A Great Game

by Stephen J. Harper

  The new world of professional hockey was a chaotic, booming business. Matches between the country’s two leading clubs, the Wanderers and the Ottawa Silver Seven, were drawing as many as 7,000 spectators. Tickets in Montreal were reportedly scalped for as much as $15. Even a country town like Pembroke could pull in two and a half thousand for a big game.

  As profitable as hockey could be, however, this new industry lacked any real structure. The only unifying element was the quest for the Stanley Cup, whose guardians had long maintained a hands-off policy on league governance. Periodic suggestions of a “national commission” between the various circuits did not lead to any serious discussions.

  With no body to enforce agreements, “contract jumping” by players was widespread. Salaries escalated as teams openly raided each other for players, sometimes even within the same league. It was not uncommon for a quality performer to suit up with multiple teams in the same year, or to be employed in two different leagues at the same time. The phenomenon was reaching its logical extreme in Edmonton, where local management began buying star players from across the country as part of its plan to assemble a Cup contender.

  Another downside of unregulated competition was the inability of pro leagues to enforce on-ice discipline. It should be noted that, contrary to what the amateur organizers claimed, violence in hockey was by no means a professional phenomenon. The papers of the day are full of on-ice assaults, all-out brawls and spectator bedlam in the unpaid ranks. However, when amateur leagues dealt with these, they could enforce their rulings throughout the amateur world.

  When it came to violence in sports, Canadian hockey stood in intriguing contrast to American football in these early years. In the 1890s, the United States had moved to ban such dangerous plays as the flying wedge, a strategy taken from Napoleon that involved a “V” formation of players zeroing in on a single opponent. By 1905, the American press was so concerned with the rising death and injury tolls on the gridiron that universities across the country began banning the sport. It ultimately took the intervention of President Theodore Roosevelt to bring about the changes—such as the forward pass—that would deal with the issue.5

  Hockey took no such actions at any level.6 Professional hockey in particular lacked the system-wide rules necessary to control violence. For example, when “Bad” Joe Hall and Harry Smith of the Winnipeg Maple Leafs were suspended by the Manitoba league for particularly brutal play, they promptly received offers of employment in other parts of the country. The league then backed off. Smith was the same one who, along with his brother Alf and Baldy Spittal, had been involved in a vicious stick-swinging attack during an Ottawa–Wanderer contest the previous season.

  The Ottawa–Wanderer incident had underscored the impotence of even the ECAHA. With the league unable to act, Montreal Arena management had to call in the police, who decided to arrest the three capital city players. Indeed, intervention by the authorities that season culminated in a murder charge against Charles Masson of the Ottawa Vics. He was apprehended after the Federal league’s leading scorer, Owen “Bud” McCourt, died as a result of a multiplayer altercation at Cornwall.

  William Hodgson “Hod” Stuart was considered hockey’s greatest player at the time of his premature death in 1907. His passing led to the staging of the first professional all-star game.

  Nonetheless, the year’s tragedy with the most lasting consequence actually occurred during the offseason. Before the 1907–08 campaign began, it was reported that Hod Stuart, widely acknowledged as the game’s greatest player, had perished in a diving accident. To raise funds for his widow and children, the ECAHA assembled a team of its best players to take on the remaining Wanderers in an exhibition contest played on January 2, 1908, before 3,800 paying spectators in Montreal.

  The professional all-star game had been born.

  If John Ross Robertson seems less of a force in these times, there was more to it than the growth of professionalism in hockey. Now in his late sixties, he was beginning to consciously pattern himself after that other aging ruler, Edward VII. Like the king, Robertson increasingly spoke in favour of leisure and attempted to seek it himself.

  “His concept of it was unique,” biographer Ron Poulton wrote. “He was really a compulsive worker, but Edwardian enough to pose with ease as an absentee owner. The lid of an ever-ready steamer trunk was constantly being slammed; and word would filter through the lower echelons of the Telegram that he was prowling again through the hospitals, libraries and museums of Europe, or lolling the lobby of some favoured Southern hotel, adding to his collection of ‘darkie’ jokes.”7

  Robertson had so many other interests, it is a wonder he had any time at all for the game. He had other “causes” at which to aim his newspaper’s slings and arrows, chief among them the suffragette movement. As a dedicated Edwardian, he believed absolutely in “the age of men,” not the vote of women.

  Robertson also became fascinated with the automobile and loved to show off his latest acquisition while being driven about Toronto by his chauffeur, Frank Yewman. He was involved in horse racing and in charity fundraising (mostly for the Children’s Hospital) and he travelled extensively to add to his growing collection of artefacts. His eccentricities were both charming—like the five dollars’ worth of change he carried in his pocket each day for the panhandlers he would encounter on his way to the office—and curious. He had an insatiable appetite for funerals, going to as many as five in one week. Yewman liked to claim his boss held “the all-Canadian record” for attending such memorials “and he always cried quicker than anyone else.”8

  The old man was increasingly leaving the job of daily editing the Telegram to his trusted second, John “Black Jack” Robinson. Likewise, he had formally passed the mundane matters of the OHA to its future presidents. He did, however, continue to be the power behind the throne. With his position of past president set to expire at the upcoming OHA annual meeting, it was arranged for Robertson to be declared a “life member” of the executive. Along with his perennial colleagues, Secretary Hewitt and CAAU representative Nelson, and their Three White Czars subcommittee, John Ross could wield his power whenever it suited him, just like at the Tely.

  It is not clear whether Robertson felt the need. Professionalism might be rampant, but it was also now effectively outside his Ontario Hockey Association. In fact, he and his followers were taking considerable satisfaction from the on-and off-ice challenges facing the pro game. Similarly, where senior amateur hockey elsewhere might be in disarray, the OHA was still the leading league in Canada’s largest province. In Toronto, Alex Miln’s new artificial-ice arena at Mutual had not yet materialized, putting the International Hockey League franchise for his fledgling local pro club in doubt.

  In truth, Toronto was the least of the IHL’s concerns. Not only had its ambitious expansion plans failed to pan out, but early in November the outfit folded altogether. While the softening economy was blamed, the truth was that growing pro competition had been slowly undermining the league. In just three years, bidding for players from back home had driven up salaries by two-thirds. The growth of professionalism in Canada, initially fuelled by the IHL, would ultimately finish the IHL.

  The American pro game did not disappear immediately. In Pittsburgh, the Western Pennsylvania Hockey League was re-established. The clubs of Sault Ste. Marie and Houghton, home of Doc Gibson, went amateur, but continued to barnstorm. Every preseason, reports on the imminent founding of a new U.S. pro league would circulate. Nonetheless, the IHL’s day had passed.

  This led outgoing OHA President D. L. Darroch to dismiss the pro threat in his final address, a speech that could have been written by Robertson himself. Darroch attributed the previous year’s rebellion to mercenary rink managers—which would include both Miln and Guelph’s Buck Irving. He blamed Irving especially, seeing his famous “charges” as an orchestrated plot to encourage professionalism. This reading was probably accurate, but his assertion that the Ontario pros had given up a
ll hope was just wishful thinking.

  While the Barrie and Belleville professional clubs had quietly fizzled, Toronto, Guelph and Berlin had completed the previous year on a high note. Games with the Montreal Wanderers and with each other had been well attended. Now a flood of exiled OHA talent was pouring back into Ontario from the defunct International league. With professional hockey already flourishing on the province’s periphery, conditions were set for the first pro league in the OHA’s heartland.

  On November 12, 1907, the remaining Ontario professional clubs gathered in Berlin to form the Canadian Hockey League. Despite its official name, the organization was widely called the Ontario Professional Hockey League almost immediately. Brantford was admitted as the circuit’s fourth member.

  Although the Telephone City was alone in not having an existing club, Brantford had been a rumoured centre of pro insurrection for some time. It had been hit hard by the OHA’s expulsion of lacrosse players in 1904. In the winter of 1905–06, local exile Roy Brown had attempted to organize a team in the city while he was also part of Toronto’s pro practice squad. A top defenceman, Brown had wanted to play in Ontario rather than the International league. He was immediately named the playing manager of the new team.

  The OPHL was clearly feeling confident. Before it had played a single game, it announced that its champion would challenge for the Stanley Cup.

  The barnstorming circuit of the previous season had become a full-fledged organization.

  Alex Miln found himself wearing two hats as president of the new Ontario pro league and manager of its Toronto club.9 After his IHL plans had fallen through, he had worked with Irving—now OPHL secretary—to put together the new provincial body. He had not pursued a rumoured possibility of getting Toronto into the big Eastern league; without a larger building to pay the freight, he wanted a more compact circuit with modest travel costs.

  This does not mean Miln had given up on making Toronto’s “new rink” a reality. His backers were buying the land all around the existing building. By the end of 1907 they had everything along Shuter Street from Mutual to Dalhousie Street. In truth, the venture seemed only a matter of time.

  In the meantime, Miln’s Ontario partners had carefully chosen each other from a number of applicants. They were trying to put together a stable and collegial outfit. They also sought to address some of the complaints against professionalism. Miln was particularly clear about getting rid of late-season ringers:

  The addition of a very strong residence rule … will not give the clubs a chance to import players at any stage of the season, as was done by Kenora last year in the Western League when they brought in nearly all the Ottawa team. We don’t intend to have any farce of this kind.10

  However, President Miln’s number-one job was to keep the Ontario teams from raiding each other. This was essential, given the intense competition already coming from the other pro circuits. The OHA news organs—the Telegram, Star and Globe—needled the OPHL every time it lost a player to its competitors. As noted, Robertson’s Tely was particularly savage:

  All the hockey world is laughing at a so-called professional hockey league that can only get players that real professional leagues don’t want. It’s not a professional league at all. It’s a disqualified amateurs’ league.11

  Henry John “Con” Corbeau hailed from the Francophone community of Penetanguishene. Berlin signed him to be captain, but he was allowed to go to Toronto after the Dutchmen replaced their management.

  The unfortunate truth for the OHA was that, whatever the OPHL lost to other pro leagues, it made up for by raiding the old association. It had already taken all of Guelph and Berlin—probably the two best OHA teams before their defection. To these it added a few new amateur signings. It also grabbed many of the Ontarians returning from the States, although some would wait till after Christmas in order to first play for a few weeks on Pittsburgh’s artificial ice.

  Long rumoured to be headed from the Marlboros to the Professionals, Charles Rowland “Chuck” Tyner was a quality goalkeeper. This photograph comes from a set of postcards of the 1907–08 team, of which it appears only two still exist.

  On the whole, the Ontario teams looked decent. Roy Brown brought fellow International travellers like Billy “Lady” Taylor, Jack Marks, John Ward and Alfred “Cap” McDonald back to Brantford with him. Berlin had preserved a quality core of men who had been performing together for years. They had, of course, been OHA senior champions in 1905–06. Among the group, only Guelph was suspect. The Royals had had the best record of the barnstorming teams of 1906–07; however, while hyping his efforts to sign IHL star Fred Taylor, Irving had let much of his local talent slip away.

  The Toronto Hockey Club was building on its lineup from that first year. While the team had come in for some criticism over its shifting personnel, there had been a stable core of familiar names. Mark Tooze (goal), Hugh Lambe (point), Rolly Young (usually cover), Bruce Ridpath (usually rover) and Jack Carmichael (centre) had played all eight games in 1906–07. With Frank McLaren apparently retired, Charlie Liffiton and Harry Burgoyne had settled in at the wings.

  Preseason reports indicated all the veterans were available, but that they would have to compete against a wider talent pool. Ridpath, who was in Europe on a canoe tour, was considered safe. So was Young, who succeeded him as captain. The rest would be tested in December tryouts against IHL returnees and a number of Varsity students wanting to turn pro. Only Bert Brown, the team’s spare man at last season’s end, was trying to get back into amateur athletics.

  The consensus was that the Torontos would enter the year with a strengthened roster. Howard Gee returned from Manitoba to play cover once again. He would be joined on defence by point man Con Corbeau. Corbeau was a 185-pound International league veteran who had once captained Victoria Harbour, the OHA intermediate champion of 1904–05. Bert Morrison also returned to squeeze out Carmichael at centre. A former star at Upper Canada College, Morrison had been on American payrolls for years, although he had also been part of the stillborn Toronto pro team of 1905–06.

  As an emerging young star, Bertram Clifford Morrison had played for a select Toronto squad against the Stanley Cup challenger Winnipeg Victorias when they came through town in 1900. Much travelled since, Bert was one of the first career pro hockey players.

  The real coup for the Professionals was getting the goalie they had wanted all along: Chuck Tyner of the disbanding Marlboros. Tyner was another in the long line of players who had been the subject of Irving’s charges, been given a clean bill of health by the OHA and then gone pro anyway. The aspiring doctor would be joined by IHL forward Ken Mallen. Soon to play rover, Mallen was said to be Tyner’s fellow student at the University of Toronto. Tooze was forced to look elsewhere, as were Liffiton and Burgoyne, while Lambe was retained as the spare man.

  By the time this lineup had come together, Toronto was within a week of its home opener. In the lead-up to the big event, it was announced the club would be changing its colours for the upcoming campaign. Brantford wanted purple and white, so the locals decided to switch to garnet and grey. The inspiration for the choice was likely an OHA junior club, the Toronto Simcoes. The irony was that the Simcoes had been started up many years earlier by no less than John Ross Robertson himself.

  The Simcoes of this day were managed by Edward Marriott. “Teddy” had taken over the club after leaving the Marlboros in 1905.12 When Miln became the boss at Mutual, he recruited Marriott for increasingly important assignments, including as icemaker and boss of the building’s restaurant. For all practical purposes, Teddy became the assistant manager of the Toronto Professionals.

  The Professionals would wear the new colours on Saturday night, January 4, when Berlin would be their scheduled guests at the old Mutual Street Rink. The Dutchmen were an ensemble that had endured since the players were youngsters in the Western Ontario Athletic Association. They would face what was, at best, a two-piece outfit.

  One part was the pre
vious year’s barnstorming team and its antecedent, the Toronto Marlboros. Ridpath and Young—moved to left and right wing respectively—had been together for three seasons. They had been joined by Lambe and (briefly) Gee the previous year. Tyner had played with them the two years before that. The other half was the former Calumet Miners of the International league. That was where Mallen had spent most of the past three winters. Corbeau had been there part of the past two. Morrison became their teammate in 1906–07.

  Berlin almost did not come to town. During the preseason, a serious dispute had arisen with the other OPHL owners. Guelph’s Irving had signed one Berlin star, Nelson “Uncle” Gross, while Brantford manager Brown and owner Fred Westbrook had poached another, Edward “Goldie” Cochrane. The Dutchmen threatened to quit the league if they were not returned. The rivals relented and Berlin stuck.

  Even so, the Torontos’ season opener seemed jinxed from the beginning. The morning newspapers were not even thinking hockey. They were instead consumed with the sudden passing of Ned Hanlan at age fifty-two. The “Boy in Blue” had been Canada’s first-ever world champion—a rowing prize he captured before 100,000 spectators on the River Thames—and he had been the city’s most beloved athlete for years. “The death of Edward Hanlan removed the most famous oarsman that ever lived,” reported the Globe. “Nor is it likely that any other who comes after him will occupy so large a share of public attention.”13

  An early thaw in the winter of 1907–08 played havoc with the city’s winter sports. It would leave the Mutual Street Rink with virtually no ice for the Torontos’ home opener.

  There was yet another serious distraction: the weather. Toronto was experiencing a sustained early-season thaw. As a contemporary cartoon illustrates (above), the ice was disappearing everywhere. Besides threatening game conditions, the situation left little opportunity for the home team to practice.

  Nevertheless, 1,800 spectators streamed into the rink that night to see the match, again demonstrating Toronto’s hunger for top-rank hockey. The crowd included a couple of hundred who had come down on a special train from Berlin.