He will always be remembered, for a certain vintage at least, for the hit. In many ways, it reflected who Pat Quinn was, as both a player and a man. He was a towering presence, on and off the ice.
Programming Alert: Tune into Sportsnet Monday Nov. 24 at 11 p.m. EST for a special Pat Quinn tribute: The Mighty Quinn
The hit, of course, was the incredible collision with Boston Bruins legend Bobby Orr in the 1969 Stanley Cup playoffs. Quinn, a hulking defenceman with the Toronto Maple Leafs, caught Orr along the boards with his head down. Some said it was an elbow, others said it was a clean hit. Bottom line is Quinn laid out Orr, the greatest player in the game back then. It takes some jam to do that.
But Quinn never lacked jam and was always impactful.
There was much more to Quinn than just the towering presence, of course. Yes, he could be intimidating, but also charming. His size got your attention when he entered a room, but then Pat took it over with his insights and intelligence, his humour and humility.
Quinn was a fearless journeyman as a player, but he was brilliant as a coach. Okay, so he never won a Stanley Cup, but he twice took teams to the final, in 1994 with the Vancouver Canucks and 1980 with the Philadelphia Flyers, a team that had a 35 game unbeaten streak along the way. He even revived the Maple Leafs, twice taking them to the conference finals and he twice won coach of the year awards.
Then there was the Olympic gold in 2002, Canada’s first in 50 years. It’s easy to say it was a team of stars that won in those Winter Games, but talk to those around that team and they will tell you it was Quinn who helped pull that group together after a sluggish start in Salt Lake City.
At various times along the way, Quinn was accused of not being able to relate to younger players. But before he stopped coaching he led Canada to victory at both the world under-18 and world junior championships. That is a pretty complete resume.
As a man, Quinn could intimidate with his size and his stare could weaken knees. He had a gruff exterior when he wanted it, but he was a tremendous guy at heart. It was just that some times people couldn’t see the real him through that exterior.
Pat loved to talk hockey, to tell stories, to analyze and theorize about the game. It’s funny, he often said he didn’t look forward to his daily press conferences with the media, but he never failed to inform and often entertain when he did them. That didn’t mean he always suffered the reporters he didn’t like very well, but he did what he had to and did it well.
Pat was the kind of guy who when he spoke, you could listen to him talk all day and not just about hockey. He didn’t command respect, he earned it.
He could be engaging, whether it was with a player, a reporter or a fan. I can remember sitting in the lobby of a Detroit hotel during the Winter Classic last year and Pat was talking hockey with my then 14-year-old son. It was a genuine conversation, Pat as interested in what my son had to say, as my son was listening to Pat.
As a coach, his players didn’t always love him, but they respected him. He was tough, but fair. He was a friend who always protected them.
For many, he will be remembered for that hit, but there was so much more to remember and admire about Pat Quinn.
