By-a-Hair LeClair is toast of St. Albans
It has been 25 years since the Montreal Canadiens won the Stanley Cup. Leading up to the anniversary on June 9, we’ll be tracking the Habs’ route to victory with articles from the Montreal Gazette archives.
Original publication date: June 8, 1993
Original headline: (By-a-Hair) LeClair is talk of St. Albans; Smalltown Vermonter got act together after blast from Demers
The Habs can clinch the Cup with a win at home tomorrow night.
These are three fascinating things you probably didn’t know about St. Albans, Vt. (pop. 10,000):
The town 12 miles from the ■
Canadian border was the site of the northernmost battle of the American Civil War.
At 45 degrees, it is equidistant ■ between the Equator and the North Pole.
It has been mentioned in the ■
Guinness Book of World Records for having the world’s largest sundae, the world’s largest pancake and the world’s largest snowman.
“I think the only one left is the pancake,” John LeClair said.
The Canadiens’ streak of 10 straight overtime wins should make the Guinness book any day now and when it does, the name of John (By-a-Hair) LeClair will get prominent billing. LeClair has scored the last two overtime winners against the Los Angeles Kings, making him the most famous St. Albans native in history.
He is certainly bigger than boxing trainer Ollie Dunlap, although a while back, there was a female mayor — LeClair thinks her name was Smith — who was murdered and got an awful lot of ink.
There was a crowd down at the Sherwin-Williams store on Main St. (Robert LeClair, mgr.) yesterday to celebrate the two goals by the favourite son, who is sort of the maple syrup on the town’s record flapjack. LeClair is the only Vermont native ever to play in the National Hockey League, a former star at the University of Vermont 25 minutes down I-89 in Burlington. The sense of pride in a homeboy is as profound as anything in small-town Canada.
“St. Albans is a nice place,” said LeClair, who is a semester away from a degree in small business management. “Back in January, it made some list as one of the top 100 small towns in the United States.
“I’m quiet. Some people don’t think I talk enough, but I guess that stems from growing up in a small place. You get a little intimidated by the big cities. But mostly you keep quiet. You talk when you have something to say. Nobody just talks for the sake of talking.”
So LeClair is not exactly filibustering on the subject of his overtimes. They were self-explanatory. You saw it, write it. LeClair isn’t the most demonstrative of players. After winning Games 3 and 4, LeClair looked like he had played on a line with Bartles and Jaymes.
Of course, his restraint is highlighted by the mask of his face. He has dark circles under his eyes even when he isn’t flying back and forth to California, and an aquiline nose that highlights his jowls. Mike Keane calls him Marmaduke after the big cartoon dog, although Brian Bellows has dubbed him the more popular Hillbilly. LeClair is noncommital. “You can call me anything you want,” he said. “That doesn’t mean I’ll answer to it.”
The one time he did get angry was in mid-season when coach Jacques Demers summoned him into his office and aired him out. Now Demers lavishly compares him to Pittsburgh’s Kevin Stevens but at that time, given LeClair’s size (6-foot-2, 205 pounds) and speed, the coach thought he was playing more like Connie Stevens. LeClair didn’t take the critique too well, but in the big picture of the season, he realizes Demers had pushed the proper button. The coach had touched his pride. Now he is the author of two memorable, if not exactly highlight-film, goals. Half his playoff total has come in overtime. There still is a certain raw edge to his offensive game, and that, too, comes from small-town Vermont. Like most American kids, his skills are not as refined as Canadians’.
LeClair is stronger than he is fierce and can do most of the things for Montreal that Mike McPhee once did. But sometimes his play drifts, and he has the hands of a labourer and not an artiste. Despite Mathieu Schneider’s flattering comparison to Eric Lindros, LeClair looks more like Joel Otto — another name that came up this week in the How-to-MeasureLong-John sweepstakes.
By-a-Hair LeClair is still one behind Sudden Death Hill (1939) and Rocket Richard (1951) for most overtime goals in a playoff year, but he already is taking a ribbing from his teammates. LeClair and Keane were locked in a gin-rummy showdown on the plane home, and Keane was hoping he could knock him off in regulation.
“Overtime against Johnny,” Keane said, “and I’m cooked.”