Interviews with Ken Dryden and Scotty Bowman | Inside the mind of Guy Lafleur

The collective memory especially remembers, with good reason, the most prolific years of Guy Lafleur as well as his outstanding public personality. However, his success in the NHL was not instantaneous. Ken Dryden and Scotty Bowman describe the rise of a singular athlete, fully aware of his responsibility to the organization and his supporters.

Posted at 5:00 a.m.

Simon Olivier Lorange

Simon Olivier Lorange
The Press

He had just filled the QMJHL record books. He was a first choice in the draft. He had everything to succeed.

It is an understatement to say that Guy Lafleur’s arrival at the Canadiens was eagerly awaited in the fall of 1971. As the team had just won the Stanley Cup, the 20-year-old forward was not invested of the mission to “save” his club. But by arriving at the exact moment when his childhood idol, Jean Béliveau, had hung up his skates, he inherited an inevitable pressure.

Lafleur’s explosion in the NHL, however, took a bit of time. Do not get us wrong: with harvests of 64, 55 and 56 points, his first three seasons were not catastrophic. But he still scored 50 to 60 goals and 119 to 136 points in each of the next six seasons.

The Canadian of the turn of the 1970s is still a power in an NHL then composed of 14 teams. But he still straddles the legendary team of the late 1950s and the invincible hockey machine of the late 1970s.

The formation is getting younger little by little. In 1971, three names caught the eye.

Behind the bench, Montrealer Scotty Bowman, 38, is coming home after getting his start as a coach in St. Louis. Goaltender Ken Dryden, although an instant star the previous spring, is entering his first full season in the NHL. And the young prodigy Guy Lafleur is barely emerging from the junior ranks.

In interview with The Press, both Dryden and Bowman speak a low-key, even shy young man. “He didn’t say much,” recalls Bowman, now 88. He didn’t ask questions. He was above all a team player, who never placed himself in front of others. »

“One of the things that surprised me the most about Guy was that as good as he was in junior, and even though we were sure he would be successful, he always wanted to prove himself first to himself that he could play in the NHL,” explains Dryden.


PHOTO ROBERT SKINNER, LA PRESSE ARCHIVES

Ken Dryden

He never demanded a privilege. He felt he had to earn his place, blaze his own trail. In his early years, when he was not yet a star, we said to each other: he is as good as we think. But he had to figure it out and make sure it was true. Once it happened, he never stopped.

Ken Dryden

From his first season, the one who outrageously dominated the QMJHL as a center player was transferred to the wing. The Canadian counting at the time on Pete Mahovlich, Jacques Lemaire and Henri Richard, there was no room for a rookie in the center, especially with the quality of the opposition in this position at the time. Scotty Bowman lists them: Phil Esposito in Boston, Stan Mikita in Chicago, Jean Ratelle in New York, Bobby Clarke in Philadelphia.

“It was not easy to play against this kind of players, underlines the most victorious coach in the history of the circuit. It was when he moved to the right wing that he began to hatch. It made his transition to the NHL easier, especially since he could not only score goals, but also make plays. Two years later, his trio with Steve Shutt and Jacques Lemaire took off. »

The best in the world

The explosion, in fact, occurs. The success is monumental and, above all, lasting. We talk about him as the best player in the world.

Many of the tributes to him in the hours after his passing on Friday spoke of his work ethic. Executioner of training, he largely preceded his teammates on the ice and led the charge.

I didn’t really have any coaching to do, he loved to train! He wanted and loved to be the best. He always worked to improve.

Scotty Bowman

By force of circumstance, his teammates had no choice but to pick up the pace, notes Ken Dryden.

The ex-keeper, however, offers a more nuanced reading of the character. If Lafleur arrived 45 minutes before everyone else on the ice, it was not simply out of a desire to overtake.

“It was the time he had to be alone and have different experiences,” explains the man who was a Liberal member of the House of Commons from 2004 to 2011.

“He had to try things and figure them out for himself, visualize them. Once the whole team arrived, in training or in a match, he could implement what he had created in his head. »

This necessary solitude contrasts with his public image. In the 1970s, his sartorial tastes and his natural magnetism turned heads. After his retirement, he had crowds running everywhere he went.

He looked like a superstar, but didn’t act like a superstar. He was from a small town [small town kid] and has always remained true to himself. He didn’t need the spotlight. He was more comfortable alone.

Ken Dryden

To illustrate his point, the lawyer recalls his own reaction when he learned that Guy Lafleur had obtained his helicopter pilot’s license. “I asked him, ‘Where does that come from?’ he laughs.

After reflection, this passion was totally consistent with his deep nature, according to him.

“It was his chance to get up in the air, to see the big picture, to have some alone time, to think, to absorb what he was seeing. It was perfect for him. As a metaphor, at altitude, of his unique routine tested on the ice of the Forum.

Responsibility

For a long time already, the name of Lafleur has been associated with those of Maurice Richard and Jean Béliveau. The Canadian, in its rich history, has lined up dozens of players today in the Hockey Hall of Fame. But its three main pillars, in the almost unanimous opinion, are them.

At the start of the course, the pressure to succeed these two giants was immense. “It was impossible to replace Jean Béliveau, just as it was impossible to replace Maurice Richard,” recalls Scotty Bowman, however.

It was a heavy weight to bear. But he never backed down from the responsibility he had towards his teammates, but also towards the Montreal Canadiens and the legacy that was still being built.

Ken Dryden

Dryden imposes a parenthesis here. In the mid-1950s, the Habs were “one of the good teams” in the NHL. The Maple Leafs and the Red Wings, at the time, won more Stanley Cups than the Bleu-blanc-rouge. The dynasty led by Maurice Richard changes the course of history. From 1955 to 1979, the CH indeed won the Stanley Cup 15 times in 25 years. This is where the organization “became legendary,” says Dryden.

“The Rocket understood the responsibility they had to be the best player on the best team, in a city and province where hockey and the team mean more than anywhere else in the world. Béliveau assumed this responsibility, and then Guy. It made him a great leader. And this, even if, unlike his two predecessors, he never wore a “C” on his jersey.

This state of mind, again according to Ken Dryden, has undoubtedly contributed to the intimate relationship that the public has maintained with the Blond Demon over the past 50 years.

With his supporters, he was like with his teammates. “Never selfish, says Scotty Bowman. He got so many assists on goals from Steve Shutt…”

“He could do everything,” concludes the coach.

It earned him his place among the greats.

Hockey’s greatest. The biggest ones.


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