Tuesday night, after attending to some family business, the wife, five-year-old son and I made the trek down to the waterfront here in Toronto to attend the 2009 edition of the Canadian National Exhibition, better known as the CNE, or the Ex, or the grand rip-off, or the sad summer fair that used to mean so much to a city but has been surpassed by year-round theme parks, the internet and twitter.

Regardless, we usually attend the CNE every year.  My wife is a lifelong Toronto girl, and remembers when the place used to matter.  Then again, stop any 16-year-old and they’ll probably tell you what a bitchin’ place it is.  Do they still say bitchin?

Once we navigated our way through the two dollar games, and the fast food stands, and the haunted houses that aren’t scary in-the-least, and the kids’ rides that look like they’ve been in service since 1957, we found our way to the Queen Elizabeth Building, which really does look like it was built in 1957.

The place was jam packed with a dog’s breakfast of booths offering a cornucopia of stuff you really don’t want, unless you’re hungry, tired, and confused at the CNE.  Booths full of scarves, wooden boards with your family name on it, clothes for your dog, overpriced fudge, boring BBC movies, wooden shoes, cheesy t-shirts with YOUR FACE HERE, and hockey cards.

Ahh, an oasis in a sea of suffering, and like a seasoned traveller, I knew where to find this watering hole, because every year they put the same tired old booths in the same tired old places.  Why not change things up a bit?  Then again, consider the type of people who pay good money for the pleasure of dragging their tired feet around the CNE grounds.  Most of these folk probably do not want to have to think, particularly after carrying around an oversized stuffed banana or SpongeBob doll they won at the baseball toss booth, after shelling out over 27 dollars for it.

My wife wandered off to look at the jewelry, while my son and I made a beeline for this great looking plaque of Gerry Cheevers making a kick save.  The dude at the booth only wanted about 50 bucks for it, and no, it wasn’t signed, but man it looked fine.

Couldn’t justify the cost, not after snaring a signed Bernie Parent photo at an auction at the Air Canada Centre last season that now hangs proudly in my home office.  So, we turned our attention to the forgotten stepchild of the collectable industry…hockey cards.

Or in this case, a wonderful, jumbled assortment of hockey and baseball cards from the past thirty-five years.  Most were from the Glut Years; 1990 through to about 2000.  The years that almost killed my interest in the hobby, when everyone and their Mom thought that they’d get rich by purchasing a room full of Eric Lindros rookie cards and then stashing them away.

Didn’t work that way.  The vast majority of people who got into the sports card industy at that point were buying high..and later selling low.  Or just plain dumping them.

For once in my life, I was on the right end of a trend, having started collecting in 1973.  By the mid-90’s, I bought the odd hockey and baseball card set, and particular singles of players I followed, but that was the extent of my interest.  Now that my kid is at the age where he’s noticed sports cards, it’s reinvigorated my interest, and appreciation, for those colourful pieces of cardboard.

Yes, I’ve kept all of my cards from my childhood, and most of them are in fine shape.  I could probably get a good amount of cash for them, IF I chose to sell, and IF someone wanted to purchase them (always the big if in the equation), but I have no intention of doing that.  Those cards are a wonderful time tunnel back to simpler days, when all I cared about was what teams would do on the ice, not in late-night bars, or in the back of taxi cabs, or in courtrooms in Phoenix.

Plus, my kid has no idea that these things have any worth.  What does he know about economics, he thinks I’m a human money machine.  He’s interested in sports cards because they look cool, as he says.

We waded through the box of commons, looking for the Magnificent Seven, because the CNE special offered seven cards for five bucks.   That sounded like fun, though in truth, seven cards in this commons box added up would be lucky to break the two dollar mark in overall value.

Right away my son found a Pavel Bure card, in the beautiful away blue Rangers uniform, that he didn’t already have.  That was card number one, for after all, he thinks Bure still plays and the Russian Rocket is his favourite player.  The truth can wait for later.

Then he got all excited about a Tom Draper card.  Tom Draper?  Sorry, it’s not about the money, but dammit if I was going to spend more than five cents on a Draper card, especially when I have about a half-dozen at home.  We moved on.

Next, he stumbled upon a legends card with Milt Schmidt on it.  Seeing the Bruins logo, my kid’s face broke into a wide grin and he recited the words I whispered to him when he was still in his crib.  “Number Four, Bobby Orr”.

I dropped the Murray Bannerman card I was looking at (and already had), and took a look.  Could it be?

Naw.  It was Uncle Milty.  A nice find, but since it was a modern card, it wasn’t special enough to make our Magnificent Seven.

Next to that card was a Reg Leach from my favourite O-Pee-Chee/Topps set of all-time, the very colourful 71-72 set.  What a find!   No way the guy in the booth would cast aside a card from that set into his commons box. 

And he didn’t.  It was a fine looking reprint that was part of the 2002 Topps Archive set.  Nonetheless, I don’t have all of the original 71-72 set, and seeing that the price for those babies has risen considerably, I never will.  This copy will suffice.  Also found a Peter McNab reprint (75-76) and a Mike Milbury reprint (78-79) that I already had as originals, but they looked so good just sitting there atop a motley collection of worthless computer-perfect modern cards, that I had to have them.

We now had four of our Magnificent Seven.

By now, my son had lost interest, and having located his Mom walking by, implored her to buy him ice cream.  Undaunted, I soldiered on.

Entry number five took me away from hockey; it was a simple, yet tasty Bill Gullickson card (1985) in his beautiful white Montreal Expos uniform.  Anything Expos I’d buy, heck, I’d buy the team if they’d let me.  Thought I already had this card, but just in case, I had to take this puppy home.

Card number six was also baseball.  Tom McCraw of the Cleveland Indians (1976), the Topps set the year before I started collecting baseball cards.  And this was no reprint.  This was the real deal.  Which doesn’t really mean anything, for who remembers Tom McCraw except the McCraw family, and die-hard White Sox fans?

Card number seven is where I genuinely got excited.  When I found it, I looked around in order to find someone to share my joy with.  Alas, I was surrounded by Philistines.  Where was Scott Laughlin when you needed him?  He would have understood.

For there in my hands, framed by an ungodly mix of purple and pink borders, looking sharp in his yellow-and-green Athletics uniform, was Herb Washington.

This is the guy that wacky old Charlie O. Finley signed to a contract to be a pinch runner.  A pinch runner.  Washington was a track star at Michigan State, and Finley signed him in 1974 only to pinch run.  Nothing else.  Just run.

Which he did.  During his brief two-year MLB career, Washington got into 105 games, stole 31 bases, and got caught stealing 17 times.  He scored 33 runs, which means to me this guy wasn’t able to take full advantage of his speed out there.  More to base stealing that running fast.  Worse, he got picked off second during a World Series game.

Still, this card was the only time Topps ever released a pinch runner card.  Had to have it.  I now have it.

Which got me to thinking, will we ever see a day when an NHL team carries a designated shooter?  Someone who’s awesome at the shootout, but would be a liability during the normal course of a game.  You’d only carry him on the bench to be that big stick come the skills competition.

One name leapt to mind - Jason Allison.  That dude was a pure goal scorer.  That dude also made me look good on skates.  He might be a perfect candidate for the role.  Does it specify anywhere in the NHL rulebook that a player has to wear skates on ice?  What about gumboots?  Maybe Allison could take the deciding shot in boots, or broomball shoes.

Maybe that’s why the Maple Leafs invited Allison to training camp.

It turns out Herb Washington has, or had, a hockey connection.  He was the owner of the Youngstown Steelhawks of the CHL, from 2005 to 2008.  The team folded after that, and Herb nows owns a number of McDonald’s franchises in Youngstown and Greenville, Pennsylvania.  Fast food for a fast guy.

Please say hi to him for me if you’re in the area.  Tell him I finally found his card.  Can’t wait for the Jason Allison DS card.

- Mick Kern

It’s not like the Baseball Hall of Fame, where fans and media engage in debates as to which cap the likes of catcher Gary Carter should don when he was finally enshrined in Cooperstown.  The Kid came to fame with the Montreal Expos, but reached the pinnacle of his career with the 1986 New York Mets, combining clutch hitting and some fortuitous bounces in downing the Houston Astros and Boston Red Sox as New York’s 2nd team became the toast of the town after winning the World Series.

Even though the player has a say in the decision, the tall foreheads at Cooperstown have the final word, and they went with the tricolour of the now defunct Expos, which did not sit well with Mr. 7-Up, who no doubt envisioned a healthy amount of appearance money flying away, thanks to the prospect of having to sign his John Hancock on BHOF memorabilia bearing the logo of a dead franchise, instead of the mighty Mets. 

Carter himself publicly showed his disdain for that choice, when he was recently introduced at the Baseball All-Star Game.  Festooned in the distinctive Expos cap, he also made a point of holding up a Mets cap.  There was no sign of a Dodgers, or Giants cap, even though he also suited up briefly for those franchises.

William Scott Bowman didn’t have to make that choice when he was handed the gold key to the Hockey Hall of Fame back in 1991.  At that point in his storied career, Scotty Bowman had won five Stanley Cups as the head coach of the Montreal Canadiens, in addition to three Cup Final appearances with the expansion St. Louis Blues.  Bowman’s tenure in Buffalo did not end in the manner he would have liked, and after a few years in TV, he returned to the league with the emerging Pittsburgh Penguins.

At the time of his departure from the Sabres, Bowman was already one of the greatest NHL coaches of all-time.  If he had never again stepped behind an NHL bench, his legend was sealed.  As life would have it, Penguins’ head coach Bob Johnson was struck with brain cancer, and tragically passed away in November of 1991.

The defending Stanley Cup Champions mourned for their beloved coach, and got back to the business of defending their title…with Bowman as their new head coach. 

The Penguins were a juggernaut, and swept aside Bowman wannabe Mike Keenan and his Chicago Blackhawks in the Cup Final.  Bowman won likely his most unexpected Cup, which just added to his legend.

Except there was a considerable backlash building against the Master.  There were many who clung to the faulted belief that anyone could have coached the late 70’s Canadiens to victory, that all Bowman had to do was open the door on the bench.  The same surface criticism was levelled at Bowman about these talented Penguins, and it only intensified the following spring when the heavily-favoured Pens fell in Game Seven overtime to David Volek and the New York Islanders.

Bowman moved on to the eternally under-achieving Detroit Red Wings, and initially experienced a bumpy ride with the Wings, including a sweep in the 1995 Final at the hands of the New Jersey Devils, coached by former Bowman disciple Jacques Lemaire.  Suddenly, the naysayers were emboldened with fresh evidence that Bowman was overrated.

Undaunted, the Red Wings did what any champion does.  They refused to panic.  They didn’t blow things up and start again.  They stayed the course, made the changes they deemed logical, and were rewarded with back-to-back Stanley Cups in 1997 and 1998.

The 1997 celebration remains, for me, the most joyous post-game celebration I have ever watched on television.  The pent-up frustrations and expectations of Red Wing fans finally had a platform for release, and Bowman took part in the festivities, donning skates and hoisting the Cup.

The Master would put an appropriate exclaimation point on his stellar career, capturing the Cup one final time in 2002, his final year behind the bench.  In total, William Scott Bowman won nine Stanley Cups, and led a team to the Final on an additional four occasions.

He set seemingly unassailable records for games and Cups won.  Along the way, he alienated players and fans alike with his style, but both parties understood one plain fact about Bowman.  He was a winner.

So when Bowman decided to jump ship and join the resurgent Chicago Blackhawks as an advisor (joining his son Stan in the Chicago front office), he once again exhibited a perfect sense of timing.  The Master tested the wind, and knew which way it was blowing.

During a recent game against the Red Wings, the TV cameras found Bowman in the crowd, surveying the game unfolding in front of him.  Which got me to thinking.

If Bowman was not yet in the Hockey Hall-of-Fame, and someone had to choose which NHL sweater or cap his plaque would display, which team would he represent, particularly if one was only to consider his record as an NHL head coach?

Statistics don’t always present the entire picture, but they’re a pretty good starting point.   Let’s agree that his days with the Blues and Sabres are not in the discussion, despite his early success with St. Louis.  His six plus years in Buffalo are without doubt the most disappointing of Bowman’s NHL career.  His time with Pittsburgh wasn’t long enough to warrant inclusion either.

Which means, rather obviously, it comes down to his legendary stint with the 1970’s Montreal Canadiens vs. his more recent success with the one modern dynasty still operating in the National Hockey League, the Detroit Red Wings.

In Montreal, Bowman returned to the organization he got his start in, including a Memorial Cup win in 1958.  After a power struggle in St. Louis, Bowman left and took over the reins of the Canadiens, who the season before, had won the Stanley Cup with an underrated team that featured rookie Ken Dryden in net, and was captain Jean Beliveau’s final year in the league.  The trouble was, head coach Al MacNeil was called out by Habs’ icon Henri Richard concerning ice-time during the playoffs, which the French media ate up, and even though the Pocket Rocket tried his best to calm the waters after the season was over, the damage was done.

Bowman got the job, though that 71-72 team lost in the first round in six games to New York Rangers, who made it all the way to the Cup Final, only to lose to the Bruins.

The next season, Bowman steered the Habs to first place in the East Division. in the process losing only 10 games, as Montreal regained the Stanley Cup.  But the best was yet-to-come.

After losing Dryden to a contract dispute, Montreal came up short in ‘74 and ‘75, the years of Bernie Parent, Bobby Clarke, and the Broad Street Bullies.  The emergence of superstar sniper Guy Lafleur, the maturing of the Big Three on defence, the addition of effective role players such as Bob Gainey and Doug Jarvis, and the return of Dryden all added up to a dynasty, one that won four straight Stanley Cups between 1976 and 1979.

It was on the strength of these magnificent teams that the legend of Bowman was forged.  By the time he left for Buffalo, Bowman had won five Stanley Cups in five Final appearances during his eight years with Montreal, and compiled a gaudy 419 wins in only 634 regular seasons games, as well as posting a .714 winning percentage in the post-season.  These were truly Hall-of-Fame numbers.

Fast forward to the late 1990’s, and Bowman behind the bench of the Detroit Red Wings.  During his nine-year head coaching tenure in Michigan, Bowman won three Stanley Cups in four appearances.  He won 414 regular-season games in only 706 games, and his playoff winning percentage was an impressive .642.  Along the way, in part thanks to an additional two games added on to the regular season NHL schedule, Bowman’s 95-96 Wings set a league record by winning 62 times that season, two better than the 76-77 Canadiens, coached by Bowman.

The overall numbers are similar.  The Montreal numbers are slightly more impressive, though one has to factor in the circumstances under which these two franchises operated.  The late 70’s Canadiens were the most powerful team in a league that still featured a number of weak sisters.  The Habs were challenged by the young Islanders, and the very talented Boston Bruins, but managed to overcome all obstacles during that four-year run.  Montreal and Boston were among the powerful teams that fattened their averages against the likes of the Cleveland Barons, Washington Capitals and Minnesota North Stars.

By the time Bowman was hoisting the Cup with the late 90’s Red Wings, the landscape of the NHL had changed considerably.  Thanks to better training techniques, better coaching, better goaltending, and a resulting tighter style of play, there was more parity in the league than when Bowman was with Montreal.  There were less opportunities to feast on the unfortunate, which meant less inflated numbers.  Taking all that into account, Bowman’s final stats with the Red Wings compare very favourably with his halcyon days in Montreal.

In the end, both incarnations of Bowman are deserving of accolades.  And despite what the great unwashed may rant about on internet billboards, not just anyone could have coached these teams.  It takes a special kind of coach to be able to juggle all the demands of a talented group of athletes, each of whom believes they have what it takes to be on the first line, or start in net. 

A large number of books have been written about Bowman and his coaching style.  Suffice to say, Bowman is arguably the greatest head coach in NHL history.  His two greatest stretches of accomplishements happened in Montreal, and Detroit.  Each incarnation was impressive to behold.  My heart says Scotty Bowman is first-and-foremost identified with the Montreal Canadiens, but my head says that his most impressive coaching job was with the Red Wings.

The better question might be, who would win in a best-of-seven battle between the 1977 Montreal Canadiens and the 1997 Detroit Red Wings?

- Mick Kern