WHEN YOU START PLAYING IN THE NATIONAL HOCKEY League, you sometimes envision how your career is going to end. I certainly didn’t see mine ending the way it did – playing on a team where the owners basically went bankrupt!
I stayed in Birmingham to play for one more season in 1980–81. It became obvious as we got down to the end of the season that the ownership was out of money. In February, they made the decision to cease operations.
All of us players came to the arena one morning to discover our equipment was gone – talk about a major wake-up call! That was it for the team, obviously, and it was the end of my playing career as well. I was thirty-eight years old and still in great shape, as I had always looked after myself, but it was time for me to move on and look for something else to do with my life.
I knew that my days as a top-flight player were over. I still had the skills and smarts to fill a role – I had even turned down an offer to play for the Flames earlier that season – but that wasn’t for me at this stage. As I always did when faced with a significant crossroad in my life, I consulted with Eleanor and came to the right decision for us as a family. That decision was that it was time to walk away from the game of hockey that had been so good to us – for good.
Some players are devastated when they are cut from teams, especially if they want to continue playing hockey. I wound up quitting when I wanted to, not when somebody else told me it was time to quit, and looking back on it I played eighteen seasons of professional hockey into my late thirties. That’s more than what I had hoped for starting out as a professional, so there was no reason to be uneasy about my decision to retire when I did.
Just because I was at peace with my decision to stop playing, however, didn’t mean that I was at peace with being out of hockey. Any player will tell you that it’s very hard to replace the buzz you get from being a professional hockey player. Half the fun of the game is in the dressing room, enjoying the camaraderie of your teammates, and you get to do that while playing a game that you love and making a decent living. Hockey is just a great lifestyle, both on and off the ice.
What exactly I would do next wasn’t clear to me yet. I knew I had some time to make a decision that was right for all of us, but trying to decide what path to follow after I retired from playing hockey wasn’t an easy task. I did know one thing – I certainly did not want to stay involved in hockey in any way, shape, or form. Cliff Fletcher, who was still running the Calgary Flames, asked me if I’d like an off-ice role, but that kind of thing – being a scout, coach, or manager – was never interesting to me. I loved to play the game, but the business side of the game had never appealed to me. The thought of trying to build a hockey team like he did, or scouting, or whatever, did nothing for me. I didn’t have the passion for it, and if I don’t have any passion for something, then there’s no point in even attempting to do it, in my way of thinking. It just wasn’t for me.
My problem with a lack of direction was a common one among players who had left the game. I felt I was mentally prepared to take on a new challenge, but a lot of ex-players weren’t because they wasted a lot of their spare time when they were playing. Many of the players spent far too much time just playing cards. Those games were a good way for us to bond as teammates, but they sure didn’t help us prepare in any way for a good career after we stopped playing. And of course there was the drinking and socializing after the games – far too many players turned to alcohol or drugs as a way to relieve the stress we were under, trying to perform on a nightly basis in front of huge crowds in the arena and even more watching on TV.
Alcohol use is quite well documented in hockey, in both the NHL and WHA. Its excessive use has played havoc with far too many players and ruined some lives, unfortunately. More than a few players I knew ran into problems on account of their lifestyles while still playing. Add to that the fact that there really isn’t anything that can replace the rush of being a professional athlete after you retire. You go from having thousands of people cheering you on a nightly basis and making a tremendous living to – what? And when you are dealing with alcohol or drug issues, it makes it even tougher. I am so thankful that that is something I never had to deal with.
Things have changed a great deal now. First of all, the athletic conditioning and supervision of players have made it much tougher to be a huge partier and still play in today’s NHL. Teams have also come a long way in helping players with their “exit strategies.” Nobody really thought all that much about it when I retired as a player. You were pretty much on your own.
Today’s player also has it so much better in terms of how much money they are making – millions and millions now, instead of thousands and thousands when I played – and agents certainly helped in that regard.
But now it was time for me to find something different to do with my life outside of the game.
A friend of mine was establishing an office for E.F. Hutton, the brokerage firm, and he offered me a position with him. After considering that possibility, I got the necessary training in New York so I could be a full-time broker by the spring.
The sales part of the job was right up my alley, and in my first three months working for them I opened up eighty-seven new accounts. It wasn’t hockey, but it was a very competitive business, and I enjoyed it. But getting a green card in order to work legally in the United States turned out to be a real problem. I tried everything, but just couldn’t make headway with U.S. immigration officials. Even with the help of a newspaper campaign pleading my cause in Alabama, I couldn’t get the documentation I needed to work legally in the United States. NHL players could get seasonal work permits easily, but it was a different story for a Canadian wanting to work in the U.S. at that time.
This was a huge problem for me. One of my daughters was going to university in the United States at that time, and I had two other daughters in private schools, but I couldn’t make a living in the United States. The logical option was to return to Canada. I was also considering a move into broadcasting, and there had been some interest in Canada. However, Harold Ballard had put a stop to that, so that door was closed for me. I was left with the dilemma of not being able to work in the United States and not being able to pursue a viable option for a career in Canada due to Ballard’s interference.
My family didn’t want to leave Birmingham, which was another issue. The kids were very content in school, and Eleanor just loved it. She was the entertainment chairman at our local church and was working at a local restaurant, as she’d developed into quite the gourmet cook. For years, Eleanor had raised our family and managed the household in the background of our marriage while I was Paul Henderson the hockey player, free to enjoy the limelight of an NHL career. Now she was gaining self-confidence and creating a wonderful life for herself. It was her turn to be able to do what she loved to do for once.
My family’s happiness was very important to me – always was. Yet here I was, once again threatening to push their wants and needs to the background so I could explore a new venture. I just didn’t want to do that. I made the decision to stay in the United States.
When we first got married, Eleanor and I both felt that this was a lifelong contract we were signing, till death do us part, and we both took it that way, so it should come as no surprise that we’ve been together for five decades.
I have nothing against divorced couples, by the way – sometimes people just marry the wrong person, and I can understand that. A couple of my sisters made the wrong choices, and that happens in life, but Eleanor and I took our vows seriously and have built a terrific life together.
We’ve been very, very fortunate over the years. Our marriage has always been solid and it still is today. We’ve been blessed with three great daughters, Heather (born in 1963), Jennifer (1965), and Jill (1970). We have seven grandchildren and are proud of our family, as they’ve all turned into such solid people.
Jennifer is so like her mother, Heather takes after me, and Jill, well, she’s probably a combination of the two of us. They have brought such joy into our lives and given us all those wonderful grandchildren.
One advantage of a life in hockey is that you have summers off, so summers were for the family. I was also making good money as an NHL player, so we could afford to take vacations and travel a lot, and we did, taking the children with us. We were fortunate from that standpoint.
We weren’t wealthy, but we enjoyed a very comfortable lifestyle. And we always stayed within our limits, were always smart with our money, and stayed out of debt – that dread of poverty never really left me, and it served us well over the years.
So as the years went by, our home became our oasis, and while I played and made us a living, Eleanor protected the home front. We were a great team.
I’m an impetuous person, very spontaneous and transparent. Eleanor was much more private, very thoughtful, and measured in her approach to life. We complemented each other, and she really helped me in so many areas of my life, especially helping me to become a more sensitive person, which I really needed to do. And nobody could put me in my place like Eleanor could. She certainly carried the velvet hammer in our household, and when she used it, I sure knew she was right to do it.
One time in particular – did she ever give it to me! I still remember that incident like it was yesterday. Like a lot of players in the off-season, I would drink a bit too much from time to time, although I usually kept it to a few beers. But one time I was playing in a baseball tournament in Goderich and wound up staying out very late. I came home after drinking far too much … and I was ripped, there’s no other way to say it.
I slunk into the house, trying to be quiet, and she was waiting for me. There were three steps leading up into the house, and she was standing there and looking right at me – scaring me so badly I basically fell over myself and down the twelve basement steps to my right. Fortunately, I was so drunk and loose that I didn’t get hurt or break anything!
She came after me and got about six inches from my face and proceeded to give me the tune-up of my life. She told me this kind of behaviour was not acceptable, I was a father and a husband now, and to come home late and drunk was no way for a responsible man to act. She really lit into me!
In no uncertain terms, she told me it was the last time I was ever going to disrespect her and our family by doing this, and ordered me upstairs to get into the shower and then into bed.
Well, have you ever seen what a whipped dog looks like? That was me. I meekly skulked off to the shower and then straight off to bed. When I needed a tune-up, Eleanor was always there to give it to me, and as always, she was right.
Eleanor was right that night, and I loved her so much I made sure I never had to be reminded of that again.
Like I said, marrying her was the best decision I ever made, as she was always there to steer me away from trouble and remind me what was right and what was wrong. And I always felt I could talk to her about anything, anything at all, and that’s what made our marriage so strong. And after so many years of my career needs determining what my family would do, I knew it was time for me to put the needs and wants of Eleanor and the children at the top of the list.
There was only one thing for me to do now since I couldn’t work legally, and that was to go to school. It would require cutting into our savings, as we would have no income coming in, but it was the best option at the time and turned out to be a great decision for us all. Still, hanging over the decision was the question of what I was going to do with the rest of my life, and what I should study. I had a bit of a sense of a calling, I suppose, but I had no anticipation, not one iota of thought, about getting into the ministry on a full-time basis, at least not yet.
I needed a challenge, something I could sink my teeth into, to take me out of my comfort zone. I was still wrestling with what to do, so I surrendered to God and decided that I would pursue the calling that was tugging at me and get some training in theology. I had become a follower of Jesus – a Christian – in 1975, and Eleanor and the children all followed suit shortly after. So I made the decision to enter the seminary and to ask God to give me direction from there. I was very nervous about it at first, especially about the financial implications – Christian work was certainly at the lower end of most pay schedules. But I saw the positive impact that faith had made on me and my family, and therefore I ultimately decided to spend my life making it count for the Lord.
That decision has led me to where I am today. I now believe that the Lord took me to Birmingham in order to mentor me and get me ready for my ministry. Today, many people think of Paul Henderson as the hockey player who became a very committed Christian.
In the late 1970s I was encouraged to come up with a purpose statement by my mentor, John Bradford; something that would summarize what the purpose of my life would be. I was challenged to think about the kind of man I wanted to become and just what exactly I wanted to do with my life.
It was a difficult process, but I like a challenge, and after eight or nine months of working on it, I had several pages of notes. But John told me that a good purpose statement was no more than one sentence. Being the competitive guy that I am, I decided I wanted to reduce mine down to the point where it was just several words. Therefore, I condensed several pages into four words.
My purpose statement is to be a “Godly world change agent.”
Let me explain what Godly means. I want to live every day in a manner that is honouring and pleasing to the Lord. As far as world goes, I wanted to have a worldwide influence (talk about dreaming big!). And as far as change agent goes, I wanted to help people make positive changes in their lives, exactly as my mentor, John Bradford, had done for me.
So, in four words, a “Godly world change agent” is what my purpose has been for more than thirty years now.