1967 Maple Leafs Cup title remembered by man who called game on TV

Editor’s Note: The NHL Alumni Association will pay tribute to the 1967 Stanley Cup champion Toronto Maple Leafs on Feb. 1, as part of NHL All-Star Thursday at Scotiabank Arena in Toronto.

The NHLAA’s “Keith Magnuson Man of the Year” award will salute the seven living members of the Maple Leafs’ most recent championship. Expected to attend are Hall of Famers Dave Keon, Frank Mahovlich and Bob Pulford, and fellow forwards Brian Conacher, Ron Ellis, Pete Stemkowski and Mike Walton.

Iconic broadcaster, journalist and author Brian McFarlane was behind a “Hockey Night in Canada” microphone with play-by-play voice Bill Hewitt on May 2, 1967, to call Game 6 of the Cup Final between the Maple Leafs and Montreal Canadiens, telecast coast-to-coast in Canada.

McFarlane’s rich personal archive includes “Hockey Night in Canada” film footage that’s been seen rarely in the past half-century. With the preservation assistance of Toronto hockey historian and archivist Paul Patskou, McFarlane, 92, shares some of that film with this personal look back at Game 6.

TORONTO -- It’s rare to find a hockey fan today who can say he or she actually witnessed the Toronto Maple Leafs competing in the 1960s and rarer still to find fans who actually had tickets for the Stanley Cup-winning game at Maple Leaf Gardens in 1967.

The Gardens, arguably the most famous building in Canada in the ’60s, is now the Mattany Athletic Centre -- half arena, half grocery store. Shoppers today bag bananas and bagels where the Leafs once bagged goals and assists and, yes, the Stanley Cup.

Toronto Maple Leafs captain George Armstrong is interviewed on “Hockey Night in Canada” Ward Cornell following his team’s May 2, 1967 Stanley Cup championship win. Courtesy Brian McFarlane and Paul Patskou

Chances are fans who saw team captain George Armstrong sink the favored Canadiens with an empty-net goal in the final seconds of play in the ’67 playoffs, and minutes later hoist the Stanley Cup, are in their golden years today, most in their 70s, 80s or 90s. To my surprise, I’m now in that latter age bracket.

I witnessed Armstrong’s goal and described it on “Hockey Night in Canada” along with the celebration that followed. No Maple Leafs player has scored such a goal since.

Seconds later, I babbled on about the Toronto victory: “Armstrong and his teammates embracing, Army’s son, Brian, scrambling onto the ice and joining in, as did an uninvited total stranger wearing thick glasses, boldly shaking hands with the winners and squeezing into postgame photos around the Stanley Cup.”

I was a 36-year-old broadcaster in my second year in the Gardens gondola -- the broadcast booth -- working alongside Bill Hewitt to call the game on national television. Bill’s legendary dad, Foster Hewitt, was on radio nearby. My wife, Joan, was somewhere in the crowd.

Brian McFarlane and his wife, Joan, arrive for the 2022 Hockey Hall of Fame inductions in Toronto.

I assume there were a hundred or so children and teenagers at the game that night -- maybe more -- so chances of either my wife or myself living long enough to brag about being the oldest witness to a Leafs Stanley Cup celebration are rather slim. But we could be the oldest couple to be part of it.

The Gardens press box was located at the south end of the arena with a bandstand at the north end, above which was a huge portrait of Queen Elizabeth II. New Maple Leafs owner Harold Ballard would ban the live music and ordered workers to remove the Queen.

“She doesn’t make me any money,” he said.

So, the likeness of her Royal Highness, without so much as a final salute or a curtsy, was removed. My suspicion is that she was cruelly cremated in the Gardens incinerator. Even God couldn’t save the Queen.

Then came that awesome, unpredictable surprise in 1967 -- a Centennial-year Stanley Cup win over the mighty Canadiens.

Our final “Hockey Night in Canada” telecast of the season provided an unforgettable reward, and the poor vision that afflicts me today doesn’t blur the images of the thrilling final moments of that six-game series.

The Canadiens took to the Gardens ice for Game 6 trailing 3-2 in the series. A win would force Game 7 at the Forum, where Montreal seldom lost. The Habs were salivating over a chance to display the Stanley Cup at Expo 67 that summer, millions expected to attend the World’s Fair. Montrealers counted on the trophy being there.

The series had gone back and forth, the Maple Leafs losing the opener in Montreal, rebounding to shut out the Canadiens in Game 2, winning Game 3 back home in double-overtime then being crushed 6-2 in Game 4.

Maple Leafs fans and media members tumbled off the bandwagon, declaring coach Punch Imlach’s men a bunch of weary warriors stumbling toward the finish line.

Why not? Injured goalie Johnny Bower, 42, was through and Terry Sawchuk, 37, looked like he’d crawled away from a train wreck. But in Game 5 at the Forum, stung by his Game 4 critics, Sawchuk played near-perfect hockey. He allowed just one goal, a deflection, and skated off with a 4-1 victory.

The bandwagon was full once again, just as Imlach pulled a limping Bower aside before Game 6 at the Gardens

“Johnny, get dressed. You’re the backup tonight,” he told his goalie.

“But Punch, I can barely walk,” Bower replied. “I can’t play if Sawchuk gets hurt.”

“I know that. I won’t use you. I’ll have Al Smith half-dressed and waiting in the dressing room. But I want you on the bench. I want you to share in the glory if we should win the Stanley Cup.”

Imlach was also thinking of the upcoming expansion draft, and how it would rob his team of many of his favorite players. It was the end of an era for his Leafs, and he was determined it would end with memories that would last a lifetime.

He even wore a new green checked suit that night, one he’d purchased in Montreal after the humiliating Game 1 defeat. He’d told Tony the Tailor, a legendary Montreal haberdasher, “I’ll be wearing this suit on the night we win the Cup. You watch for it on TV.”

Tony had laughed at Imlach’s optimism.

The Canadiens’ chances of forcing Game 7 were splendid. Bower, nicknamed the China Wall, was done, his season over. Critics declared the Leafs kaput, game old codgers but shooters of last bolts.

Sawchuk, one of the oldest codgers, would have to be prepared to turn in another stellar performance in Game 6 on home ice.

He was. Canadiens fans were stunned when Sawchuk and friends, a team of ageless wonders (to that point the oldest team in playoff history), sent Les Glorieux reeling, dashing their Centennial dreams and denying them their third consecutive championship.

While Sawchuk reached back for his old-time magic, Ron Ellis and Jim Pappin scored for the Leafs. Dick Duff, the ex-Leaf, spoiled Sawchuk’s shutout bid.

With the Leafs leading 2-1, the game came down to the final minute of play. The Montreal net was empty, the face-off in the Leafs zone. Half a dozen Leafs, including Sawchuk, were well aware it was “last chance” for them. Many would not be back.

Neither would broadcaster Foster Hewitt, about to retire as famous as all but the most brilliant players.

And then came Armstrong’s goal. Defenseman Allan Stanley won the face-off against Canadiens captain Jean Beliveau, Red Kelly shoveling the loose puck to Bob Pulford. A pass to the rushing captain ended with Armstrong’s insurance goal scored with 47 seconds left on the clock, fired into the empty net from outside Montreal’s blue line.

Foster would never call another Stanley Cup final game. His actual swan song came in 1972 when, five years retired, he brought millions of Canadians the play-by-play of the memorable 1972 Summit Series against the Soviets, which culminated in Paul Henderson’s winning goal in the final seconds of Game 8:

“Henderson has scored for Canada!”

Not a bad way to hang up a microphone – to call a Stanley Cup winner in Toronto and follow up with Henderson’s clincher in Moscow.

The Leafs celebrated their victory at the home of team president Stafford Smythe. It was long and loud, and my wife and I crashed it.

Leafs management didn’t think to invite their broadcasters to the celebration, not even Foster Hewitt, a man who was more famous than the players.

So Joan and I and a CBC type named Wilf Hayden sat around our kitchen table until I said, “Let’s crash the party. We’ll go to Staff Smythe’s house. Anybody know where it is?”

Wilf did and we went there. Nobody greeted us. The front door was open and we walked right in. We sipped Champagne from the Stanley Cup. We saw Eddie Shack dancing his feet off, his face drenched in sweat, bubbles of it dripping off his nose.

Heads craned when big, blond Gary Smith, the third- or fourth-string goalie, strolled in with a Pamela Anderson-lookalike on his arm. It was crowded, it was lively and it was fun. After an hour or two, we went home.

As we left, I think we all knew it might be several years before the Leafs would celebrate another Stanley Cup victory. But 50 years? Or 100? Who knew?

Ah, yes. So many sweet memories of 1967.