The 7 Year War

Love it or hate it, the World Hockey Association turned the sport on its ear when it needed it most...

My first visit to the Hockey Hall of Fame was certainly memorable.

I took in the exhibits; goalie masks (a personal favourite) and of course, gazed reverently at the Stanley Cup.  As a 15 year old from a small town, being in hockey’s greatest shrine and Canada’s largest city was a blast. As I left the hall, souvenir bag in hand, I suddenly realised that I was a bit short of funds. Like many teenagers, my math skills were sorely lacking. As I stood on Front Street wondering how I would get to the north end of the city to meet my Father, I suddenly heard a voice yelling at me. “Hey kid, you need a ride?” I looked up to see a grinning, middle-aged man at the wheel of an orange Taxicab across the street. I was about to wave him off when he promptly pulled a u-turn and pulled up next to me. I sheepishly thanked him for the offer but explained I wouldn’t be able to pay for the ride. The man nodded then suddenly looked down at the bag I was holding. Noticing the Hall of Fame logo, his smile sharply returned. “Oh, you went to the Hall of Fame, are you a big hockey fan?”   I told him I was though, that was certainly an understatement. In spite of my inability to pay, the driver refused to take no for an answer and told me his shift was about to end anyways. As he put it - “Anything for a young hockey fan.” To be honest, I felt a bit embarrassed and attempted to make small talk with the driver. After a minute or two, he started asking me about hockey. As we spoke I found myself impressed by his thoughts and insights on the game and its history. It turns out the driver of my Taxicab was more than a hockey fan; he was retired goaltender Al Smith. 

  

“Did you see the Avco Trophy?” he asked, “I was on the team that won the first one.” Despite my age, I considered myself a hockey historian who was quite knowledgeable about the game. At that moment however, I struggled to remember what the Avco Trophy was. I had heard the name a few times but couldn’t offer a coherent answer to Mr. Smith.

The War Begins...

The Avco World Trophy was in fact, the championship of the World Hockey Association, the scrappy circuit that dragged the NHL out of the dark ages of professional sport. The WHA began in 1972 with a collection of millionaires who had dollar signs in their eyes. It ended seven years later in a melancholy merger with the NHL after both sides had been nearly bled dry. During its run the WHA embraced European talent, set records for on-ice fights, drew Gordie Howe out of retirement, and helped set the stage for hockey’s offensive era of the 80’s & early 90’s.

Al Smith was a typical candidate for the WHA. A goalie for the Detroit Red Wings and Toronto Maple Leafs interminably rutted in the back-up role, he was now being offered ten times his NHL salary to become starting netminder of the New England Whalers.

“It was nuts” Smith chuckled as we drove up University Avenue.  “A lot of us guys the WHA signed had no idea what was in store or even if the league would last a year. We were just happy to get a salary bump and we hoped that they were serious and the money was real. Then they went and gave Bobby Hull a Million bucks, and we had a league.” 

Al Smith with the New England Whalers

Bobby Hull’s Million signaled the death of the NHL’s miserly monopoly on hockey talent.

For well over a decade, the Chicago Blackhawks superstar was the unquestioned face and spirit of the franchise. Over time however, the relationship between Hull and Blackhawks ownership began to thaw. The spring of 1971 saw the two sides engaged in a public contract dispute that was becoming increasingly bitter with each passing week. Seizing on the opportunity and in desperate need of a star to give the new league credibility, WHA brass began devising a plan to land the “Golden Jet”.

It would be at a football game of all places, where the WHA would make its biggest move. The 1971 Grey Cup, symbol of Canadian football supremacy, was being held in Vancouver. When Winnipeg Jets owner Ben Hatskin got wind of news that Hull would be in attendance, he quickly hopped a plane and flew to the west coast. 

Hatskin set up shop in the hotel across the street from where Hull was staying and paid someone to be on the “look out” for him. Eventually word got to the hockey star that there was a gentleman in the next hotel who had a business proposition. Intrigued, Hull met with Hatskin in his suite and after the usual handshakes and weather talk, Hatskin went straight to work and told Hull that he wanted him to come and play hockey in Winnipeg. While flattered, Hull was somewhat dismissive of Hatskin’s interest in his services. In spite of the now strained relationship between him and Chicago management, Hull felt obligated to re-sign with his NHL team.

In the weeks following the Vancouver meeting, Hull’s agent phoned him to say that the WHA was still pestering him about a contract, and had asked what amount it would take to get a deal done? Feeling mildly annoyed at the upstart leagues’ persistence, Hull blurted out, “Tell them I want a Million bucks.” In a follow up phone call just days later, Hull asked how the WHA had taken the news regarding his outrageous salary demand, his agent paused a moment and replied, “They told me not to do anything and that they would get back to me in a couple of days.”  The normally outspoken Hull was speechless.

Recognizing what Bobby Hull could bring to their league, the WHA took up a collection amongst its franchises to cover salary and signed the “Golden Jet” to a 10 year- $2.7 Million contract.

Reaction from the NHL and Chicago ownership was swift to say the least. The Blackhawks filed a restraining order and managed to block Hull from joining the Jets. Furious, the WHA took the established league to court to challenge the order. It was during this process that one of the NHL’s most underhanded legal practices was exposed.

The league claimed that Bobby Hull was property of the Chicago Blackhawks even though he was not signed to a contract for the 1972-73 Season. Their rationale: “The Reserve Clause” an insidious part of every NHL player’s contract that automatically renewed itself by one year when the term expired. In short, the Reserve Clause chained a player to his team in perpetuity. The only way he could leave was via a trade or retirement.

Thankfully for Bobby Hull, the WHA and subsequently every hockey player who currently draws a pay cheque, the appeals case was presided over by Judge Aloyisius Leon Higginbotham. A prominent civil rights advocate who in the twilight of his career would be awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, Higginbotham was never one to mince words. In his ruling he called out the NHL for its draconian labour practices, likening them to indentured servitude. He went on to say the league was in essence, a monopoly and that its precious reserve clause was nothing more than restraint of trade. It was a scathing indictment of the NHL and the hockey establishment in general, punctuated by Higginbotham remarking, “Nobody, owns nobody.” 

"The Golden Jet has landed!" Hull arrives in Winnipeg

The restraining order was lifted and the NHL scurried off to lick its wounds. Cut deeply by Judge Higginbotham’s ruling and harsh critique of how it operates, the NHL began to hemorrhage players. Bobby Hull finally joined the Jets and stars like Gerry Cheevers and Derek Sanderson who were already playing for the Cleveland Crusaders & Philadelphia Blazers respectively, breathed a sigh of relief. Superstar in hand, the WHA celebrated victory and intended to prove it was a serious alternative to the NHL.

As the saying goes, “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

Struggle for Stability...

The World Hockey Association deserves credit for helping to shape the game we know and love today. Sadly, the bulk of their accomplishments were buried under seven years of franchise relocations, terrifying arenas and some of the most obnoxious goons to ever lace up skates.

The Philadelphia Blazers first home game had to be cancelled when their Zamboni took a chunk out of the ice at the Civic Center. Derek Sanderson, star Centre and the Blazers marquee player, was given the unfortunate task of informing the thousands in attendance that the game was being called off. Within moments of the announcement, hundreds of souvenir pucks which the Blazers had handed out to their fans were being thrown Sanderson’s way.  Believe it or not the nightmarish home opener was just the beginning of Derek Sanderson’s troubles in Philadelphia. Known as a hard drinking playboy who loved to party, Sanderson seemed more interested in opening night clubs and dating, than shoring up the fragile franchise he played for – and it showed. Sanderson dealt with a variety of minor injuries common amongst players with poor conditioning. Just weeks later, he would slip on debris left on the ice and injure his back. Blazers ownership, tired of paying for a super star that rarely played, had enough. Philadelphia offered Sanderson, with just 8 games under his belt, a lump sum of $1 Million to void his contract. By the conclusion of the 1972-73 Season Sanderson was back with the Boston Bruins and the Blazers pulled up stakes and moved to Vancouver. They would not be the only team in search of greener pastures.

In the eyes of WHA founders Gary Davidson and Dennis Murphy, the league needed a franchise in New York. Originally the New York Raiders were to call the new arena built on Long Island home. NHL President Clarence Campbell, well known for his spiteful nature, announced suddenly that the league was placing an expansion team in that very arena and in Atlanta. Not wanting to lose out on the New York market, the Raiders agreed to lease Madison Square Garden but the team paid through the nose in rent. By 1973-74 the Raiders were sold to real estate mogul Ralph Brent and renamed the Golden Blades. With an average attendance of 507 fans per game in an arena that comfortably held 18,000, Brent’s newest business venture was drowning in debt. In early November, 1973 he gave up the Golden Blades to the WHA who swiftly relocated the team to Cherry Hill, New Jersey. Cherry Hill Arena was once chosen by “Sports Illustrated” as "perhaps the worst facility used by any WHA team.”  If you asked any player who skated there, they would likely tell you the publication was being generous. The rink had no shower in the visitors’ dressing room which forced teams to show up from the hotel in full gear. The player benches weren’t actually benches, but rather sets of circular stools attached to large metal arms. And worst of all was the ice surface which was noticeably uneven and forced visiting teams to literally skate up-hill for two periods.

Thankfully for players and the league, the Jersey Knights were sold and left Cherry Hill for San Diego at the conclusion of the season. While Cherry Hill Arena was a dreadful facility, it was not the only cringe worthy building to house a WHA franchise.

The Chicago Cougars boasted star players Ralph Backstrom, Dave Dryden and Pat Stapleton. In contrast, the International Amphitheatre was hardly a complimentary arena. Situated on the stockyards of Chicago’s south side, the Amphitheatre’s close proximity to area slaughter houses made life difficult for fans and players with weak stomachs. Chicken wire was used instead of glass above the boards resulting in countless scrapes and cuts. And as if to illustrate the creepiness of having a hockey arena so close to buildings where livestock was being slaughtered, sub-standard wiring caused overhead lights to flicker and even burst in the middle of games. In spite of their questionable home, the Cougars were one of only a handful of WHA teams to stay in one city.

In its seven year history the WHA saw 14 franchises relocate. While a majority of these occurred during the off season, a few teams moved mid-year. The tale of the Ottawa Civics is legendary. The Denver Spurs joined the league in 1975 after owner Ivan Mullenix became frustrated with not getting an NHL franchise. Fans in the “Mile High City” seemed underwhelmed with the Spurs, and by late December Mullenix began speaking with a group of potential investors in Ottawa. While interested in bringing major pro hockey back to Canada’s capital, the group insisted that the Spurs immediately relocate to Ottawa as a sign of good faith by Mullenix. So on January, 2 1976 the Spurs quietly tip-toed out of Denver and became the Ottawa Civics. News of the teams’ cloak & dagger relocation came as quite a shock to fans and media. Though without question, those most surprised by the move were the players. The team was scheduled to play in Cincinnati the following day and wasn’t told by Mullenix or anyone in management about the relocation. As they took to the ice at Riverfront Coliseum, Spurs players were visibly confused when “O’ Canada” began playing. The move to Ottawa took place so frantically that the Civics never officially adopted a logo. They instead left the Spurs classic “Cowboy Boot” emblem on their sweaters. In all, the Civics played just seven games, two of which were in Ottawa, and managed a single win before folding on January 17th. In the end, the group which insisted Mullenix move the Spurs to Ottawa as a sign of good faith didn’t have the financial backing they claimed. 

Legend has it that an Ottawa Civics emblem was designed and set to be released at the end of January. In retrospect, it’s not surprising the team created an identity as it was beginning to collapse. In many ways the Spurs/Civics fiasco personified the chaotic nature of the World Hockey Association. Sadly, Ottawa hockey fans would suffer without a pro team until 1992 when the NHL revived the Senators.

(L)The Denver Spurs continued using their logo after becoming the Ottawa Civics. (R) The alleged Civics logo

The Beer Rebellion & Merger...

While the idea of the WHA merging with the NHL in some fashion was not unheard of, by 1977 there was renewed interest in the idea. Both leagues were suffering financially as a result of competing against each other and executives from both sides felt hockey would be best served with one united league in play.

At the annual NHL Board of Governors meetings in 1977 a proposal to merge the following year and admit the Cincinnati Stingers, Edmonton Oilers, Houston Aeros, New England Whalers, Quebec Nordiques & Winnipeg Jets was narrowly defeated. Ever resentful of the WHA for “stealing” talent from their rosters earlier in the decade, a group of NHL owners headed by the Molson family in Montreal and Toronto’s Harold Ballard, helped kill the merger. Montreal had no desire to share their market with the Quebec Nordiques and see a reduction in their chunk of Canadian television revenues. Ballard for his part had always hated the WHA. This only intensified when the Toronto Toros began play in his NHL team’s backyard.

A second merger vote in 1979 was again defeated by the anti-WHA bloc. In response, fans in Edmonton, Quebec and Winnipeg organized a boycott of Molson Beer products. In solidarity, fans in Vancouver also took part after learning Canucks ownership had voted down the merger as well. Over time the “Ban the Bottle” campaign spread like wildfire as hockey fans across Canada seemed outraged at the establishment for picking on the “little guys”.

Anyone who says protest does nothing, could learn a thing or two from Canadian hockey fans.

As a result of slumping beer sales as well as mounting pressure from fans and new NHL President John Ziegler, an emergency meeting was held in Chicago. After three hours of debate, the NHL Board of Governors voted 14-3 in favour of merging with the WHA for the 1979-80 Season. While there was finally reason for WHA fans to celebrate, there was also reason for concern. The merger conditions imposed by the NHL were brutally harsh. Only the Oilers, Nordiques, Jets and Whalers would be allowed to join the league and would be treated as expansion clubs. They would also be forced to endure a dispersal draft that enabled established NHL teams to reclaim any players they lost to the WHA. This condition practically stripped the four teams bare as they were only permitted to protect two goalies and two skaters. The Whalers would be obligated to drop “New England” from its name as the Boston Bruins didn’t want to be over shadowed in the New England market. And perhaps most insulting of all, the four teams were seeded at the bottom order of the 1979 NHL Entry Draft. All but ensuring the cream of the crop would only go to the established NHL clubs.

 The seven year ride was over and the World Hockey Association was laid to rest. For the men who skated for hockey’s great pretender, there was a degree of relief as many of them rejoined the NHL – including my generous Taxicab driver, Al Smith. In his eye, the WHA while short-lived helped the game of hockey in ways most players and fans don’t realize.

“The WHA changed hockey, anyone who says different is crazy” imparted Smith. 

Indeed, the WHA out of creativity or necessity approached the game in ways the NHL never dared to. It recruited talent from Europe where the NHL viewed players as “soft”. It raided Canada’s junior leagues and in the process, scooped up players like Mike Gartner, Ken Linseman and a scrawny nobody named Wayne Gretzky.  As a result of the on-ice magic these and many other young guns displayed, the NHL lowered the draft age making it easier for future stars to begin their careers sooner. And for the players themselves, the WHA is the reason they earn the kind of money other professional athletes enjoy.

The legacy and the lunacy that was the World Hockey Association should always be a part of any hockey history lesson. A league that both embraced and endured change, the WHA pulled hockey out of its complacency. It helped and in many ways forced, the sport to evolve.

Perhaps the most poignant moment that best sums up the “rebel league” came in the 1973 WHA final. When Al Smith and his New England Whaler team mates had won the league title, the Avco World Trophy was not available because it wasn’t finished being constructed. It seems that WHA management had submitted the order have the trophy built later than they should. As a result of their folly, the Whalers skated around their rink that night with the Eastern Division Trophy.

As I exited the Taxicab, I couldn’t thank Al Smith enough for his help but also for sharing his thoughts on the late, great World Hockey Association. I had a renewed appreciation for how it changed hockey, one I still hold to this day.

“Yeah, it was quite a ride” said Smith. He took the words right out of my mouth.

@HockeyCynic