One of the fun aspects of looking back on the history of hockey are the photographs that captured the special moments.
I came across the above photo of Wally Stanowski, Skip Stanowski and Charlie Rayner. At the time, Stanowski and Rayner were members of the New York Rangers. What makes the photo unique, is the fact young Skip Stalnowski is the focus.
With a copy of the photo sitting on the table, I sat down with Skip Stanowski to discuss what was happening in the photo and his memories of living in New York.
But first, here is the interesting story of how his dad became a Ranger. The text is from an interview I conducted with Wally.
"This photo was taken in New York around 1950," Skip said as we began our talk. "I lived in New York with my dad. This is my dad at the practice facility. He is holding me up while I'm trying to score a goal on Chuck Rayner."
The picture was taken at the old Madison Square Garden.
"The practice facility was above the Garden," Skip explained. "Ice was at a premium because the Garden was used 365 days-a-year. It was used for boxing, the circus, wrestling, basketball, you name it. So, this was the only location the Rangers had to practice. When the Rangers weren't using the ice, it was used for public skating."
Skip pointed out several features that made the practice rink unique.
"The dimensions weren't the same as an NHL rink. There was no seating and the windows gave it a distinctive look," Skip stated while holding the photo.
"I was in grade one or two at that time. In those days, the players all lived in the city. Now, they live on Long Island or some other area. Most of the Rangers lived in the Knickerbocker Hotel as it was close by. The season was short, so they lived there for six months. The short walking distance made it easy for me to go to practices.
"We had one-bedroom and a hot plate. The best thing about the Knickerbocker Hotel was that they knew I was the kid of a hockey player, so I had signing privileges in the tuck shop on the ground floor. I could bring my buddies from school and get some candy, and I'd sign it to the room."
Every chance he had, Skip would find his way over to Madison Square Garden.
"I was over at the practice facility a fare bit. I was in the dressing room and one of the nice things was spending time with the Rangers' trainer, Frank Paice. He became a good friend with our family. I went to Cornell University, and we played in a tournament at the old Garden, and Frank came to see me play.
"The players were family, and they treated everyone like family," Skip said of the close relationships within the team. "Chuck Rayner was a good friend to my dad. He and "Sugar" Jim Henry, another NHL goalie, had a fishing lodge, and we all went fishing together. New York was Dad's favourite place to play. He had better accomplishments in Toronto, but loved New York most of all.
What seemed like an extraordinary event to most - skating on the ice with Dad and one of his teammates after practice - didn't apply to the likes of Skip Stanowski. I asked Skip what it felt like to participate in that experience.
"I just thought it was a normal thing, he replied. "The players weren't revered as superstars like they are now. They made somewhat semi-normal salaries. The players loved it when the kids came out on the ice. When my dad and the rest of the guys, like Sid Smith, played for the Oldtimers, I was in the dressing room with them. I was older, and instead of drinking a Seven-Up, I'd have a beer with them."
But the most important, and anticipated, question I had for Skip relating to the photo was whether or not he scored on Chuck Rayner? It seemed like a daunting task considering he would have to hold back Wally and get his backhander past a future Hall of Fame goalie.
Skip's answer was short and to the point, but came with a smile on his face, and the knowledge the photo was one to remember.
"No, no, you can see Dad was holding me up."
Decked out in a comfortable blue plaid shirt and with a stream of smoke billowing from the bowl of his pipe, Stanowski sat back in his chair during one of my visits and told me about his trade to the New York Rangers in June of 1948.
"That year they (Toronto) didn't play me and I thought I've got to go to a team where I can play."
To accomplish this, Stanowski knew he would have to be proactive in getting the ball rolling.
"I told a Toronto reporter of my intention to quit hockey and go into business on my own. He was the only one I told. My wife didn't even know."
Like a hunter who sets a trap, Stanowski took cover and waited for his trap to work.
"I knew the reporter would take that information up to Smythe. He was a tattletale and he would get a favour from Smythe."
As the story goes, the reporter did go to Smythe with the information and shortly thereafter, Stanowski was traded to the New York Rangers. This transaction only occurred after Stanowski talked with Frank Boucher, who ran the Rangers.
"I understand you are going to quit," Boucher said to Stanowski.
"I have no intention of quitting," Stanowski told his future employer.
Secure in the knowledge he had a commitment from Stanowski, the Rangers manager made the deal with Smythe.
Aware that he could lose one of his assets without getting a return, Smythe took the bait planted by Stanowski. He wasn't going to call Stanowski's bluff.
"This photo was taken in New York around 1950," Skip said as we began our talk. "I lived in New York with my dad. This is my dad at the practice facility. He is holding me up while I'm trying to score a goal on Chuck Rayner."
The picture was taken at the old Madison Square Garden.
"The practice facility was above the Garden," Skip explained. "Ice was at a premium because the Garden was used 365 days-a-year. It was used for boxing, the circus, wrestling, basketball, you name it. So, this was the only location the Rangers had to practice. When the Rangers weren't using the ice, it was used for public skating."
Skip pointed out several features that made the practice rink unique.
"The dimensions weren't the same as an NHL rink. There was no seating and the windows gave it a distinctive look," Skip stated while holding the photo.
"I was in grade one or two at that time. In those days, the players all lived in the city. Now, they live on Long Island or some other area. Most of the Rangers lived in the Knickerbocker Hotel as it was close by. The season was short, so they lived there for six months. The short walking distance made it easy for me to go to practices.
"We had one-bedroom and a hot plate. The best thing about the Knickerbocker Hotel was that they knew I was the kid of a hockey player, so I had signing privileges in the tuck shop on the ground floor. I could bring my buddies from school and get some candy, and I'd sign it to the room."
Every chance he had, Skip would find his way over to Madison Square Garden.
"I was over at the practice facility a fare bit. I was in the dressing room and one of the nice things was spending time with the Rangers' trainer, Frank Paice. He became a good friend with our family. I went to Cornell University, and we played in a tournament at the old Garden, and Frank came to see me play.
"The players were family, and they treated everyone like family," Skip said of the close relationships within the team. "Chuck Rayner was a good friend to my dad. He and "Sugar" Jim Henry, another NHL goalie, had a fishing lodge, and we all went fishing together. New York was Dad's favourite place to play. He had better accomplishments in Toronto, but loved New York most of all.
What seemed like an extraordinary event to most - skating on the ice with Dad and one of his teammates after practice - didn't apply to the likes of Skip Stanowski. I asked Skip what it felt like to participate in that experience.
"I just thought it was a normal thing, he replied. "The players weren't revered as superstars like they are now. They made somewhat semi-normal salaries. The players loved it when the kids came out on the ice. When my dad and the rest of the guys, like Sid Smith, played for the Oldtimers, I was in the dressing room with them. I was older, and instead of drinking a Seven-Up, I'd have a beer with them."
But the most important, and anticipated, question I had for Skip relating to the photo was whether or not he scored on Chuck Rayner? It seemed like a daunting task considering he would have to hold back Wally and get his backhander past a future Hall of Fame goalie.
Skip's answer was short and to the point, but came with a smile on his face, and the knowledge the photo was one to remember.
"No, no, you can see Dad was holding me up."
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