After a reporter poses a question, he usually issues statements utterly unrelated to the query. He elevates the evasion of questions to a martial art. SCOTTY Bowman defies conventional portraiture. Why did this sound strange? Because we thought you always wanted to confuse them and, by extension, us. You claimed that you'll have to coach better for the Wings to win a second straight Stanley Cup and for you to win your ninth career ring. On Tuesday night, you said: "I confused them." You were talking about mixing up your lines and mixing up your team. If we asked you why you tick, you'd say you tock. We'd say we don't know what makes you tick, except we can't even say for sure that you do tick. What you'll do next, we'll guess at and most often be wrong. We have no idea what goes on in there, Scotty Bowman. You've spent a lifetime in the spotlight, and we are resigned to bafflement. Now, you're the legend, winner of more than a thousand games, owner of eight rings, with a ninth two victories away. In expansion days, you were a boy wonder, the National Hockey League's youngest coach, and we thought we had a handle on who you are: a pusher, a driver. You are standing behind the bench again this spring in that familiar pose, chin raised, bottom lip smugly lapped over the upper. You won’t be able to read it on an iPhone but on a laptop you should be okay. A lot has happened in the quarter century since.Īnd at the foot of today’s SubStack for paid subscribers I’ve included a pull from June 1966: Red Fisher’s story about the St Louis Blues hiring Bowman. I’ve added a handful of footnotes to enrich your reading. The piece landed on the Best American Sports Writing ’s notable list. If you’d prefer some honesty, well, continue reading and you’ll hit the Globe and Mail feature that I wrote about Bowman in June 1998, when Bowman’s Red Wings were posted to sweep the Washington Capitals to win their second consecutive Stanley Cup. You’d think Bowman fathered and grandfathered his teams to championships, like the Canadiens’ line-up was filled out by Ward Cleaver. If you like you’re Hockey Hall of Famers all warm and cuddly, this is your ticket. The in-house lore-master David Stubbs typed up this epic hagiography today. The standard of this stuff would have issued of course for what passes for hockey’s state media, nhl.com. I’m sure there’ll be a few fawning stories about Bowman. Added value: Nice little side hustle, taking money to talk broadcasters you previously shunned.ĭoes this sound too cold-blooded and mean-spirited? These are always the risks I run when I’m being honest. Only after he coached his last game did Bowman figure out that he could be imperious with his players but would be farther ahead if he were cynically transactional with the fourth estate. Yeah, they would write Valentine’s letters in exchange for an interview and to ensure that he’d take their next call. He put it together that by granting sportswriters and broadcasters access, they’d gloss over past indignities and all the dark stuff. I’m put off by the way many in the media aided and abetted him in this rewriting. In his dotage, made himself into a good guy, a real teddy bear. In his halcyon days, he was an unlikeable bastard, a tyrant to his players, an asshole to the media. I’m just put off by the way he has managed to rewrite his personal narrative. Look, I don’t begrudge him his good health and longevity. WILLIAM SCOTT BOWMAN celebrates his 90th birthday today, to which I offer a tepid many-happy-returns.
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