Recognizing the greatness that was
People say kids these days haven’t witnessed greatness, and as a result, don’t know how to appreciate it. We can’t tap our steering wheels to a classic hit by The Beatles exclaiming, “Now this is music,” – a subtle hint to our obvious generational pride. We can’t watch highlights of the infamous 1987 Summit Series match-up of Canada versus Russia, featuring a bench clearing brawl and a blackout, and recount the memory of witnessing it live, understanding the significance of what that game represented. We can’t appreciate what it meant for a rookie on the Toronto Maple Leafs’ blue line to knock Bobby Orr – a Boston Bruins superhero – unconscious with an open-ice body check in the 1969 playoffs.
We can’t truly, in every essence of the word, appreciate the greatness that was Pat Quinn.
I, for one, can’t argue. A mere five-years old when the Leafs hired “The Big Irishman” as Head Coach, I couldn’t have possibly known, or understood, the feat of 35-consecutive victories as Head Coach with the Philadelphia Flyers that led to the 1980 Stanley Cup Finals, with the Flyers ultimately upsetting the New York Islanders in six games, or the vision and hockey sense it took for Quinn to build as General Manager, and lead as Head Coach, the Vancouver Canucks to the 1994 Stanley Cup Finals with the likes of Trevor Linden and Pavel Bure, only to fall in a heartbreaking Game Seven to the first-overall New York Rangers.
…embodying the very passion it takes to win.
In all honesty, when my beloved Leafs missed the playoffs for the first time that I could actually recall in 2005-06, as a 12-year-old, I was calling for Quinn to be chased out of town. I was simply too young to understand that, at the time of his termination, the former-Leafs defenseman was the winningest active coach in the NHL, and fourth on the all-time list.
We can’t truly, in every essence of the word, appreciate the greatness that was Pat Quinn.
I didn’t recognize that the Hamilton native had led the Leafs to their first division title in 37 years, and their first ever 100-point season. Quinn, of course, surpassed that feat with 103-points, a Maple Leafs record that still hasn’t been topped. Add it to the list of things I never understood.
I didn’t understand what it took to coach a team – more specifically, the Leafs – to the Conference Finals in your first season as head coach, and then return to that very spot three years later in 2002, only to be eliminated by the Carolina Hurricanes.
As a kid, the close up of the great Pat Quinn chomping away on his gum was the best thing about him. On Nov. 23, when it was announced that Quinn had died at the age of 71 years old, those close-ups were the first thing that came to mind.
Now 21-years old, I knew Quinn had been something to recognize, something great – only the greats stand behind the bench fearlessly with two black eyes after getting hit with the puck twice in the same week, a sight I’m glad to remember. It took this article, however, to completely recognize and acknowledge that it was Quinn who brought my all-time favourite player – Gary Roberts – to the Leafs, in addition to knowing just how much I’d love to have a coach on the Leafs bench now who would start banging on the glass holding a stick, embodying the very passion it takes to win.
I wish I would have understood, then, how much that Olympic gold in 2002 – the first for Team Canada in 50 years – actually meant, recognizing that it was Pat Quinn who was pulling the strings all while chomping away at his gum behind the bench in Salt Lake City.
I wish while I was jumping around my living room after Jordan Eberle had scored the game tying goal with 5.4 seconds remaining in the 2009 World Junior Championship semi-finals against Russia, that it was Head Coach Quinn who instilled in that eventual gold-medal winning team what it took to come out on top.
With all those memories, I can tell you where I was, what I was doing, and who I was with. I can tell you that John Tavares put the puck on net for Eberle to capitalize, and that Martin Brodeur jumping higher than the crossbar after winning Olympic gold still makes me smile.
Yet, it took writing this to recognize Pat Quinn’s significant impact in all of those things. It took writing this to recognize that I had witnessed greatness.