It Wasn't Easy Being Cheesy

… But who could forget the crazy goalie with all the stitches on his mask?

Born on December 7th, 1940 in St. Catherines, Ontario, Gerald Michael Cheevers would eventually become a hockey legend in Beantown. And, although Cheesy never won a Vezina as the NHL’s top netminder, he will go down as one of the greatest (and most popular) goalies in league history.

Cheevers began making a name for himself while playing for the Rochester Americans in the American Hockey League. In 1964-65 Cheesy was impressive between the pipes while helping Rochester capture their first ever Calder Cup. Along the way, Cheevers won an astonishing 48 games out of 72 in 1964-65 (still the AHL single season record for wins by a goalie).

In 1967 Cheesy made the leap and joined the Big Bad Boston Bruins, a match made in heaven for the passionate, off-the-wall, netminder. Cheevers’ aggressive and emotional style of play made him a fan-favorite among the Boston faithful. While Orr and Esposito dazzled fans with their offensive wizardry, Cheesy would leave his crease to challenge all shooters, earning the reputation as a money goalie and winning two Stanley Cups with the Bruins in 1970 and 1972.

However, the turning point of his famed career may have been the day the quirky Cheevers took a puck to the face during practice. After the shot rang off his noodle, Cheesy retired to the dressing room for repairs. When he didn’t return shortly, Bruins coach Harry Sinden went to check on his backstopper and found him leaning back in the dressing room with a beer in one hand and a smoke in the other. At that point, Cheesy had the Boston trainer Frosty Forestall paint a stitch on his mask where the puck hit him. From that point on, each time Cheevers took a shot up high, another stitch would be added to the ever-popular mask.

In a 1999 interview with “Be A Player, The Hockey Show,” Cheesy shed some insight on the birth of his stitches mask: “Well, when the mask first became a reality in the game of hockey, the first ones were all plain white and I hated wearing anything white. It was to me a sign of purity and I wasn't in a pure business as far as I was concerned, playing goal and hacking away and all that stuff. And I also had a daily practice of trying to get out of practices. Going to practice, all I could think about was getting out of it. And one day this puck flipped up and hit me in this new white mask I had. It wouldn't have cut me if I didn't have the mask on but I acted like I was seriously hurt, went to the dressing room, and Harry Sinden, who was coaching, came in and told me to get the heck out of there. And so I was about to go out onto the ice and our trainer, John Forestall, said to wait a minute and he went and painted a big 12-stitch cut on my mask and I got a chuckle out of that and we went from there. A very, very simple thing happened there but maybe, just maybe I was the pioneer in the art of decorations of masks. That's what I'd like to think about it.”

In 1972, Cheesy packed up his stitches mask and headed to the bizarre World Hockey Association to play for the Cleveland Crusaders. After a short stint in the WHA (close to four seasons), Cheevers returned to the Bruins in 1976.

Cheesy finished his career in Boston in 1980 and took a job as the Bruins bench boss, coaching the team until 1985. During his 13-year NHL career, Cheesy compiled 230 wins, 26 shutouts, a 2.89 GAA, and a fond reputation as one of the game’s greatest characters.

-- TGOJ

Mike Liut Was My Mailman

... And my mailman looked like Rocky Dennis. It's all about the mask.

Back in 1930, my dawg Howie Morenz used goalie Clint Benedict's bare face as a shooter target. Benedict suffered major facial injuries, including a smashed nose and cheekbone, and was forced to semi-protect a busted face that resembled Sly Stallone in Rocky II.

Enter the mask. A crappy, leather-type, tailor made for WWF's Mankind, Mick Foley, not a puck stopper in the National Hockey League. And though Benedict donned the shabby face guard for mere self-preservation, the experiment was short-lived. The mask was dissed after the next game; a 2-1 loss to the Chicago Blackhawks.

Many years later, in 1959, the heralded Jacques Plante was officially credited with pioneering the mask, after taking some vulcanized rubber to the face, courtesy of the Rangers' Andy Bathgate. And as legend turns to folklore, and folklore turns to gospel, Plante gets to ride off into the sunset forever known as the Don Corleone of hockey masks.

Phooey, I say. The hockey mask was put on the map in 1979, and my mailman Michael Dennis Liut better start getting some props. Not props for the BEST hockey mask of all-time; those honors go to my favorite goalie ever, Gerry Cheevers and his famed stitches.

The mailman deserves props because his mask is a freak of sports nature.

In a recent poll, a panel of 1,238,896 drunken sports fans were asked to rate the top-3 disturbing things in sports history. The results were:

1. Mike Liut's mask
2. Mike Tyson
3. The size of Barry Bond's head

Not only is Liut's mask synonymous with names like Tyson and Bonds; the mailman has also inspired film culture. His mask has been used to mold the face of Rocky Dennis and the Snowtrooper.

Jacques Plante may be in the Hall of Fame and rank higher than Vladislav Tretiak on some all-time great goalie lists, but his shiznit didn't shape a high-selling Kenner action figure.

The mailman delivered between the pipes as well. He was drafted by the St. Louis Blues in the 5th round (56th overall) in the 1976 NHL Amateur Draft, and after a brief stint with the WHA's Cincinnati Stingers, Liut was reclaimed by the Blue Notes.

Liut played a solid 13 seasons in the NHL, with stops in St. Louis, Hartford and Washington. He was a lanky, intimidating netminder, and is the cousin of the ex-NHLer Ron Francis. In 1980-81 he was a 1st team all-star and finished runner-up to Wayne Gretzky for the Hart trophy.

Some suggest it all went downhill for the mailman when the Whale sent his ass packing to Washington in exchange for plugger Yvon Corriveau in 1990. Personally, I think his illustrious career took a turn for the worse when he discarded THE MASK in favor of a more traditional, wire/facemask-combo.

Well Mask, here's to you... pioneer, legend and mailman. Prost! Somewhere Eric Stoltz is tipping his glass...

-- TGOJ