Hockey In A Slapstick Style

Hockey has had its share of implausible characters, but for unlimited lunacy on ice nobody has matched Montreal-born Jean Baptiste Pusie. A husky French-Canadian defenseman with an immense ego and a low-comedy accent, Pusie made his debut in the autumn of 1930 at the Montreal Canadiens' training camp.

Coach Cecil Hart was startled when the 20-year-old rookie entered his office, introduced himself, vigorously pumped his hand and declared: "Meestair 'art. Pewsee weel be zee greatess. Heet's 'ockey playairs like me dat weel make dis game pop-u-lair."

Hart admired the youngster's off-ice exuberance but he detected two serious flaws in his playing technique. Pusie's heavy shot worked only when he had ample time to lower his head for a protracted wind-up. And his stick-handling was based on the notion that opponents never were closer than 10 feet to him. When Jean Baptiste skated, his eyes remained glued to the puck.

"Ship him to London for seasoning," Hart suggested to Manager Leo Dandurand, "and see what happens."

Pusie was depressed when he joined the London, Ontario, Tecumsehs of the International League but confident that he would yet be an NHL star.

In his first home game Pusie was fed a lead pass and broke into the clear. This was a perfect opportunity for Jean Baptiste to fire his unusual shot. He wound up in the classic style and hit the puck so hard it yanked the goalie's mitt from his hand. Both puck and glove sailed into the net.

Before the goalie could move, Pusie dived into the cage, retrieved the glove and presented it to the goaltender with a low bow. He held his opponent's bare hand up to the crowd, carefully counted the fingers and said: "Dey are all dere. You are luck-y." He replaced the glove and condescendingly patted the goalie on the back.

"Pusie then leisurely strutted to center ice, a one-man parade, and the audience went wild," wrote the late Bill Roche, assistant sports editor of the London Advertiser.

The word got around that Pusie played an amusing kind of hockey, and London's arena was jammed for the next game. The crowd had come to see Jean Baptiste, and when the home team was awarded a penalty shot, fans demanded that Pusie take it. "I had no choice," said Coach Clem Loughlin. "He already owned the joint."

Only Pusie and the opposing goaltender remained on the ice. For a few seconds Jean Baptiste remained sphinxlike in the center of the rink, glaring wide-eyed at his enemy. Then he let out a shriek and dashed frantically toward the net. When he reached the penalty shot line, he drew back his stick. The goalie tensed for the shot but Pusie never fired. He stopped short, spraying the goaltender with ice shavings. Then, placing stick and gloves on the ice, he skated to the goalie, courteously shook hands and returned to center ice.