Bower and Howe created on prairie

SASKATOON — Johnny Bower’s old hockey photos look so iconic — lumpy brown pads, battered face, leg flung this way, arm that.

He looked like a man born to the game. He played like it, too.

As scars mounted and teeth dwindled, as saves and Stanley Cups and red lamps came and went, there arrived one night when Gordie Howe stopped by his crease for a little chat.

Bower — who died Tuesday night at age 93 — told me about it in the summer of 2016, after Howe’s passing.

“He skated by,” Bower recounted, “wished me a happy birthday, said: ‘I hope you have many more; how long are you going to live?’ All that stuff. I said: ‘Gordie, I’m going to out-live you, I’ll tell you that right now.’ And I did, I guess. For how long, I don’t know, but I’m still holding on.”

Bower and Howe were both old Saskatchewan boys, prairie-bred, steeped in hockey from the time they were toddlers. The former hailed from Prince Albert; the latter from Saskatoon.

Money was tight for both kids during those terrible Depression years. Bower’s first goalie pads were made from an old mattress, but he grew with the game, spent most of his 20s in hockey’s minor leagues, and finally broke into the National Hockey League for good, well into his 30s.

Howe scored his first NHL goal at age 18. Bower’s wait was much, much longer.

Bower and Howe battled fiercely on the ice, but they were fishing buddies, too, making regular returns to Saskatchewan’s lakes and playgrounds. There was a quiet, easy respect between the two men.

Both remained hockey ambassadors long after retirement. Bower was a friendly man with a warm smile, a fantastic testament to the types of characters depression-era Saskatchewan and long nights on the rink could produce.