Las Vegas Sun

March 29, 2024

Columnist Ron Kantowski: Summerlin resident reunited with Cup

Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at [email protected] or (702) 259-4088.

As one who grew up near Chicago having memorized Bobby Hull's lifetime statistics, it pains me to say that pro hockey, at least the way they play it in the NHL, has more problems than you can shake a curved stick at.

Too many fights, not enough goals. Too much clutching and grabbing without the puck, not enough stick-handling and passing with the puck. Too many Todd Bertuzzis, not nearly enough Wayne Gretzkys.

Oh, and then there was that little matter about canceling last season, as if it were some lame situation comedy starring Alan Thicke (a big hockey fan, I might add).

But on Wednesday at a community center in Summerlin, the NHL showed it's still capable of putting its best skate forward. With the cooperation of the Hockey Hall of Fame, it has taken the most famous trophy in sports, the venerable Stanley Cup, on summer tour so old-timers who once skated with a championship team can spend a day with it.

It's a tradition that more contemporary players have unofficially enjoyed since 1979, when Montreal Canadiens star Guy Lafleur "stole" the Stanley Cup so he could show it off to family and friends, and have officially enjoyed since 1995, when NHL commissioner Gary Bettman decreed that every player, trainer, coach and management member from the championship team should spend at least a day with the trophy.

During the 1949-50 NHL season, Summerlin resident Max McNab was a lanky 25-year-old center for the Detroit Red Wings, who defeated the New York Rangers in overtime in Game 7 of the finals to win their fourth Stanley Cup. McNab recalled taking one or two sips of an unspecified beverage from the Cup in the winning dressing room.

"Then two burly guys came in and grabbed it and took it away," he said. "I never saw it again."

Until Wednesday.

It had been 55 years since McNab had earned the right to have his name engraved on the Cup alongside those of his more famous teammates, such as the great Gordie Howe, Ted Lindsay and Sid Abel, who together formed the prolific "Production Line," and goalie Terry Sawchuk, a rookie that season. But until Wednesday, when the Cup was put on display in Las Vegas in his honor, he had to take somebody else's word for it.

Not anymore. On Wednesday, McNab, now a youthful 81, was able to run his finger over the engraved silver letters that spell his name. And he wasn't the only one, as his many friends and family members who gathered for the occasion did the same. They posed for photos with the Cup, sought out the names of favorite players not named McNab and even rubbed the trophy like a genie's lamp, perhaps hoping to coax the ghost of Rocket Richard into making a surprise appearance.

I did a Cup check myself, looking for the names of the 1960-61 NHL-champion Blackhawks -- if for no other reason than to confirm that a team from Chicago had actually won the darn thing during my 48 years on this earth.

"Max was so excited when (the Hall of Fame ) phoned him," said June McNab, a former nurse who met her husband shortly after that championship season, as another member of the Mountain View Presbyterian church sidled up to say hello.

Unlike his father, who was more of a playmaker, Peter McNab, one of Max's two hockey-playing sons (David McNab is an assistant GM with the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim), was a big scorer during a 15-year NHL career which saw him light the red lamp 363 times. Peter McNab had two 40-goal seasons with the Bruins and was an NHL all-star. But his name is not engraved on the Stanley Cup.

"He reminded me of that several times today," said Peter McNab, now a TV analyst for the Colorado Avalanche, who still calls his father by his first name.

"This is fantastic for the league to do this. It's just a wonderful tradition, and for Max to see his name on the Cup for the first time after 55 years, to have his day in the sun, how special is that?"

Pretty darn special, said Phil Pritchard, a vice president at the Hockey Hall of Fame better known as the Curator of the Cup. Pritchard said in every city, burg and remote Canadian prairie town where the trophy has stopped, you can see the joy in the old-timers' eyes as they recall copping the Cup.

"It's so neat to see them get to relive it, and they get to relive it with family and friends," Pritchard said. "That's what makes it special."

Max McNab, who played three years in the NHL before going on to become a highly respected minor league coach and, later, general manager of the Washington Capitals and New Jersey Devils, also turned back the clock and told a few stories Wednesday, including one about Howe literally having his face rearranged during the first game of the 1950 playoffs.

The hockey legend crashed into the boards after being checked by Toronto captain Teeder Kennedy, suffering a lacerated eyeball, fractures to his nose and cheekbone and a life-threatening head injury which required multiple surgeries to relieve pressure on his brain. It was so touch-and-go whether he would make it through the night that Howe's parents were summoned from their home in Saskatoon.

"Some people said it was a dirty check," McNab said. "But I saw it happen and I knew it wasn't."

With that, McNab pulled out an old black-and-white photograph of the champion Red Wings. Look closely, he told me, noting that Howe appeared to be wearing a different sweater than his teammates. McNab said that was because when the photo was taken, Howe was in the hospital in critical condition. His image was added to the photo after the fact.

McNab noted that of the 20 players and coaches pictured, only nine are still living. He shook his head, but said nothing.

"I guess it's kind of bittersweet," Max McNab finally said, his emotional cup having briefly run over within the shadow of the one bearing Lord Stanley's name.com or 259-4088.

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