Like Steve Albert, author of "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Broadcast Booth," I, too, wanted to be a play-by-play announcer.
Like Brother Steve, I succeeded. Unlike Steve, my career doing play by play ended with one game. But since I remember it as if it happened yesterday, I figure you might want to listen up.
But, before I go on, lemme say that – as a young Maple Leaf fan – I devotely listened to Foster Hewitt warble over CBL-Toronto. I figured, to be a solid hockey play-by-play guy, just know when to shout, "HE SHOOTS, HE SCORES!"
And, really, that's all there is to it. So, here's what happened – and how very wrong I was.
During the 1954-55 NHL season, I was assistant Rangers publicist and my boss Herb Goren often would give me neat assignments, like writing the texts on the backs of Topp's hockey cards or reading through out-of-town papers for hockey stories.
It was a dream gig until one night, Herbie uttered the never-to-be-forgotten words: "How would you like to do play-by-play tonight?"
Before I could say, "You gotta be kidding!" My boss went on as follows: "The guy who does all our games for Armed Forces Radio is sick and they need somebody to call the game."
A few seconds after my temporary case of lockjaw disappeared, I said, "Sure," and then wondered what to do next. Which was nothing.
The Blueshirts were playing Montreal that night. They were good and we weren't and what else was there to know. All our games with the Habs were delicious with thrills, win, lose or brawl.
I recall telling myself as I sat down after the National Anthem, "Just be Foster Hewitt and all will be well."
There were two issues: 1. I wasn't Foster Hewitt and 2. All was not well. At least not from the second period going forward. Ah but one play made it all worthwhile.
"Hello, this is Stan Fischler for Armed Forces Radio bringing you the Stanley Cup champion Montreal Canadiens against the New York Rangers,."
For about five minutes the Blueshirts held them off until New York defenseman Ivan Irwin took a penalty which was bad and good. Bad because Montreal had the best power play in the league and good because Aldo Reno Guidolin, my favorite Ranger, would take the ice.
Guidolin, who wore #12, was the only player in NHL history to come from Forks Of Credit, Ontario. He was a defensive forward who didn't play that much but he did kill penalties so I gave him a big plug. (Who knew what would happen next!)
"And here comes the Rangers PEERLESS penalty-killer, Aldo Guidolin." The Habs mighty power play had defenseman Doug Harvey at one point and Boom Boom Geoffrion at the other. Rocket Richard, Dickie Moore and Jean Beliveau were up front.
Beliveau won the draw and passed it back to Geoffrion at the left point. Guidolin headed straight for Boom Boom whose shot hit Aldo in the leg and bounced back toward center ice. It was at this point that The Maven lost his mind, shouting;
"IT'S A BREAKAWAY…ALDO GUIDOLIN IS IN THE CLEAR – NOBODY NEAR HIM." I inhaled and for a second wondered what my guy was doing. Aldo kept moving in from the right, too close to suit me and it looked like he was going to blow it.
"HE'S CUTTING ACROSS THE GOALMOUTH (left to right) HE SHOOTS! HE SCORRRRRRES!" I was so overwhelmed by the end to end rush that I momentarily wondered if I called it right, so I did it the second time to be sure.
But the Rangers still had the penalty and, in those Original Six days a team could score as many goals on a power play as the two minutes would allow. The Habs wasted no time tying the game; which brought my decibel count down by half.
By the time it was 6-1 for Montreal, you could hardly hear me – or the Blueshirts for that matter – and when the final buzzer sounded, I was secure in the knowledge that the only time I should ever do Rangers play -by-play again is when #12 scores a shorthanded goal.
P.S. Armed Forces Radio gave me a disk of the entire game. I had an extra made and gave it to Aldo and Phyllis as their wedding present.
P.S.S. I played the breakaway segment a few times – and made sure nobody in a white coat was around – just to convince myself that it really happened.
P.S.S.S. Guidolin and I remained close friends until his death on November 8, 2015.
