I’VE ALWAYS FELT fortunate to have played hockey when I did. My National Hockey League career, which ran from 1950–71, coincided with the second half of the league’s “Original Six” era, the period from 1942–67 in which there were only six teams. It was an honor to be one of just 120 players playing NHL hockey. And it was an honor to be a member of the Montreal Canadiens, a team that won five straight Stanley Cups (1956–60)—a record that may stand forever.
As with every young Quebecer, it was my childhood dream to wear the Canadiens jersey. As true then as it is now, young fans around the world wanted to wear the jersey of their hometown team or their favorite hockey hero. It was a dream shared by the players. In my day, money came second; we didn’t worry too much about our contracts, though maybe we should have. What mattered to us at that time was the opportunity to wear the uniform and become part of our beloved teams. That was such a great joy for me, and for all of us who took to the ice in the Original Six era. It’s been sixty years since I first pulled on the bleu-blanc-rouge, a jersey I was privileged to wear through my entire career.
With only six franchises, the tone of the competition was different. Rivalries were more intense than they are today. We played each team fourteen times in a season (seven games at home and seven away), which really allowed the intensity of the match-ups to develop. It also meant we could learn how each team and individual athletes played, and we could adjust our game accordingly. Montreal had a particularly strong rivalry with the Toronto Maple Leafs, which continues to this day. Along with those contests, I also always enjoyed match-ups against Detroit. The Canadiens and the Red Wings were both strong offensive teams, so fans at those games got to watch great back-and-forth action. I especially liked to face the Alex Delvecchio and Norm Ullman lines, and I also enjoyed playing at the old Detroit Olympia. That rink had the best ice. Unfortunately, like many of the old arenas, the building no longer exists.
But, really, I loved playing against all five teams. Stan Mikita, Bobby Hull, and the rest of the Chicago Black Hawks were formidable opponents. Toronto, with Tim Horton in its line-up, was a fast, close-checking team. We always knew that we were in for a tough game with Boston—with Leo Boivin, Johnny Bucyk, and a few others on the ice. And in New York, we watched for Andy Bathgate and his superb scoring touch.
As a Montreal Canadien, I played with some of the best players of the era. The great Maurice “Rocket” Richard, of course: he and I formed an impressive power-play line with Bert Olmstead or Dickie Moore, and with Doug Harvey and Bernie “Boom-Boom” Geoffrion on the point. One day, Coach Toe Blake told me that he was going to put me on a line with the youngsters—Dick Duff, Yvan Cournoyer, Gilles Tremblay, and Bobby Rousseau, and I didn’t mind at all. I advised them to not change their style of play because they were playing with me. “Play your game,” I told them. I’ve always known that the only way to win is to play as a group, to be a team, and to help each other.
As a centerman, I was always aware of the importance of strong defensive players, and I had the opportunity to play with and against some outstanding blueliners. In 1953 I played with Émile “Butch” Bouchard, the Canadiens’ captain when I joined the team. He was a big, strong defenseman—tenacious but never vicious, and always ready to step in. Doug Harvey and Bobby Orr (whose amazing rookie season occurred in the final year before the NHL expanded beyond the Original Six) were great defensemen: the best ever, as far as I’m concerned. And let’s not forget the final line of defense. The key to winning is a strong goalie who can keep you in the game and save you when you need it. Jacques Plante won many games for the Canadiens, as other goaltending greats from his era did for their teams: Terry Sawchuk for Detroit and Johnny Bower in Toronto. Great players manned all of the positions.
Hockey in the golden era of the fifties and early sixties was different from today’s fast-paced game. Although we had many fast skaters then too, overall the game seems to have sped up. Yet I have a feeling that the most talented players of my era could have adjusted their game and become valuable competitors in today’s NHL. I certainly would have enjoyed playing alongside some of the fast and skilled players currently on the ice.
And what about the tough guys? Has the game changed when it comes to fighting and body-checking? It’s difficult to say, of course. Personally, my approach was always to play according to the rules—I was a skilled skater and shooter, not a fighter. But we had some tough players in the league in my day as well. My teammate “Rocket” Richard was involved in some spectacular fights, especially against Detroit’s tough guy Ted Lindsay. But Montreal was a small-statured squad for many years and General Manager Frank Selke thought we were being manhandled by some of the bigger teams, so in the early sixties he made some trades for larger players. In 1963, we acquired John Ferguson and Ted Harris, two big and tough players, and were able to play a more physical game; in fact, they helped us recapture the Cup in 1965 and 1966. The whole team contributed to those wins, but the presence of some larger, more physical players definitely helped our game.
Perhaps the biggest change that NHL hockey has undergone since the Golden Era is how the game is covered. From newspaper to radio, from television to the Internet—the evolution has been stunning. Just as today, however, the sports media then was essential to the development of hockey. Newspaper writers and broadcasters—the great Foster Hewitt, René Lecavalier, and Danny Gallivan to name a few—reported on each team’s progress and allowed fans to follow the action in a game. But as the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words, and so the work of the photographers was invaluable to hockey fans who would check the daily papers and weekend magazines for images of their favorite players, especially before everyone could watch the games on their high-definition TVs, computers, or even smartphones.
The Original Six period was a golden era for photography. An outstanding example was the work of Harold Barkley, the gentleman photographer who did so much to change the way the game was photographed. Barkley, with his technical innovations and instinct for capturing the on-ice action, was responsible for bringing the game and players into the homes of fans across the country.
Hockey provided a great life for me, and I’m grateful to have played during the NHL’s Golden Era. I’m also grateful to photographers like Barkley since, because of their work, I can look back at these outstanding images and vividly remember my days on the ice: the intense competition and wonderful camaraderie, and our shared passion for the great game of hockey.
Jean Béliveau, 2011