Bucyk hits 50-year checkpoint

The last half-century skipped by at a pretty good clip, John Bucyk will tell you, and from a hockey perspective, he has his plaque in the Hall of Fame and his name etched on the Stanley Cup twice (1970, '72) as the engraved, undeniable proof of the good times, the best times.

The Bruins owned the city in his heyday, and the stocky, granite-hipped Bucyk was always the quiet, hard-working, kind-hearted mayor who maintained a balance in the dressing room. A link then to the club's hard-luck days of the late '50s and early '60s, he delivered his points -- and his devastating hip checks -- with a coal miner's demeanor and discipline. When the good times finally arrived, he helped to manage the egos within, and likewise helped deliver a common touch to a city enthralled with, if not delirious over, what was perhaps Boston's most endearing team of the 20th century.

"We had a lot of bleak years from 1960 to 1967," the Chief recalled Saturday, reminiscing inside the Bruins Alumni suite on the ninth floor of the Garden, prior to the club's faceoff against the Islanders. "We never even made the playoffs. Then after Bobby [Orr] came, you could see the wheel turn a little bit, and Milt [Schmidt] made the trade, picking up Espo [Phil Esposito], [Ken] Hodge, and [Fred] Stanfield. You could see it turning a little more, and eventually, it did -- and then the fun came back."

A reminder of that fun and glory will come tonight when Bucyk, now 71, is feted for his 50 years of service to the Black-and-Gold. The first 10,000 people through the TD Banknorth Garden doors for "Hail to the Chief" night (be there no later than 6:45 p.m.) will receive miniatures of Bucyk, the humble icon, holding the Stanley Cup. Those old enough in the crowd, along with the assembled alumni on the ice, will recall that the full-sized, real-life Bucyk last did that on May 11, 1972, inside Madison Square Garden, after the Bruins polished off the Rangers, 3-0, in Game 6 of the finals.

"You could just see the winning attitude was there," recalled Bucyk, who spent nearly the first 20 years of his "retirement" as Bob Wilson's right-hand/color man in the radio booth. "We won a lot of games. We would do anything. We'd battle on the ice, off the ice . . . whatever it took to do to win, we did."

Tonight actually will be Bucyk's third "night" on Causeway Street since officially joining the franchise on June 10, 1957, the day general manager Lynn Patrick acquired him from Detroit in the deal that sent legendary goalie Terry Sawchuk back to the Red Wings. By his 11th season in Boston, Bucyk's back was so debilitated by a degenerative disk that on March 28, 1968, the club held John Bucyk Night, fully expecting the 32-year-old left winger would not be back the following September.

Ownership rolled a sparkling 1968 Mustang convertible on to the ice, and Bucyk's teammates chipped in and bought a boat for ol' No. 9. The Rangers sent along a set of golf clubs, and the Black Hawks a rifle. The Chief graciously accepted the mother lode of goodwill and appreciation, and then went on to play 713 games, score 727 points, and win the two Cups over the next 10 seasons.

"Everyone thought my career was over," said Bucyk, emitting a giggle to underscore that "everyone" included himself. "But that summer, I went to see some specialists in Toronto -- the Maple Leafs doctors, actually -- and they made a brace for me that I played with for the next 10 years.

"What people often don't think about, or forget, is that from that time on, I got the record for most consecutive games as a Bruin -- 418. And they thought I was finished!"

The second "night" came on March 13, 1980, when Bucyk's No. 9 was hoisted to the Garden rafters. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame on Sept. 15, 1981, and tonight he completes his Causeway hat trick of ceremonies.

"It's starting to hit me now," said Bucyk, who for the last 8-10 years has concentrated on helping the club on the road, ostensibly as traveling secretary, and assisting current players and alumni in virtually every capacity imaginable. "Honestly, I am so proud of the fact that I've been able to stay here for 50 years. What the Jacobs family is doing for me is just terrific. I mean, what else can you ask for?

"I didn't think there was anything else anyone could do for me. They retired my number. I got into the Hall of Fame. This is just unbelievable."

The secret to Bucyk's success, and his longevity?

"He's a good Uke!" offered Vic Stasiuk, the Chief's former linemate, reached yesterday by telephone at his home in Lethbridge, Alberta. "He's got that good Ukrainian bloodline in him, and by that I mean the willingness to be a team player, be part of a team in his objective. Whatever you do, you do it together, work together. I do hold faith in the hard-working player, and that was John Bucyk."

Stasiuk, 77, was part of the lovable "Uke Line," with Bucyk and Bronco Horvath, that Bruins fans began to cheer for the first time in the fall of 1957. Stasiuk, who broke into the NHL with Chicago and then moved to Detroit, had been in Boston for a year when Patrick made the swap for Bucyk. Horvath, the center, was acquired in the intraleague draft on June 5, 1957, from the Canadiens, and five days later, Bucyk was added from the Red Wings.

"Vic would dig it out of the corners, and I'd go to the net -- because I hated the corners," said Horvath, 76, reached by phone at his home in South Yarmouth. "That's the way it worked when we were all together in Edmonton, before we got to the NHL. We were already known as the 'Uke Line' there.

"I'd tell Vic and Bucyk, 'Get the puck and look in front for my socks.' That's how it worked. But I wouldn't stay in there too long, because if you did, someone like Doug Harvey would cross-check you in the head or try to punch your lights out."

Horvath will be in the Garden tonight, along with more than a dozen Bruins alums, reminiscing with their former teammate and, no doubt, heaping on the praise, and delivering some friendly shots to the ribs. Bucyk, said Horvath, was built for digging pucks out of the left wing corner, and he had a penchant for delivering "vicious and clean" checks in open ice.

Many of those bodyslams came via Bucyk's patented hip checks, often delivered in collaboration with one of his linemates. Be it with Stasiuk or Horvath, or later with the likes of Johnny "Pie" McKenzie, Bucyk would have one of his partners chase an opposing forward behind the net from one side, and then Bucyk would come at an angle from the opposite side and drop the unsuspecting skater with a quick twitch of his spring-loaded hips.

"He didn't fight much, Chief," recalled Horvath. "There wasn't anything dirty about the way he played, and I think that's why guys didn't want to fight him.

"When we were together in Edmonton, I remember a guy went at him, and Bucyk dropped him with one punch -- he went down like a ton of bricks. The guy was flat, and I stood over him and said, 'Yeah, you want more? I'll give you more!' Heck, the guy started to stir and get up, and I jumped right into Chief's arms."

When the good times really began to roll in the late '60s, Stasiuk and Horvath were long gone, and Bucyk, by then the respected elder statesman, seamlessly and effectively interfaced with the likes of Orr and Esposito. He became not a father figure, but a respected uncle, guiding them on ice and everywhere else.

"When Bobby came to his first camp, they asked if I would look after him," recalled Bucyk. "Because, you know, he was just a kid. Sure, I said, no problem. I think it took only two weeks of training camp, and I was the kid and he was the guy in charge of the room, you know? He was unbelievable."

Bucyk's other trademark on the ice was his innate ability to score goals while pressed up tight against the crease. He had an expert, uncanny knack for gathering rebounds at the end of his blade and snapping them straight up over the goalie, roof shots that sometimes appeared as if they would rocket out the top of the net. At the end of every practice, without fail, Bucyk would lug a bucket of pucks to the front of the crease and snap forehanders and backhanders under the crossbar.

"We used to tell our defensemen, keep the puck down low," he said. "That way, the goalie couldn't hold it. I'd hate to tell you how many goals I scored right in front of the net. Right in tight.

"I had four penalty shots in my career, and scored on three, and I bet on every one of them I was right in the crease and snapped it high. I did it on Sawchuk. I did it on Johnny Bower. Glenn Hall stopped me, but he was the only one."

Fifty years into his good run, there appears to be no stopping Bucyk. His jet-black hair, which once had a half-dollar-sized dollop of white in the back, has faded completely to silver. But he remains in outstanding health, and continues to play regularly in alumni games, without need of the back brace. "I'd wear it, but it doesn't fit," he offered, with a portly laugh.

A half-century gone by, he'll take another bow at center ice tonight, and plans to continue skating his lane.

"I just hope I can last a couple of more," said the Chief. "I'm having a lot of fun this year. I think our team is improving, and I think we are going to be on the upswing a little bit. [GM Peter] Chiarelli has been terrific . . . the coaches, the players, all great to me. I enjoy what I'm doing.

"My goal became to make it to 50 years. Now I'd like to work until we win another Stanley Cup. I said the same thing when I played. I loved to play, and hated if I had to sit out. I mean, if I retire, what am I going to do? This is the thing I love."

A little of that love rebounds his way tonight. No doubt he'll be ready.