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Fond Memories of the Madhouse on Madison |
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Follow Paul on Twitter: @paustewart22
During my hockey playing, officiating and administrative careers, I could very much relate to the Willie Nelson classic "On the Road Again" and Hank Snow's "I've Been Everywhere." Name the locale and, if there was a hockey team that played in that place, chances are that I set foot (or skates) there at one time or another.
In my playing days alone, this native Boston boy and University of Pennsylvania graduate called "home" to everywhere from Quebec City (NHL) to Edmonton (very briefly, WHA), from Cincy (WHA) to Philly (AHL) and from Binghamton (NAHL and AHL) to Birmingham (CHL). I had a tryout with the New York Rangers, reluctantly turned down contract offers from the Minnesota North Stars and Buffalo Sabres and later wound up playing for Vince McMahon's Cape Cod Buccaneers (ACHL).
As a ref, I worked all across North America, in both Canada and the U.S., working junior hockey games and the American Hockey League before my full-time callup to the NHL came in 1987. I worked two Canada Cups and 1,010 NHL games. After my retirement from active officiating, I've been an officiating supervisor assigned to the AHL, a longtime collegiate officiating director, and an officiating and league discipline consultant in the KHL. I've also trained officials in rinks as far away as Finland and Slovakia (among other places) and as close to home as Rodman Arena in Walpole.
As I said, name the place and I've got a story from there, whether it is Regina or Russia. When I was a WHL/NHL player and NHL referee, I loved seeing what each city had to offer. I enjoyed the quirks of each rink. In short, the hockey life was perfect for me.
I've always had a particularly deep affinity for the NHL's "Original Six" cities. In the remaining weeks of the offseason, I will relay some of my fondest memories from each city. Let's start with Chicago and the old Chicago Stadium.
As many of you know, as far as NHL cities go, my deepest family ties run through Boston and Chicago. My grandfather, in addition to being a longtime NHL referee who worked in four Stanley Cup Finals and four NHL All-Star Games, coached the 1937-38 Chicago Black Hawks to the Stanley Cup championship. Bill Stewart Sr. was the first American coach to win the Cup.
Every time I set foot in the old Chicago Stadium, which opened in 1929 and lasted until 1994, I heard the echoes of my grandfather's NHL hockey career as a referee and a coach. I loved the many things that made the building unique, from the 185-foot rink length (15 feet shorter than NHL standards) to its infamous overhang and walking up and down the 19 steps that led from the locker rooms in the basement to the playing surface. The first eight steps had no railing, but I can honestly say that I never took a tumble down the stairs. Others weren't so lucky.
Chicago Stadium exuded "Old-Time Hockey" and I loved it! The arena predated the invention and introduction of the Zamboni, so there was no Zamboni pit. After each resurfacing, the machine had to be driven through the foyer to await its next duty at a parking spot set up at concourse level near the men's bathroom. If that didn't reek of, um "glamour", I don't know what did.
Then there was the renowned arena organ; a 3,663-pipe Barton organ billed as the world's largest theater organ console with a half-dozen keyboards and over 800 stops. I was not playing or reffing there when the late virtuoso Al Melgard was at the helm (from the 1930s to late 1970s), but I thought of him every time the officials were serenaded with "Three Blind Mice" every time we stepped out on the ice.
The infamous goal horn? It was installed by Bill Wirtz in 1973, and it was absolutely deafening. The only thing louder at the "Madhouse on Madison" was the Chicago fans. Chicago Stadium was the very definition of cacophony of sound. I lack the words to fully describe the adrenaline rush I felt whenever I stepped onto the ice, but the atmosphere was nothing short of electric.
In terms of game night memories, one that stands out in particular is the night that tough guys and frequent opponents Stu Grimson (Chicago) and Basil McRae (Tampa Bay) dropped the gloves. McRae lost his balance and broke his leg. It took a moment for what happened to register, as Grimson went to throw another punch and then realized McRae was in a bad way.
Instantly, Grimson transformed from "the Grim Reaper" locked in combat mode into a concerned colleague. He motioned for the trainers to come out and then respectfully backed away as McRae was placed on a stretcher and taken off the ice. Having performed the same role as Grimson and McRae during my playing days, I fully appreciated what was unfolding.
Another memory of Chicago that I can't forget was the night that my boss, NHL officiating director Bryan Lewis fired me behind the rhododendrons. I will save the specifics for another time. The story ended well, though. Bill Wirtz stepped in on my behalf and saved my job.
Bill Wirtz went way back with my grandfather, and was always kind to me in my dealings with him. In times of trouble, you learn who is really in your corner and who just pays lip service.
The Wirtz family is A-OK in my book, and Chicago will always be a special place to me.
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Paul Stewart holds the distinction of being the first U.S.-born citizen to make it to the NHL as both a player and referee. On March 15, 2003, he became the first American-born referee to officiate in 1,000 NHL games. After his retirement, he began a long career as a collegiate hockey officiating director, officiating trainer and supervisor, and an officiating and supplemental discipline consultant to the KHL.
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