Keith Magnuson

by Doug Feldmann

  On November 7, 1970, the Hawks had played the Flyers to a 1–1 tie in Philadelphia in what became a chippy contest of late hits and cheap shots (even though Philadelphia coach Vic Stasiuk would call it “our best game of the season” to date). The prime culprit on the Philly side was a player named Earl Heiskala, who was one of the original tough guys on the Flyers’ expansion outfit several seasons before the team’s “Broad Street Bullies” reputation came into being. Early in the game, on a play near the boards, Heiskala momentarily distracted Magnuson by chopping at his legs with his stick. As Keith’s mind was temporarily focused on the lower half of his body, Heiskala then struck with an elbow to his face, sending the Hawks defenseman sprawling downward and loosening a couple of his teeth (the “chop-and-elbow” technique, as it was called, was one that other Hawks said was actually more typical of Derek Sanderson, John McKenzie, and few other Bruins).

  Keith fell to the ice in a daze and then reached out to try and grab hold of Heiskala, but the linesmen already had the two separated. Magnuson yearned for revenge, but composed himself for the rest of the game as he again took heed of the lesson taught by his childhood hero, Gordie Howe—to wait for the right moment to strike, a cold dish to be served at the opportune time for the best effect.

  He found the right moment just 96 hours later.

  Four days after the incident, the Flyers came to the Stadium for a game that would simply become known later as “Heiskala Night”—not in reference to anything noteworthy in the Philadelphia player’s performance but instead because of the show put on by the red-haired Chicago defenseman. “The hero of the masses was Keith Magnuson,” reported Ted Damata about the game for the Tribune. Indeed, the moment for which Magnuson had been waiting came quite early in the game.

  Immediately after the opening faceoff, the puck scooted down the boards and into the Hawks’ zone on Magnuson’s side of the ice. Just as they had in Philadelphia, he and Heiskala once again met at the glass.

  Putting his practice from Coulon’s gym to the test, Keith immediately landed a right fist to Heiskala’s face. “No one could believe it when my first punch landed exactly seven seconds after the opening whistle,” Magnuson recounted. “I was pretty surprised myself.”

  His opponent returned his own right cross to Magnuson’s head. After a wild swing by each man, the third clean punch of the melee—a square shot to the mouth by Magnuson—dropped Heiskala to the ice like a marionette whose strings had snapped, and he lost two teeth in the process. The final strike was “a dynamite six-inch jab that was reminiscent of Sugar Ray Robinson in his prime,” reported Stan Fischler for The Sporting News. After later seeing a film of the punch, one veteran NHL defenseman added, “You don’t see many like it…Earl’s knees buckled like a pillar in an earthquake.”

  Heiskala staggered off to the dressing room with assistance, missing the remainder of the first period in addition to his teeth, plus needing 12 stitches for his lip. “Never before or since have I really injured a player this seriously in a fight,” Magnuson would state a couple years later. Just 13 seconds after the scrap, Dennis Hull took immediate advantage of the momentum swing and scored to give Chicago a 1–0 lead.

  But the fireworks for Magnuson were not over. Around the 12:00 mark of the first period, Bobby Hull raced with the puck into the Philadelphia zone on the left wing. Circling the net, he found his center, Bryan Campbell, who then quickly slid the puck over to Magnuson at the right point. Keith let loose with a 40-foot slap shot that carried high into the net past Flyers goalie Bernie Parent, as Magnuson deposited his first regular season goal in the NHL. It was one of four tallies the Hawks would blitz upon Parent in opening frame (with goals coming later from Chico Maki and Bill White as well). Magnuson’s first foray into the goals column was ultimately the game-winner as the Hawks piled three more on Parent in the second period, who was then replaced by Doug Favell, as Chicago won going away 7–1.

  After being held scoreless in his rookie season (except for the goal in the playoffs against Boston), the game capped a watershed evening for the young man from Saskatchewan. “Maggie’s goal brought out a volume of cheers,” noted Damata. When the puck went in and the Stadium goal light came on, Magnuson threw his arms above his head with such excitement that his gloves actually flew right off his hands—the opposite direction from which they normally flew off, which was dropping toward the ice before a fight. The next day, his teammates teased him by doing the same thing in unison when Keith came onto the ice for practice.

  In perhaps the most moving tribute for Magnuson, the considerate Bobby Hull thought quickly and was able to recover one of Heiskala’s teeth from the ice right after the fight, as well as the puck from Keith’s first goal. Hull mounted the tooth on top of the puck in a gold-plated leaf and presented the sculpture to Magnuson as a memento of the occasion.

  Magnuson and other Hawks players later noticed that Heiskala, once a truly physical force in the sport, was never quite the same player again, becoming more submissive in the corners and playing with less aggressiveness. Heiskala would never challenge Magnuson to fight again, nor would any other Flyers for the remainder of the season. Heiskala finished his career a couple of seasons later, his only significant fight taking place in an upstart professional league, the World Hockey Association, with Paul Shmyr.

  “Heiskala’s career as an enforcer lasted as long as it took Magnuson to reach back and waste him with one punch,” marveled Dave Schultz, who would soon step into Heiskala’s role for the Flyers.

  After the Heiskala fight, the national media once again took notice of Magnuson in the wake of his appearance on the cover of Sports Illustrated the prior spring. “Off the ice, Magnuson’s bridgework gleams in a smile of childlike innocence, and bromides fall from his lips like gentle rain,” as Time magazine described him a few weeks after the battle with Philadelphia. “On the ice, beware. The angelic face twists into a toothless snarl, while the bromides give way to threats of mayhem.” Added Dan Moulton of The Sporting News, “Magnuson [has] set about establishing himself as the policeman the Black Hawks had needed since the departure of Reg Fleming a few seasons ago.” (Interestingly, Fleming—long ago the Magnuson family favorite back in Wadena and Saskatoon—would square off with Magnuson once again on December 9, a rematch after the pummeling Keith took from Fleming in his rookie season.)

  As expected, the Hawks had rocketed to the top of the standings in the weaker Western Division by early December, with a 14–4–5 record. On the second of the month, the East-leading Bruins arrived at the Stadium with a sparkling 14–4–4 mark of their own. The Bruins’ focus was now firmly on the eye-catching, second-year Chicago defenseman. “For the first time in memory, the pregame talk isn’t about Bobby Hull,” wrote John Ahern of the Boston Globe. “This time the subject was Keith Magnuson, the sophomore defenseman, who has become the Black Hawk leader despite his youth and newness to the league.”

  A week earlier, the two teams had played in Boston, where Sanderson and Magnuson had dropped the gloves when once again Keith was compelled to come to the rescue of a teammate who had been hit from behind by Sanderson along the boards. In looking back on Magnuson’s career, Chicago announcer Pat Foley noted that most of Keith’s scraps did not originate from his actions. “Many of the fights he had were not the result of something done to him by an opposing player,” Foley said. “If someone took a cheap shot on any one of the Hawks, that person would have to deal with Magnuson.”

  The Bruins certainly seemed obsessed with knowing the whereabouts of Chicago’s No. 3 when he was on the ice. “Last week the Bruins won 3–2,” Ahern continued, “probably because Magnuson was banished with 13 minutes [of penalty time], making the work a little easier.” Boston defenseman Don Awrey agreed. “He does a lot. He leads that club. He’s a guy who can beat you.” Added Bruins forward Ken Hodge, “He likes to play it rough and he provides a spark…this kid is something.”

  Near the
end of the first period of the December 2 contest, a bench-clearing brawl had ignited between the two rivals. It began with a scrap between Jim Pappin and Awrey, and later directly involved Sanderson, McKenzie, Hodge, Ted Green, Rick Smith, Ace Bailey, Bill Speer, and Wayne Cashman from the Bruins side and Pappin, Magnuson, Wayne Carleton, Dan Maloney, Pit Martin, and Bobby Hull of the Hawks. (The only one not on the ice was backup goalie Gerry Desjardins for the Hawks, who attempted to do his part by tugging at the jersey of a Boston player when the melee drifted over to the Chicago bench.)

  Things had appeared to have calmed down after a few minutes, at which point Magnuson skated away from the combat. When one of the Boston players said something—the origin of which Keith could not decipher as it came from the middle of a group of seven or eight Bruins who had circled around him—Magnuson charged back into the pack single-handedly, throwing a few more right hands until he was separated from the Boston roster. One of the players in the Boston pack was Orr, who had taken exception to Magnuson getting a final punch in on him before the linesmen pulled them apart. The protection of Orr had been the Bruins’ focal point all evening, and they felt Magnuson had been out to get him since the opening whistle. As Orr and Magnuson were making their way off the ice, eyeballing and jeering at each other all the way, Cheevers—once again in the nets for Boston as the goaltender that night—overhead Orr saying to Magnuson, “With 10 seconds left, no matter who’s ahead, I’m gonna get you.” Magnuson, meanwhile, did not care who it was challenging him. To him, Bobby Orr was the same as any other threat, and had to be dealt with accordingly. “If you’re going to play in this league—and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do—you just have to be able to take care of yourself,” he once wrote. “If you can’t, the established players will run you out.”

  True to his word, Orr found Maggie in the game’s final minute. After a few right hands from Orr, the two went down to the ice like a pair of wrestlers, with extra punches flying thereafter. Even though Magnuson was badly bloodied, he was so incensed that referee John Ashley had to jump in and assist the linesmen in restraining him further. With Orr heading down to the ice and both men’s sweaters in a tangled mess, Magnuson descended one final blow to the Boston star.

  Orr’s attack was of no consequence, as Magnuson’s energy had spurred the Hawks in front of the electric Stadium crowd. They pulled out a 4–3 win in the fierce battle with the Bruins, part of a stretch from late November 1970 to early January 1971 during which the team went 15–3, a run that would be capped by yet another victory over the Bruins in the Stadium on January 9 (in which Magnuson got his second goal of the season). By the end of March, the Hawks had posted a 26–2–2 record at home, including 18 straight games at the Stadium without a loss since the start of the regular season—a club record. The streak began with an opening night home win over the California Golden Seals, the team formerly known as the Oakland Seals, whose title had been changed by their new owner Charles Finley, the franchise’s third CEO in four years. In October 1972, Finley would be able to convince his fellow owner Wirtz to move a game between the Seals and Hawks four days later on the calendar, in order to accommodate Finley’s desire for attention to be placed on his other team, the Oakland A’s, which was playing in the World Series. “We insisted that our players get World Series tickets while they were in Oakland,” Bill Wirtz would say. “Not free ones, either. We’ll pay.” And as with the A’s, Finley ordered his newly acquired hockey team to begin donning bright-colored uniforms as well.

  * * *

  Magnuson’s play had earned him his first trip to the NHL All-Star Game in 1971, joining seven other Black Hawks—at the time, the most ever elected from one team for the event. How much he would enjoy the honor, however, remained to be seen—the 1971 version was scheduled for the Boston Garden, and the fans in Beantown were in no mood to set aside their animosities for their favorite persona non grata, in spite of the special occasion.

  “Keith Magnuson, the robust Chicago defenseman, must know he has arrived,” wrote Fischler in covering the event for The Sporting News. “The rampaging redhead was the only West Division skater consistently booed by the Boston Garden fans during the All-Star Game. There is a lot of hockey player in that young man.”

  Despite their vocal displeasure with Magnuson and his teammates from Chicago, the Boston fans witnessed a 2–1 victory by the West, powered by goals by Maki (only 36 seconds into the game) as well as Bobby Hull. Maggie, meanwhile, gave the local throng some pleasure by going to the penalty box halfway through the third period, and the Garden security kept a close eye on the spectators nearest him. He jokingly suggested to Maki that the next time they come to the East Coast for a road trip, Chico should bring along some fireman’s helmets for extra protection (in an era before helmets were worn by most players in the NHL, Maki worked as a part-time firefighter in the Chicago area).

  Kevin Walsh was on the scene at the All-Star Game for the Boston Globe and was impressed with Magnuson’s performance in the hostile environment. “Magnuson, who was greeted by a loud round of boos during the introduction, certainly ranked as one of the stars in the West victory,” Walsh wrote. “The defenseman who made the jump from the college ranks to the NHL look easy was able to keep the East attack off balance while he was on the ice.” But Maggie, using his stick more than his body this particular night, sounded disappointed with what transpired over the course of the evening. “There wasn’t much hitting out there,” he said.

  While Magnuson continued to pile up the penalty minutes along with the fights, it had appeared that some help might be on the way to shoulder the load of policing the Chicago ice. The 1970–71 season was the rookie campaign for 22-year-old Hawks defenseman Jerry Korab, an imposing figure who stood 6'3" and checked in at 220 pounds. Korab had posted an impressive log of time in the penalty box himself, including 284 minutes for the Port Huron Flags of the International Hockey League in 1968–69. In 46 games in his rookie NHL season, Korab would find time as a third- and fourth-pair defenseman, putting up 152 minutes in the box while adding four goals and 14 assists. Magnuson would always feel that Korab, however, had actually been at a disadvantage because of his height; it often appeared that the tall Korab led with his elbows when running into an opponent when in fact he was not, precipitating undeserved penalties.

  Even with Korab’s assistance, it was Magnuson who continued as the team’s unquestioned enforcer. On March 6, he once again took on multiple opponents in the same game, which was also evidence of Magnuson’s remarkable stamina and conditioning. “It is important to remember about Keith,” Jim Wiste pointed out, “that he often had to fight more than just once a game. Toward the end of the third period, Maggie might be having his third bout of the game, while the guy he is now fighting is fresh and maybe jumping on the ice for the first time that night.”

  Just two minutes into the contest against Toronto, Magnuson knocked Brian Spencer into the boards at Maple Leaf Gardens, after which Spencer sprung to his skates and exchanged blows with him. Next up was Garry Monahan, who tangled with Keith a minute into the second period. By the end of the evening, Magnuson had added 14 more penalty minutes for a season total of 267, just six short of the NHL record. Soon the mark would be his; he finished the league schedule with 291 minutes in penalties, the most ever, as the Hawks also secured a team-record 49 wins to easily claim the Western Division title.

  “I sure can’t complain about most of the fights and penalties Keith has,” Reay said. “When a player is being goaded into fights and tested, it generally means that he’s playing effectively and causing a lot of trouble for the other teams. What coach could ever be unhappy with a player like that?”

  Magnuson felt that the fights meant little if they did not help the team succeed, and he desperately wanted to lead his team to greater heights in the 1971 postseason than he had in his rookie year. After easily disposing of the Flyers in a four-game sweep in the opening round, the Hawks engag
ed in two epic battles with two Original Six teams for the rights to the Cup—two series which would be remembered for decades to come.

  First up were the New York Rangers in the league semifinals, a team filled with veteran, battle-tested talent, much like Chicago. Unfortunately for the Hawks, they saw their promising young scorer Gerry Pinder leave the team temporarily after a heated argument with Reay early in the series. Pinder had missed a team practice and then did not even show up for Game 2 at the Stadium. The player had complained about the amount of ice time he was getting, which was less than what he thought he should be getting. “I know I haven’t played well this season,” Pinder admitted, “but I don’t see how I could ever lace my skates again for that man [Reay]. The coach has lied to me this season. He says there’s nothing personal, but it must be. He’s hardly said hello to me in two years.”

  The team, however, remained cohesive enough to give the Rangers all they could handle. With Black Hawk Fever reaching its zenith in Chicago, Reay’s men won Game 5 in overtime at the Stadium as Bobby Hull scored on a one-timer off the draw from Martin in the New York zone. The team had been fired up after comments in the newspapers by New York’s Vic Hadfield, who had boasted after his team took two of the first three games in the series that “we had let them win one.” After the Rangers won Game 6 back in New York in a contest that lasted three overtime periods, the two teams collided in a decisive Game 7 at the Stadium on Sunday, May 2.

  Laboring to hold on to a 3–2 lead late in the game, Magnuson, Tony Esposito, and the rest of the defense scrambled against an extra Rangers attacker as a barrage of shots were fired toward the Chicago goal. Maki was able to work his way to the puck, however, and slide it down the ice for an empty-net goal, an effort that clinched the game and the series. Upon Maki’s tally, CBS announcer Dan Kelly noted that the press box had suddenly started shaking as the old structure concussed with a deafening roar. The Black Hawks were now one series victory away from their first Stanley Cup in 10 years.