This piece originally appeared in The Hockey News' Collector Issue on Sept. 1, 2006
BY DAVE FAY
It was the mid-’70s and Tom McVie was coaching the always downtrodden Washington Capitals. After another grueling, sloppy loss, the exhausted team arrived in frigid Winnipeg well after midnight.
As the bus pulled up to the hotel, the no-nonsense McVie informed the team there would be practice first thing in the morning and no excuses would be tolerated. Everybody was expected to be there bright and early. He then turned to the bus driver to make sure he had received the message. The driver indicated he had heard it loud and clear.
The day dawned as much as it ever does in Winnipeg in mid-winter and a very groggy bunch gathered in the hotel lobby. They stood around, complaining about everything conceivable, but most notably about their coach and the way he made the recent expansion team work even harder just because it had lost a few games.
The bus was late and more than a few players took advantage, napping in the easy chairs in the lobby. Not only was it freezing and windy outside, the inside of the bus the previous night hadn’t been much better and one could assume only polar bears would be comfortable at the rink. The prospect of leaving the hotel was frightening, to put it bluntly.
Thirty minutes after the appointed time there was still no bus. Most players snored on in the lobby while a few went for second or third cups of coffee. McVie’s frustration was clearly visible; he had hoped to be halfway through a body-bag drill by that time. Finally the coach called the bus company.
“You called and canceled it,” the coach was told by the puzzled dispatcher. “I’ve got the time right here…”
“Never mind,” McVie said, acknowledging defeat.
Not knowing who called the bus company nor caring one bit, the players happily returned to their rooms and their beds. He never owned up to it, but he never denied it, either, and to this day McVie believes the mystery caller was goalie Ron Low, who in those days needed all the rest he could get.
Years later, when he himself was a coach and trying to get the New York Rangers on the right track, the thought of canceling a few contracts instead of buses might have filtered through Low’s thought process. That was an option McVie couldn’t even dream about.
At least the team had a sense of humor back then. After the its one and only road victory in the 1974-75 season – over fellow expansion team California no less – the players hoisted a trash basket around the dressing room in place of the Stanley Cup.
The victory came on March 28 in the Caps’ third last out-of-town match of the season. They finished last in the overall standings with just 21 points.