THE LION IN WINTER

THE ITCH TO PLAY again had come early in Plante’s time as the Nordiques coach and general manager. When he had signed his contract in the summer of 1973, he made a point of mentioning to the media that he was going to come back and play goal the next year, after sitting out the first year because of his contract with the Bruins. A few weeks later he distanced himself from those comments.

In October, with the season barely under way, he confessed that he was going through a period of feeling ambivalent about the game. “Some days, I feel good and the thought comes to me: I can still stand it. There are times when I’m involved in the administration of the team and I’d just love to be getting ready to fly somewhere to play a game. Then, I ask myself: Why would I want this again? Over the last few years it was tough. I’d get the shakes during warmup and they would disappear for a period. It was no longer a sport for me.”¹

As an executive he was now working 16-hour days, but thoughts of returning to the nets were never far from his mind. As the months passed by, Jacques gradually grew more disenchanted with his new role. Like many great players who had gone before him and tried their hand in coaching, he soon realized the one inescapable fact that confronted him behind the bench: no matter how hard he pleaded or how many drills he ran, he couldn’t give his players his own talent or skill. Some things cannot be taught.

As the games continued, he came to understand his limitations as a coach. Communication was not one of Plante’s strong suits as a head coach. A loner by nature, he tended to be distant from many of his own players, and they became accustomed to stretches of prolonged silence behind the bench.

He was also not well versed on running the game from the bench. He could not emulate previous coaches like Toe Blake and Scotty Bowman, who were masters of matching lines and achieving strategic advantages over their opposition. “Plante tried to give us all the information he could give from his own experiences,” says Réjean Houle. “But you couldn’t compare him as a coach to Scotty Bowman. Plante knew a lot about the technique, but he was not a head coach type. He would have been much better suited to being a goalie coach.”²

Both Blake and Bowman had coaching experience before becoming professional coaches and were able to grow into their position behind the bench. That season in Quebec, Jacques Plante enjoyed no such advantage.

Years before, when he was with the Canadiens, Toe Blake had totally entrusted Plante with the goaltending. Blake, himself a former forward, claimed ignorance, admitting to Plante that he was ill suited to offer any goaltending advice. Now Plante discovered that he was just as ill suited to offer any advice to his team’s forwards. He was a renowned expert on hockey in the defensive end and could talk for hours about goaltending and defensive strategies, but once the puck crossed the red line into the offensive zone, he was a limited if not ineffective coach.

Plante’s problems in Quebec were not restricted to the team. Always a favourite of the media, he alienated the local press almost immediately when he began writing a column in the newspaper A-propos. His own column bypassed the media, allowing him to speak directly to the fans, and lost him the support of the local newsmen, and when the team struggled he found the support of many influential reporters had evaporated.

The one bright spot in his life that year was far from the rink. Jacques had first met Caroline Raymonde Udrisart a decade earlier in New York City, when he was playing with the Rangers. Born in Switzerland, she worked at the Swiss Pavilion at Expo 67 in Montreal, and had proceeded to stay in Canada. Over the next couple of years she assumed a larger place in Jacques’ life, to the point where they were now inseparable. In time, she would become the second Mrs. Plante.

As the season dragged on to an inglorious end, with the Nordiques missing the playoffs for a second consecutive season, there were whispers throughout the city about the wisdom of signing Jacques Plante to a 10-year, million-dollar contract. Rumours quickly spread about his commitment to the club, as stories of him polishing his skis in his coach’s office spread through town.³ In March 1974, at a WHA meeting in Chicago, a frustrated Plante made his bid for professional independence.

A little over six months earlier, in a transaction that garnered virtually no press or public notice, the Edmonton Oilers had selected Plante in the June 1973 WHA professional player draft. With Plante joining the Nordiques the month before on the basis of a 10-year contract, the Oilers’ selection was viewed as nothing more than a lark. But that changed in March of 1974.

At a league meeting, Plante informed Edmonton Oilers owner Wild Bill Hunter that he wanted to come out of retirement and was in perfect shape to play. Hunter was stunned when he realized Plante was serious.

After the meetings, Plante went about his business as the coach and general manager of the Nordiques. However, as the season slowly plodded towards its merciful conclusion, unhappiness about Plante festered in the Quebec ownership. The question soon became not whether Jacques Plante would be back next year but instead whether he would resign his post or if the team would be forced to fire him.

On Saturday, May 4, Plante would be making his presentation on the season past at the Nordiques’ annual shareholders meeting. Many in the press braced for a confrontation between the proud Plante and the angry shareholders. Two days before the conference, Paul Racine, the Nordiques president and the man so instrumental in the team’s earlier negotiations with Béliveau, Houle, and Bernier, announced that he would not be continuing in his current position. By the eve of the meeting, rumours were running wild that Plante would be resigning both of his positions as soon as he finished his speech.

Talking to the media in the days before the meeting, Plante said he felt “that a coach should not automatically be held responsible for a team’s failures. He said he knew there were several people after his head because the Nordiques had failed to make the playoffs.”⁴

With cameras documenting his every move, Plante, with his chin jutting slightly forward, walked into the meeting that Saturday a proud man. It was widely known inside hockey circles that he was likely to be forced out by the Quebec brass by the end of the meeting. He presented his report and then stunned the shareholders by announcing his resignation from both positions.

“The news is stupefying at first glance,” wrote Le Soleil the next day. “But if we look closer, we understand that Plante, a man who has always been affable and reasonable until the end had to admit the facts – the facts that were obvious to everyone who was following his progress with any attention. A superb goaltender and a refined game analyst, he wasn’t able to transpose onto the ice what he could express so well in words. He didn’t have what it takes to be a manager. He was certainly aware that the shareholders’ case against him was getting more serious and more irrefutable every day.”⁵

Many in the media were puzzled by Plante’s decision to walk away from the final nine years of his Nordiques contract. Had the team fired him, he would have been owed the entire amount. By resigning, he received nothing. But a few days later the picture became a little clearer.

If the media were caught off guard by Plante’s actions that Saturday in Quebec, then they were downright shocked four days later when he suddenly appeared in Edmonton to announce his latest comeback, with the WHA Oilers as their newest goaltender.

It was a stunning return to the nets. It soon became obvious to the public that the sudden resignation from the Nordiques and the almost simultaneous signing with Edmonton had been planned well in advance.

“Jacques trained religiously and watched his diet closely,” remembered Oilers owner Bill Hunter. “And so for $150,000 a season, the great Jacques Plante pulled on an Oilers jersey. It was a thrill for me to sign one of the great men of hockey, and it was pretty good publicity too.”⁶

Many questioned this latest comeback. Plante would turn 46 in January, and his critics wondered why a man with his financial house in order and in good health would go back into the nets. After all, what was left to accomplish? He had done everything in the sport – as a matter of fact he had done more than anybody who had ever put on a set of pads.

It may sound simplistic, but Jacques Plante wasn’t playing hockey for money, even though his salary was the highest he had ever received in his professional career. And he wasn’t playing the game for fame and glory – he had more of both than any other goalie.

No, he was playing the game once again because it remained a challenge to him, and because he lived for it. “I have nothing to prove,” Plante said, “because I’m not going to get any better. At my age it is all down for me. I play because this is what I like to do best.”⁷

In August it was announced that the returning Plante had been added to the extended roster of Team Canada as the WHA prepared to have its own version of the Summit Series. For the 45-year-old Plante, it was the first time that he had put on the jersey of his country. It was also a rare instance when he wasn’t the oldest player. Gordie Howe, 10 months older, also skated for the team. Sadly, Plante would only be a spectator, as a valiant if not undermanned Team Canada lost to the powerful Soviet squad.

One of the major considerations behind the signing of Plante was the Oilers’ desire to sell tickets to their new rink, the Northlands Coliseum, capacity 15,326. It was quite an improvement from the home rink they had used in their first two seasons, the Edmonton Gardens, capacity 5,200.

Sunday, November 10, marked the grand opening of the Coliseum, coinciding with Plante’s debut as an Oiler. The opposition would be provided by the Cleveland Crusaders and their star goalie, Gerry Cheevers, two-time Stanley Cup winner with the Boston Bruins. This perfect confluence of events and legendary goalies resulted in the game’s being sold out two days before the puck dropped. Workers were installing the last seats mere hours before the game began.

That Sunday evening, 15,326 people, the biggest crowd to watch a WHA game in the league’s three-year history, watched Plante officially become the oldest professional goaltender in the history of hockey. He didn’t disappoint: the Oilers won 4–1.

In the fall of 1974, Plante was once again the talk of the hockey world. In his first nine games with the Oilers he won eight. He was careful to point out to the media that his wins had been against the league’s best teams. “You can’t say I’ve been avoiding the tough teams like they were trying to say a couple of years back. I’ve played against Houston, Winnipeg, Toronto, New England and everybody.”⁸

“Jacques was exceptionally popular with the fans,” said Bill Hunter. “The phone would constantly ring asking if Jacques was playing tonight. He meant two to three thousand extra fans a night if not more.”⁹

Much as he had been in Toronto, Plante was a steadying, calming influence on the Oilers’ young defence corps, constantly communicating with them and directing traffic in his own end. If there was one criticism of Plante, it was that he played only at home. Not only did he not play in the road games, he didn’t even attend the games. He would stay behind in Edmonton, where he practised with the Edmonton Oil Kings, a junior team in the Western Hockey League.

“That is Bill Hunter’s decision,” Plante explained. “After he signed he said they’d try to play me at home mostly. What tires me most is the traveling part.”¹⁰

Then disaster struck. On December 11, Plante was practising with the Oil Kings when he was bowled over by an oncoming player. Struck on the side of the head by the player’s helmet, he was knocked out cold. Later, the doctors confirmed that he had suffered an injury to his ear drum that affected his equilibrium. “Right now the doctors say I can skate,” Plante announced, “but don’t think I should play because of the balance factor, if I was to pivot quickly or make a sudden shift. But they tell me it’s nothing serious really.”¹¹

Unfortunately, the doctors were wrong. Many have argued, including Bill Hunter, that Jacques Plante was never the same goaltender after that. The statistical record supports this theory. Before the accident, Plante had won eight games and lost only one. After the accident, he won seven games, lost 13 and tied one.

On December 22, he attempted to play for the Oilers, but after 18 minutes dizziness and a sick stomach forced him to leave the game.

As the calendar turned into 1975, the Oilers had the best winning percentage in their division. However, as Plante’s equilibrium problems and inconsistent play lingered, the team soon went into an unavoidable and seemingly inevitable descent down the standings.

With two games left in the season, the Oilers announced that Jacques Plante was done for the season thanks to a broken index finger. At the same time, however, Plante was quick to state that he would be returning to the Oiler nets the next season, while also announcing that the next season would definitely be his last. “I’ve had the dizzy spells all year,” he admitted. “There was no use of me complaining about that after a while. So if I was scheduled to play, I played. I was much sharper earlier in the year, when I was healthy I was playing great.”¹² The Oilers would finish the season in fifth place, and on the sidelines when the playoffs began.

After a summer spent in Switzerland with Raymonde, Jacques Plante, at the age of 46, arrived in the Edmonton Oilers training camp in mid-September. He soon found out that the team’s newest goaltending acquisition, Dave Dryden, had been handed the starting position in the nets. This helped put him at odds with Clare Drake, the Oilers’ new coach.

As camp began, Drake, eager to test the fitness of his players, set up a two-mile run. Plante, in front of all his teammates, informed the new coach that he couldn’t take the course because of his asthma. Drake calmly informed his legendary goaltender that he would run the two miles the following Monday or else, and then turned his back to Plante. The coach had the backing of the team’s owner, Bill Hunter, who stated publicly that if Plante couldn’t meet the team’s physical requirements, his contract would become null and void.

As Plante struggled to find his spot on the Oilers in the first week of October, he received a phone call from his oldest son, Michel. It was a phone call that no parent ever wants to get. Michel told him that his youngest son, Richard, had committed suicide. Michel recalled the awful moment years later: “He said to me, ‘Let me call you back,’ and he just hung up and called me back about 15 minutes later. So in that period of time he probably cried a lot. It really hurt him because he wasn’t there at the time.”¹³

Plante immediately left the Oilers training camp and returned home to Quebec.

Still grieving, Plante returned to the Oilers camp the next week. He was living a parent’s worst nightmare, but compassion and empathy were in short supply that fall in Edmonton.

At camp he was confronted by a coach who didn’t want him on the team, and the team’s ownership was searching for ways to get out of his contract. Plante’s fall of discontent was compounded by an inter-squad game in front of the public, in which he was roundly booed by the crowd for allowing seven goals.

A few nights later, on October 9, the Oilers played their final exhibition game of the pre-season against the Calgary Cowboys. With the regular season starting the next night against the Minnesota Fighting Saints, the Oilers attempted to cancel the game because of poor ticket sales, yet Calgary refused.

Clare Drake’s decision to carry two goaltenders meant that Jacques Plante was the odd man out. He played the first two periods of the exhibition game that night, allowing three goals on 17 shots. That night’s crowd of 1,620 had witnessed the final game of Jacques Plante’s glorious hockey career.

A few days later, Plante was told there wasn’t a space for him on the team’s roster. He quietly returned home.

There was no press conference. There were no ceremonies to honour a man whose contributions to the game were immense. There was no farewell tour. It would be another week before the Oilers took the trouble to announce in a press release that Plante had retired from the game. Even that announcement was pushed out of the sports headlines by Carlton Fisk’s home run in game six of the World Series.

It was an inglorious exit for a man who had forever changed the game, a sad and silent ending to the greatest goaltending career the sport of hockey had ever known. On the day of the press release, there wasn’t a goalie in professional hockey that wasn’t sporting a mask. Jacques Plante the player may have left the game, but Jacques Plante’s legacy would forever be an integral part of hockey’s fabric.