Sanderson says father's encouragement helped him become Cup champion

Legendary hockey reporter Stan Fischler writes a weekly scrapbook for NHL.com. Fischler, known as "The Hockey Maven," shares his humor and insight with readers each Wednesday.
This week Fichler presents Voices From The Past, spotlighting Derek Sanderson who had 452 points (202 goals, 250 assists) in 598 NHL games with the Boston Bruins, New York Rangers, St. Louis Blues, Vancouver Canucks and Pittsburgh Penguins from 1965-78. The two time Stanley Cup champion with the Bruins (1970, 1972) revealed in interviews with Fischler what an important role his father played in helping him reach the NHL.
These interviews took place at Sanderson's apartment in Boston in 1970. The transcripts were used in Sanderson's autobiography, "I've Got to be Me."

How did your father help you learn to skate?
"He got me skates when I was very young and kept teaching me. If my dad, Harold Sanderson, wanted anything out of life it was for me to become a big-league hockey player. We were a lower-middle class family in Niagara Falls, Ontario but dad was able to build a makeshift rink by our house. I was only three years old when he started me off by buying me a pair of skates. Right in our living room, he'd lace them up and have me walk around on the carpet so I got the feel of the skates and developed balance. Luckily, my mother didn't object; she was smart enough to realize that if my father was so gung-ho about hockey, she would let him help me."

In what ways did he encourage you?
"He talked to me a lot. Even though he had a decent job as a machinist, he pushed me away from that kind of work. I remember him saying, 'I don't want you to end up like me. I want you to have a shot at everything and then decide for yourself. Whatever you do, go out and do it. Be a surgeon, a lawyer, a dentist or writer.' I knew what was coming next: 'But preferably, be a hockey player!' Then, when the first snowfall came, he built the rink and since he was a real craftsman he'd work on it for two or three days until the rink was perfect. He'd let other kids in the neighborhood skate on it as well; except they had to shovel the snow off otherwise, go away!"
Was your dad also your hockey coach?
"In a way he was. When spring would come, he'd build a hockey shooting contraption for me in our driveway. Then, he'd say -- never demanding, always encouraging -- 'Why don't you go out there and shoot 100 pucks?' That was his whole theory; never compel me to do anything. It was a friend to friend kind of relationship. I respected my father so much that I'd never shoot 99 pucks, always 100. So when I came to him and said, 'I just shot 100 pucks,' he'd just say, 'That's good.' In a sense he was masterminding me, but I loved it."

How did he help you develop your toughness as a hockey player?
"It started with a street hockey game when one of the bigger guys gave me the beating of my young life. He said, 'Next time make sure you beat him!' After that, I had my first hockey fight and got another licking. My father said, 'If you let a guy do that to you again, I won't talk to you.' So the next game I gave the guy a licking. My dad made a point of getting me accustomed to pain. When I was eight, a puck hit me right in the head and I was bleeding all over the place. My father gave me a once-over look and snapped, 'You're all right. Get back out there. The blood will dry. Shake it off.' He wound up later taking me to the hospital and I got three stitches. And when we got home he put them in a plastic box. All together dad saved every one of my first 100 stitches and pretty soon I became proud of them."
What else did he teach you?
"It wasn't just toughness; dad was a bug on scientific hockey. By the time I was seven he had me turning both ways on my skates, to the left and to the right. He would watch while I skated 50 times around the rink, stopping on both feet, then on one foot, then on one foot on both sides. He also had me watch his favorite player, Ted Kennedy of the Maple Leafs. Kennedy didn't skate that well but he was inspiring and worked for everything he got. Kennedy was especially good at face-offs so dad had me focus on Kennedy's technique on the draws and I got good at it"
How good?
"There's no question in my mind, that with all my dad taught me and my focusing on Ted Kennedy, that I became the best face-off man in the NHL. And I know that it didn't come by accident. It was my father teaching me to study Kennedy's special moves. I copied the way Ted positioned his feet, his hands and his weight, and I carefully studied his timing. By the time I got to the Bruins, I had reached a point where I expected to win -- without too much trouble -- about 90 percent of the face-offs. And if you ask me the other face-off secret of mine, it was concentration."
What do you remember about your first organized league game?
"I was eight, in a Peewee Division for kids between eight and 10 and we played in Niagara Falls Memorial Arena, starting at six in the morning. Mr. Gould, the father of one of my teammates, said he'd give me a dollar for every goal I scored and fifty cents for an assist. I wound up with nine assists for the year so he didn't have too much to worry about. Still, because I never scored, I felt like a real bum hockey player. But that didn't seem to bother my dad. 'Don't worry, kid,' he'd say, 'you're a great playmaker. The coach just doesn't appreciate you.'"
When did the goals start to come?
"The next year we played a 20-game schedule. I got nine goals and 15 assists and we won the championship. The year after that it was 10 goals and 15 assists and I was making a few bucks from Mr. Gould. The following year I scored 44 goals and about 60 assists. Finally, my dad convinced me to call off the bet. 'You're too big for that. You don't need the money now.' By the way, I didn't like my father's thinking on that subject one bit."

How did you decide on a career in professional hockey?
"My dad had a talk with me about my eventually becoming a hockey pro. He said, 'It can offer you the world. You meet fine and important people, you learn how to handle people. You make good business contacts. You learn how to meet kids and be nice to them.' With that kind of information and encouragement in hand, I began thinking about the 'bright lights and the glory' that would come with winning and the other neat prospects. The bottom line was that my final decision wasn't all that tough to make. I said, 'Hockey is for me!'"