Hard as it is to believe -- for me too -- but I've been interviewing Islanders players and members of the high command for a half-century.
My first Islander one-on-one was the club's first Draft choice, right wing Billy Harris, closely followed by the man who picked him -- general manager Bill Torrey.
Right from the get-go, I liked them both. "Harry," as he liked being called, was
an easy-going, live-life-to-its-fullest kind of guy. Billy liked the media and the journalists liked him back.
The closest to a Billy Harris on the current squad would be another top Draft selection, Josh Bailey. Good fella; good talker.
As for Torrey, Bow Tie Bill ranks high on my favorite- interview list. Very high because this was one guy with a rich sense of humor and one who could laugh through adversity.
That was evident in Year One of the franchise when the Isles were so bad Torrey made a joke about it with the following squelch.
"I'm beginning to think that our club's middle name is 'Hapless.' Every time I pick up the newspaper, they're calling us 'The Hapless Islanders.'"
Another time Torrey had the players working out at Roosevelt Raceway when someone complained that the horses were being bothered by his team. Bow Tie Bill nodded in agreement and quipped, "Dogs do spook horses sometimes!"
Incredibly, Torrey's skaters played the defending Stanley Cup champion Bruins one night at Boston Garden and beat the titlists, 9-7. As Bow Tie was leaving, an obviously annoyed Bruins fan said to her companion, "I came here expecting a rout."
Hearing her complaint, Torrey whispered to an aide: "What did she think that was?"
Even the original coach, Phil Goyette, managed to inspire smiles when he learned he'd been fired late in the 1972-73 season and replaced by Earl
Ingarfield.
"What did they think when they hired me," wondered Goyette, "that I also was a magician?"
Starting with the club's second campaign, Al Arbour was the new coach. "Radar," as everyone liked to call the bespectacled leader, had a keen sense of humor sprinkled in his no-nonsense media scrums.
"I want to see a little fun," Radar told the press. "This is not like being in church!"
This got a chuckle from those who knew Al well. He was a devoted church-goer.
If Billy Harris was a good interview from the first batch of stickhandlers, Torrey's first overall selection from the 1973 Entry Draft was one of the all-time best.
Not only did Denis Potvin emerge as one of the top defensemen of all-time but also one of the most articulate. I speak firsthand having been Denis' ghost-writer for his book, "Power On Ice." "
As a post-game interview, Potvin was an interesting subject. No matter what the question -- softball or hardball -- he never answered on the short hop. Before opening his mouth Denis would pause thoughtfully and when he had what he considered the proper response, then he'd talk.
"I considered Potvin to be one of the smartest athletes in any sport," said Jon
Trontz, a young reporter who had befriended Denis at the time.
Left wing Clark Gillies, another early draftee, was quite the opposite -- on the laugh side. When he arrived on the Island as a rookie, Gillies was asked about his hometown. "Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan," he replied.
"But where is Moose Jaw?" the reporter persisted.
"Moose Jaw," Gillies explained, "is six feet from the moose's ass!"
One summer, I was assigned by SportsChannel to do a televised interview with Clark at his Long Island home. Since it was a hot day, the left wing suggested that we hold our schmooze outside, near his swimming pool.
That sounded good and, as always, Jethroe was a wonderful gabber right to the end. When the interview concluded, my producer suggested I add a closing comment with Clark in front of the camera at the edge of the pool.
I liked the idea but when we began the "close," I recalled that Gillies was a notorious practical joker and I fully expected him to toss me into the pool when it was over. And I even mentioned that to him later.
"I was going to toss you in," Gillies conceded, "and wanted to do it."
Then, a pause: "But I liked your suit more than you and decided not to do it."
Another first-rounder with a sense of humor -- provided that you got him at the right time -- was Mike Bossy. When the Isles 15th overall Draft pick arrived in Uniondale from his native Montreal, it was believed by almost everyone that he was a French-Canadian who spoke only a smattering of English.
After the club's first practice, I asked the Islanders p.r. guy if he could send Mike out to center ice where I'd interview him for Hockey Night In Canada. Frankly, I was nervous because -- even though I had studieg three years of French at Brooklyn College, there was no way I could conduct a chat with a francophone.
Dutifully, Mike showed up and before he could dig his blades into the ice and come to a stop, I felt a need to apologize. "Mike," I said, "if you don't mind, I'll have to conduct this interview in English."
When his skates churned some snow to a stop, he looked at me as if I had three heads. "English?" he half-asked in perfect English, "that's what I speak. I'm not a French-Canadian. Let's go."
And so we did. This was one English-speaking Montrealer who spoke so well, Bossy could have given lessons to Winston Churchill!