‘A giant in hockey journalism’
Longtime Star sports writer was a power broker and a mentor to generations who followed,
Frank Orr, who covered the Maple Leafs’ Stanley Cup championships of the 1960s and the always eventful Harold Ballard ownership years over more than four decades of award-winning sports writing for the Star, passed away Saturday. He was 84.
Born William Frank Orr on May 28, 1936, he became an institution in hockey writing and won numerous honours, including induction into the Hockey Hall of Fame in 1989. The Leafs paid tribute to Orr during the first period of Saturday night’s home game against the Montreal Canadiens.
He became a true power broker in the sport, offering readers insight into the lives of Leafs legends such as George Armstrong, Dave Keon and Darryl Sittler as well as the can- tankerous Ballard, who held sway over hockey’s marquee franchise for almost 30 years until his death in 1990.
Orr had the ear of everyone who mattered in the game. When he walked into a press box, influential figures from Punch Imlach to Bobby Clarke would drop what they were doing and shake his hand.
His writing, snappy and insightful, earned him the Hockey Hall of Fame’s Elmer Ferguson Memorial Award, a lifetime achievement honour from Sports Media Canada in 2003, and induction into the Etobicoke Sports Hall of Fame in 2004.
Tall, dark-haired and unmistakable in the black overcoat he usually sported, Orr’s career later morphed into motorsports writing. Away from work, he loved a nice restaurant, a glass of red wine and the chef’s specialty. He could talk cooking, travel, pucks and cars with
equal aplomb. Much of what he saw and learned in those days was captured in his book “Puck is a Four Letter Word,” published in 1982.
Tributes flowed on social media Saturday.
Orr mentored countless writers, past and present, with thoughtful insight, charm, wit and a dry sense of humour that was in a class all by itself. Former Star sports editor and columnist Dave Perkins summed up Orr’s legacy this way in an email:
“Frank was not a fan with a media pass. He knew and understood hockey and chronicled it superbly while maintaining a sense of humour, something absolutely required for the past few decades of his time covering the Maple Leafs.
“My favoured image of Frank is him leaning in, almost conspiratorially, to tell you a joke — and often for the third time. Yet because Frank was a funny guy, it was always humorous, even on repeat.
“In terms of newspapering, Frank had total recall of names and dates and his mental Rolodex was packed with anecdotes. He feuded with Harold Ballard long before that worthy exercise became fashionable. On the road, he was an excellent dinner companion and his reviews of any Broadway show invariably hit the mark. To call him unique is to undersell both him and the word.”
Sittler, the former Leafs captain, said Orr’s passing marks the loss of another link to the Leafs’ golden days, not long after the death of franchise great George Armstrong.
“Frank Orr, in the ’70s, he was the guy,” Sittler said Saturday. “He always had a good sense of humour. He came to my hometown (St. Jacobs) to do a story and pictures on me and (my wife) Wendy. We went through the Ballard era, and that made a lot of it interesting. But he had respect for players. We were people too, and he cared about that.”
Orr’s sense of humour was one of his trademarks.
Ballard was a favourite target, as in: “Harold Ballard’s hair has more chemicals in it than Lake Erie.”
A frequent traveller and lover of fine restaurants, Orr once quipped “I don’t want to say this restaurant is owned by the mob, but one of the entrees is broken leg of lamb.”
If the Leafs’ performance left a lot to be desired, Orr would whisper to a press box neighbour: “I don’t want to say the Leafs are playing lousy, but can you tell me if the word (expletive) is hyphenated.”
Former Star columnist Mary Ormsby reflected on that sense of humour, tweeting: “Frank was a press box rock star. Dry humour, a love of fine food, wine, art, theatre & travel were hallmarks as much as his witty, informed sports writing. Frank had the ear of sports’ power brokers yet also generously shared biz wisdom with younger colleagues; a rare gem. RIP.”
His impact on journalism is unmistakable.
“I was just a teenager when I joined the Star’s sports department and had the privilege of working alongside Frank,” Star columnist Rosie DiManno said in an email. “He was wry, with a distinctly ironic view of the world. Part of that generation of sports writers who weren’t in awe of the players they covered — the complete opposite of a fanboy. He really got up Harold Ballard’s nose. Ballard endlessly railed against Frank’s coverage of the Leafs, which amused Frank no end.
“What I remember is Frank, in his black trench coat, enlivening scrums with his zingers, never rushed about anything, then banging off game stories with ease. He was respected by players and colleagues, an oldschool pro whose interests ranged far beyond sports — books, movies, fine dining. And he kept himself above the fray of office politics — a very self- contained man.”
The Professional Hockey Writers Association, of which Orr was one of the oldest living members, called him “one of a kind.”
“Reading all the tributes coming in from every corner of the hockey universe not only cemented his legend as a giant in hockey journalism, but showed that he meant so much to so many,” wrote the association’s president, Frank Seravalli.
From 1961 until his official retirement in 2001, Orr forged a reputation for generosity among Star colleagues and the competition.
“Frank was a hero, a mentor and a friend to me,” said Toronto Sun columnist Steve Simmons, Orr’s frequent dinner partner. “I think I learned more from him than anyone I ever worked around — about the life of a travelling journalist. Frank would say, when you go a city, just don’t go to the city, experience it. Eat at the best restaurant. Go to the best show. Take in the best museum.
“As a young journalist, getting Frank’s approval meant everything to me. If he liked something you wrote, and he told you about it, or you heard from someone else, that means the world to you.”
Former Sun editor and writer Scotty Morrison echoed those sentiments in an email:
“Everyone in hockey knew Frank and while he didn’t have to, Frank would always make a point of introducing people to me. He was so generous with his time and his contacts and with helping a young reporter to grow.
“He truly was a mentor — in hockey and in life — and that’s a word that is often overused and misused, but not in the case of Frank.”