BOB PADECKY
Ex-NHL player as tough as they come
Harper skated in era of no protection
Published: Thursday, July 16, 2009 at 3:00 a.m.
Last Modified: Thursday, July 16, 2009 at 10:50 p.m.
Maybe Terry Harper didn’t have any choice, once people learned this farm boy from Saskatchewan could do 100 chin-ups without stopping. When a farm boy can do 100 chin-ups without pause, oh sure, the kid still could end up playing the piano, but, more likely, he might be inclined to a more physical pursuit, like being strong enough and tough enough to take hockey pucks off his face for 20 years.
And yep, there they are, the evidence, those tiny little scars on Harper’s forehead, cheeks, chin. Harper could look into the mirror and say, “Thanks, National Hockey League, for letting me have a nose I can still breathe through.” Considering he played 20 years in the NHL as a defenseman without a mouth guard and face protection, most of the time spent without a helmet, he’ll accept those little railroad track creases across his face as benign souvenirs.
In fact, Harper just shrugged at the memories of all the pucks that skimmed across his face like a stone skipping against water. In town for Snoopy’s 34th Senior World Hockey Tournament, Harper said he was just doing his job as a defenseman, which back in the day meant his face, not to mention the rest of his body, was there to stop pucks, sticks, forearms, cheap shots and assorted muggings.
It was like standing in front of a bus every game, armed only with good intentions and those 100 chin-ups.
That determination created in Harper a minimum standard of toughness, a bar as it were that he could not dip below or, for that matter, a dip he could not tolerate in other athletes.
In the late ’80s, for example, Harper was talked into going to a major league baseball game. It was only the third MLB game of his life. It was in Oakland and the A’s were playing the Detroit Tigers. Cecil Fielder was the Tigers first baseman. Fielder was listed at 6-foot-3, 240 pounds. The height was accurate. The weight was not. He played at least at 300 pounds most of his career.
“Fielder hit the ground trying to make a play at first base,” said Harper, 69. “But when he tried to get up, he couldn’t. He was like a turtle on his back. Arms and legs flailing everywhere. I looked at that, thought to myself, that’s a professional athlete? I said, ‘I’m outta here. I’m going to the bar in the stadium club to have a drink.
“I never went back to see another baseball game until last Friday. But my son, Jeff, talked me into going to see the Giants. It was the night someone threw a no-hitter.”
I told Harper to call me the next time he plans to go see either the Giants or A’s. Just in case.
Harper may be 69, but his 6-foot-2 frame doesn’t look much different than when it had 197 pounds on it and was a four-time NHL All-Star and a member of five Stanley Cup teams. He likes to eat right, he said, and he likes to ride his bicycle around his home in Folsom near Sacramento.
“So how much do you weigh now?” I asked.
“I dunno,” Harper said. “I haven’t weighed myself since I retired from the NHL.”
Terry Harper retired in 1981.
“I know my body,” he said, “and I can tell when there’s a little blubber on it.”
Harper then lifted his shirt a bit, squeezed his almost indiscernible spare tire and shrugged again. Terry Harper does a lot of shrugging. For someone with his hockey résumé, especially at a place like Snoopy’s Ice Rink where so many players have skills but not his pedigree, Harper could big-time everyone. Instead, Harper is more like Snoopy’s Chamber of Commerce.
“Hey, ambassador!” said one guy as he walked through the door.
“There’s Terry!” said another.
I was surprised Harper didn’t greet everyone with a drink that had an umbrella in it. He is the most recognizable face at this tournament because he is an NHL legend who has been coming here since 1990 and is as approachable as a casino greeter.
That Harper plays hockey one day a week at a Roseville rink near Sacramento, as well as in tournaments throughout Northern California, keeps his name and his reputation out there.
Harper, after all, played with and against some of the greatest hockey players the game has ever known: Henri Richard, Jean Beliveau, Red Kelly, Bernie Geoffrion, Jacques Plante, Mark Messier and especially Gordie Howie, the best player Harper said he ever saw. Harper began making money as a player at 16, began skating itself at 3, maybe 4.
The game — which he admits will never truly take off in America because so many sports are marketed so well — is as natural to him as taking a breath. When Harper heard a while back that in a senior tournament a player had collapsed on the ice and died during a game, he thought of his last day on this planet and thought it would perfectly be fine if he suffered the same fate.
“I mean,” he said, “why not go that way and not go through the misery of assisted living? Why suffer through all those things (that prolong life)? I’d rather go that way than those alternatives.”
“Of course,” I suggested, “to make it ideal, you should score a goal just before you drop.”
“One goal?” Terry Harper feigned shock.
“One goal? Not me. I want a hat trick before I go out. Yes, that would be perfect. A hat trick.”
For more on North Bay sports go to Bob Padecky’s blog at padecky.blogs.pressdemocrat.com. You can reach Staff Columnist Bob Padecky at 521-5223 or bob.padecky@pressdemocrat.com.
All rights reserved. This copyrighted material may not be re-published without permission. Links are encouraged.
Comments are currently unavailable on this article