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    The Golden Jet
    The Golden Jet
    The Golden Jet
    Ebook312 pages1 hour

    The Golden Jet

    By Bobby Hull and Bob Verdi

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A must-have keepsake for Blackhawks fans of all ages, this souvenir provides the opportunity to celebrate the life of the greatest hockey player in Chicago's history. One of the most charismatic and electrifying athletes of his or any era, Bobby Hull thrilled fans with his unique combination of speed, skill, and grace and his electrifying career is highlighted in this biography where he traces his life from his days as a youngster learning to skate on the Bay of Quinte to his current role as a Blackhawks ambassador. Throughout the book, beautiful photos reflect on Hull's greatest moments, including amassing a team-record 604 career goals, collecting three Art Ross trophies as the league's leading scorer, earning Lord Stanley's Cup and a championship ring in 1961, and being inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame in 1983. Featuring hundreds of rare, full-color photos from his personal archive and accompanying text from legendary Chicago sports columnist and Blackhawks team historian Bob Verdi, The Golden Jet gives Hull's millions of fans a never-before-seen glimpse into the life of this hockey icon. Bringing the pictures to life is an exclusive commemorative DVD, which includes highlights, interviews, and behind-the-scenes clips from the Blackhawks' video library.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTriumph Books
    Release dateNov 1, 2010
    ISBN9781633190894
    The Golden Jet

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      Book preview

      The Golden Jet - Bobby Hull

      Anne.

      CHAPTER ONE

      Bobby’s Beginnings

      ROBERT MARVIN HULL WAS BORN ON JANUARY 3, 1939, in Point Anne, Ontario, the fifth of 11 children. His father, Robert Sr., was a laborer for the Canada Cement Company and an imposing figure with a lot of energy and strength. It was said that Robert Sr. could lift up either end of a car; he also was a pretty fair hockey player.

      Bobby Jr. didn’t waste any time becoming acquainted with the sport that was indigenous to his town and country. When he was just a tyke, Bobby found himself in a pair of skates, laced up by sisters Barbara and Laura. Bobby gravitated toward an outdoor rink belonging to his dad’s company, and the rest really is history.

      Bobby was assigned the usual chores as time went on. When I grew to maybe six or seven years old, I would get up at the crack of dawn, he recalled. I would take care of the fire in the kitchen and get the water in the porridge pot on so Mom could prepare breakfast for all of us. Then I would pretty much disappear. I would head for that rink and spend the whole weekend there, sometimes just by myself, shooting the puck in the early morning and making enough noise that I likely woke up the rest of the neighborhood. I only came home for meals and often went right back to the rink after supper, where my sisters or father would have to bring me back home to go to bed. That was my routine every weekend.

      Bobby built his strength by chopping down trees, walking four miles to and from school, or shoveling snow. He was muscular even as a youth, and with many hours under the tutelage of his father, Bobby learned skills such as stickhandling, passing, shooting, and protecting the puck while in his possession. As a parent, Bobby would jokingly tell his children that once in organized hockey he would play four games in four different leagues on a Saturday and collect at least 20 goals. It was obvious that he was a natural, particularly to Bob Wilson, a scout with the Blackhawks. Back in that era, it was commonplace for NHL teams to designate a special player as property and the Blackhawks gained the rights to Bobby, with family permission, at the age of 13.

      JANUARY 3, 1939

      ROBERT MARVIN HULL IS BORN IN POINT ANNE, ONTARIO.

      MY DAD IS THIRD FROM THE LEFT ON THE TOP ROW WITH THE CANADA CEMENT CLUB JUNIOR TEAM. It was a pretty good team, too, as you can see by the three pieces of hardware it won as Junior champions: the Leybourne, Burrows, and Plant No. 5 trophies. Dad was a left wing, and from everything I heard, not necessarily from him, he could really play. He could handle the puck and could splinter the boards around the rink with his shot, as I learned when he started teaching me. Dad was known as the Blond Flash when he played in Belleville, the town seven miles west of Point Anne.

      I AM NINE MONTHS OLD, trying to figure things out. It’s just starting to turn cold for my first full winter, and I look a bit restless. Maybe I’m aware that people around town are starting to play hockey again, and here I am in my diaper, unable to join them. But it won’t be for long.

      LIKE I SAID, IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG. This is me at age six on the Bay of Quinte, where I probably spent as much time as I did in bed. I am too young to be playing on a team yet, but I do recall that I was perfectly happy being out there alone or with my sisters, just skating hour after hour. I was one of the few kids who shoveled snow to clear space to play. Two clumps of snow at either end would become the goals. If I had a dollar for every time I shoveled snow off that old outdoor rink on the Bay of Quinte, I would have been a rich kid. But I was usually first to arrive, and was only too happy to serve.

      THIS IS DURING THE SUMMER, so we had to make our fun without ice. I am sitting on my father’s broad shoulders. Sisters Jackie, left, and Maxine, right, are posing. Dad was a hard worker, but he always made time for the family. This photo was taken at Frank and Ellie Howard’s farm near Roslyn, Ontario.

      FIRST GRADE IN PoINT ANNE. I am third from the left on the bottom row. I wasn’t much of a student, but my parents taught me life’s lessons, and I learned a lot on my own. I can speak some French, a few words of Russian, and some Slovak taught to me by my good friend and teammate, Stan Mikita, and I didn’t go to school for that. Our teacher, Dina Baxter, was a tough one. Doesn’t she look the part?

      AT AGE 11, I was a second-year bantam in the Belleville minor league. Our team was the Bruins. My dad is at the upper right, and I am lower left (circled). Mom came to the games but stayed far away from Dad, who thought he was the coach and was very much into it. Our coach was Dan Cowley, whose brother Bill was a great player for the Boston Bruins in the 1930s. Lloyd Red Doran, far left in the back row, played some pro hockey, while Orlaf Boyler Lloyd was our manager.

      THIS IS THE MEN’S SENIOR LEAGUE I PLAYED IN. I was 12 or 13, and most of the other guys were older, as you can see. Dad is in a suit on the left, I am second from the lower right. In those days, the slogan in Canada was, Take your boy to the rink, don’t send him. That still works for me.

      BY THE AGE OF 12 BOBBY WAS ALREADY COMPETING IN A MEN’S SENIOR LEAGUE.

      I’VE SCORED TWO GOALS IN THE MEN’S SENIOR LEAGUE, and I’m proud of it. Dad is cracking a smile. Dad was impatient with me on occasion, but always in a good way. He was a great mentor. He would skate with me all the time and taught me how to keep the puck on my stick as I skated. Keep your head up, he would say, and if your blade is angled properly, the puck will feel right on it. Sticks weren’t as expensive then. If you look closely, you’ll see the price of one right below Dad’s hands: one dollar. That won’t buy a stick now.

      170 MILES BETWEEN BOBBY’S HOMETOWN AND HESPELER, ONTARIO, WHERE HE MOVED TO PLAY HOCKEY AT THE AGE OF 14.

      I LOVED TO PLAY BASEBALL, TOO. On the far right, seated, I played with Robb’s Royals

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