through the event, he decided to play “O Canada!” in honour of Team Canada’s victory. He told me the emotions were still so raw that there wasn’t a dry eye in the house as people sang along to our national anthem.

The
DJ
told me he was blubbering by the time it was done, well over a day after it happened. Those stories really do make me proud to be a Canadian.

Life did go on despite the game being played on a Thursday afternoon. While a large part of the country put everything aside to watch the game on
TV
or listen to it on the radio, flights certainly didn’t get cancelled.

This story comes from some people who were on a Canadian airliner during the final game. The pilot was providing updates for the passengers throughout the flight, and first informed them over the
PA
that the score was 5–3
for Russia after two periods. The next update was 5–4. Then Canada had tied the game at 5–5. And then, of course, the final update after the game was over: Canada had won 6–5! I’m told the passengers and crew spontaneously broke out into “O Canada!” The crew was in such a great mood that they gave passengers free drinks to celebrate!

Hmm … maybe when it’s all said and done,
I’m
the guy who’s owed something!

Because of the timing of the game, a lot of people were in school when it was broadcast, both teachers and students. In his introduction, my co-author, Roger Lajoie, told of being in school when The Goal was scored, and I’ve heard many stories from people who experienced game eight in their schools too.

One man from Toronto, however, never forgave his teacher for not letting him watch the game. While many schools let their students watch the game together, his teacher wasn’t buying in.

“Our teacher made us stay in class and we didn’t get to see the game,” he told me. “I’ve hated that teacher ever since.”

I could see while listening to his story that this man’s animosity toward his teacher was genuine, even decades later! To all the teachers who
did
let students watch the game, I say thanks.

Another man told me how he and his fellow students in law school at Queen’s University watched the game despite the fact they had the bar exam the next day. They were supposed to be studying to make their final preparations for what might be the most important test of their lives, and instead they watched the game!