A different kind of save
How a former NHL goaltender made my day
REGINA — Glenn (Chico) Resch, who stopped 14,403 pucks during 14 seasons as an NHL goaltender, deserves credit for another save.
He helped to salvage my Mother's Day.
Mom died Dec. 11 and, as a result, my mood was erratic on what used to be a celebratory Sunday.
In search of distractions on a morose Mother's Day, I found myself reading, reading, reading. And texting, texting, texting.
I happened to notice that New York Post columnist Mike Vaccaro had written that he became a New York Islanders fan because of Chico.
The link was promptly texted to Chico, in the form of an FYI. Little did I know that another column — this one — would result.
“I have met Mike, but I never knew that story,” Chico's reply began. “When God gives us a platform of opportunity, it is important to make the most of it. That has been my life goal.
“One moment in Regina was a game-changer for me. The Regina Pats were going to practise at our outdoor rink, next to Dewdney swimming pool. I went from Albert School to watch them. Word had gotten out, so many kids showed up to watch.
“While the players went into the warming shack to remove their skates, we kids lined up to get some autographs. Being shy, I hung back. We followed them to the steps of the bus. And now I was going to finally get one myself.
“I can still see the bus door open. The Pats player, with his skates hanging over his stick which rested on his shoulder, was signing for the kid right next to me. And then the crusher.”
The coach yelled from the bus: “Come on! Let's go!”
The player looked at Chico and said, “Sorry. I will get you next time.”
“I knew there was never going to be another time,” recalled Chico, who was crushed by the experience.
“I never asked for another autograph until I saw Glenn Hall, who was my idol and was my goalie coach in Colorado. But it made me very conscious of being aware of the people who would ever want a favour from me because I played hockey.”
Accordingly, Chico always signed every autograph, posed for every photograph and cheerfully conducted every interview.
There is not a nicer man on the planet.
A simple interaction with him is a tonic, especially when the mood is generally disconsolate due to COVID-19.
One quick text was the catalyst for a reservoir of recollections.
He quickly segued into a story about living on 11-block Robinson Street, near a then Saskatchewan Roughrider named Vernon Vaughn.
In fact, Chico's sister (Sandy) was the babysitter for Vernon and Mary Vaughn's children — son Van and daughter Valanda. From time to time, an awestruck young Chico would see Vernon taking his son for some treats at the 5th Avenue Tea Room.
“Vernon Vaughn became my idol,” Chico recalled from Brainerd, Minn.
“Taylor Field created more awe in my fantasy world than Maple Leaf Gardens or the Montreal Forum ever did.”
So, one night in 1960, 12-year-old Chico saw the Riders play at Taylor Field. After the game, he and some friends hurdled the fence that surrounded the playing field and were soon mingling with the players.
“I felt the strongest hand on my shoulder that spun me around,” he said, “and on the other end of that hand was Vernon Vaughn.
“He recognized me out of all those other fans. Then he unclipped his chinstrap and said, ‘Would you like this?' Oh my. I had never had a feeling of self-worth like I did at that moment.”
Sadly, Vaughn was only 25 when he died of leukemia on March 9, 1961. He was buried in his Roughriders jersey (No. 78).
Over the years, Sandy stayed in touch with Mary Vaughn, who by 1985 was living near Washington, D.C. Chico was then with the New Jersey Devils, with whom he remains affiliated as a broadcaster and team ambassador.
Sensing an opportunity, Chico's sister orchestrated a reunion when the Devils were in Washington to play the Capitals.
“During that time together,” Chico reflected, “I reached into my pocket and gave Mary the chinstrap that Vernon had given me 25 years earlier on that hallowed piece of turf called Taylor Field.”