Game 1 of the Summit Series took place in the Montreal Forum on September 2, 1972. It's the most important sports event I've ever attended.
The Summit Series was the first time, ever, that the best Canadian hockey players faced the best Russian hockey players, because NHL players didn't play in the Olympics. Everyone knew that Canada and Russia were 1 and 2 in the world -- but in which order? The Summit Series would be the first time that actual games would be played to answer that question.
I got to Montreal the day before the game, and the city was jumping with anticipation. Every conversation in the city -- at my hotel's check-in, at the St James Pub, at Ben's smoked meat place -- was about the game. The newspapers covered every angle -- the Journal de Montréal reported that the Soviets were staying at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, and the hotel's maids said that the players were very neat and didn't leave clothes or towels on the floor.
Everyone in Canada knew, they were pretty sure, that the NHL had the best players in the world -- after all, Canada had invented the damn sport. I recall one comment made in the buildup: "Canada is known for two things, wheat and hockey, and not in that order." Some were predicting an 8-0 sweep (there would be 4 games played in Canada, then 4 more in the Soviet Union), others suggested that the Russians might win 1 of their games at home, allowing the Reds to save a bit of face. No one predicted a Soviet win, either in the series or the opening game.
Game Day was roasting hot, in the 90sF/mid-30sC. I didn't have a ticket but tickets can always be had at a price. And I wasn't going to miss this one. I got to the Forum a couple of hours before game time -- don't remember what I [over]paid, but got a seat in the brown section of the Forum. Lousy seats, but I was in, and the atmosphere in the cheap seats is just as good as in the fancy loges. Often better, actually.
The Canadian team was filled with all-stars:
Ken Dryden and Tony Esposito in the net, with Phil Esposito, the Mahovlich brothers, Stan Mikita, Bobby Clarke, Rod Gilbert, Brad Park, Guy Lapointe, Paul Henderson (of course) and other top players filling out the squad. Others were missing: the best player in the world, Bobby Orr, was out with a knee. And the players who'd signed with the new WHA, including Bobby Hull and Gordie Howe, weren't eligible.
I got into the Forum when the doors opened, to soak up as much atmosphere as possible. The anticipation was boiling and the tension supercharged, and all this in the Montreal Forum, the greatest building in all of ice hockey. Then a thunderous roar as Team Canada hit the ice for warmups -- the Forum would be packed of course, but I'd never seen the place packed for the warmups. The Russians looked nervous in the warmups, especially their goaltender Vladislav Tretiak. Seemed like he was letting in 60% of the shots they took at him. This was going to be easy.
Warm-ups ended, the ice refreshed, the anthems played. It was, after an eternity of buildup, time to drop the puck. And opening played out just as expected: , a routine Frank Mahovlich shot and a fat rebound gave Phil Esposito an easy goal in the 1st minute. A few minutes later, a Henderson long shot made Tretiak look foolish. Canada leads 2-0, the crowd's roar is deafening, and the rout was on. Nothing can match the atmosphere in the Forum, and this was special.
Until it all fell apart.
Not one soul in that building would have predicted what happened next. Four straight goals for the Russians, then three more to Canada's one. Final score: USSR 7, Canada 3.
Of all the things from 50 years ago, this is what I remember most clearly: the silence after the game. The Forum could be quiet during a boring game, or there could be catcalls when the Habs played poorly. But not silent like this. And the silence on St Catherine St was even more stark -- not a sound from the stunned souls heading home. Toe Blake's bar, always mobbed and a hotbed of activity after any game, was barely half-full, the customers staring blankly at the TVs as Foster Hewitt and Réné LeCavalier tried to explain what had just happened. Canada was in shock. Next day, I flew home to Boston, and Canada was trying reconcile what had gone down the night before.
Seven more games would be played, and Canadians' bewilderment would ultimately turn to excitement, with a climax of Paul Henderson's goal to clinch the series, 4-3-1. There'd be more Canada-Russia series, and eastern bloc players would eventually make their marks in the NHL. But there won't be another game like Summit Series Game 1.
The Summit Series was the first time, ever, that the best Canadian hockey players faced the best Russian hockey players, because NHL players didn't play in the Olympics. Everyone knew that Canada and Russia were 1 and 2 in the world -- but in which order? The Summit Series would be the first time that actual games would be played to answer that question.
I got to Montreal the day before the game, and the city was jumping with anticipation. Every conversation in the city -- at my hotel's check-in, at the St James Pub, at Ben's smoked meat place -- was about the game. The newspapers covered every angle -- the Journal de Montréal reported that the Soviets were staying at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, and the hotel's maids said that the players were very neat and didn't leave clothes or towels on the floor.
Everyone in Canada knew, they were pretty sure, that the NHL had the best players in the world -- after all, Canada had invented the damn sport. I recall one comment made in the buildup: "Canada is known for two things, wheat and hockey, and not in that order." Some were predicting an 8-0 sweep (there would be 4 games played in Canada, then 4 more in the Soviet Union), others suggested that the Russians might win 1 of their games at home, allowing the Reds to save a bit of face. No one predicted a Soviet win, either in the series or the opening game.
Game Day was roasting hot, in the 90sF/mid-30sC. I didn't have a ticket but tickets can always be had at a price. And I wasn't going to miss this one. I got to the Forum a couple of hours before game time -- don't remember what I [over]paid, but got a seat in the brown section of the Forum. Lousy seats, but I was in, and the atmosphere in the cheap seats is just as good as in the fancy loges. Often better, actually.
The Canadian team was filled with all-stars:
Ken Dryden and Tony Esposito in the net, with Phil Esposito, the Mahovlich brothers, Stan Mikita, Bobby Clarke, Rod Gilbert, Brad Park, Guy Lapointe, Paul Henderson (of course) and other top players filling out the squad. Others were missing: the best player in the world, Bobby Orr, was out with a knee. And the players who'd signed with the new WHA, including Bobby Hull and Gordie Howe, weren't eligible.
I got into the Forum when the doors opened, to soak up as much atmosphere as possible. The anticipation was boiling and the tension supercharged, and all this in the Montreal Forum, the greatest building in all of ice hockey. Then a thunderous roar as Team Canada hit the ice for warmups -- the Forum would be packed of course, but I'd never seen the place packed for the warmups. The Russians looked nervous in the warmups, especially their goaltender Vladislav Tretiak. Seemed like he was letting in 60% of the shots they took at him. This was going to be easy.
Warm-ups ended, the ice refreshed, the anthems played. It was, after an eternity of buildup, time to drop the puck. And opening played out just as expected: , a routine Frank Mahovlich shot and a fat rebound gave Phil Esposito an easy goal in the 1st minute. A few minutes later, a Henderson long shot made Tretiak look foolish. Canada leads 2-0, the crowd's roar is deafening, and the rout was on. Nothing can match the atmosphere in the Forum, and this was special.
Until it all fell apart.
Not one soul in that building would have predicted what happened next. Four straight goals for the Russians, then three more to Canada's one. Final score: USSR 7, Canada 3.
Of all the things from 50 years ago, this is what I remember most clearly: the silence after the game. The Forum could be quiet during a boring game, or there could be catcalls when the Habs played poorly. But not silent like this. And the silence on St Catherine St was even more stark -- not a sound from the stunned souls heading home. Toe Blake's bar, always mobbed and a hotbed of activity after any game, was barely half-full, the customers staring blankly at the TVs as Foster Hewitt and Réné LeCavalier tried to explain what had just happened. Canada was in shock. Next day, I flew home to Boston, and Canada was trying reconcile what had gone down the night before.
Seven more games would be played, and Canadians' bewilderment would ultimately turn to excitement, with a climax of Paul Henderson's goal to clinch the series, 4-3-1. There'd be more Canada-Russia series, and eastern bloc players would eventually make their marks in the NHL. But there won't be another game like Summit Series Game 1.
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