Maven's Memories: Denis Potvin's Turning Point

Every successful athlete has a "Turning Point" in his or her career.
Sometimes it's subtle and on other occasions it makes headlines.
What happened to Islanders rookie defenseman Denis Potvin on December 16, 1973 made headlines. Big-time. He later would look backward and call it "My Day of infamy." Also: "My Turning Point."

This was the Islanders second year of existence; an expansion team competing not only with the other two-year-old Atlanta Flames, but with the rebel World Hockey Association.
"No question," said General Manager Bill Torrey, "we had challenges everywhere but we also could tell we were on the rise. One reason was that we had the best rookie defensemen in years, Denis Potvin."
On that fateful Sunday morning, Bow Tie Bill thought he had him. So did coach Al Arbour and the rest of the Islanders sitting on the team bus, impatiently awaiting young Potvin, the last Islander to arrive for the coach ride to Philly.
"We were to leave at 10 a.m." Arbour recalled. "No ifs, ands, or buts."
Based on the world, according to Radar, Al didn't mean "maybe" either.
"I had set my alarm for 9 a.m." Denis remembered. "That would've given me enough time for a quick breakfast, get dressed and drive to the bus outside the Coliseum."
But 9 a.m. came and went. So did 9:50 a.m. when Denis' telephone shook him awake; well, almost awake. He was groggy but not that groggy that he didn't know it was teammate Bob Nystrom; angry!
"Denis, where the heck are you? The bus is leaving in 10 minutes -- get those feet moving!" Bobby Ny implored.
Forgetting breakfast, Potvin tossed on clothes and tore out of his apartment, jumped in his car and tried to cover six miles in five minutes.
Good try, pal.
Denis arrived just in time to find a member of the New York Nets basketball team crossing the parking lot. The basketeer didn't even have to be asked.
"Hey, man, the bus is gone!"
It was 10:06 on WINS Radio. Potvin, by his own admission, "panicked." He sped to the Isles locker room but the door was locked.
Denis: "By now all kinds of crazy things were running through my head, one clouding over the other. What have I done? What will the guys think? How will the coach react? Are the media guys going to ruin me for this?"
He returned to his car and began mulling over his options. The team bus was heading to Philadelphia for a game with the Flyers. It was drivable except that a driving snowstorm was pelting the northeast.
His gas tank was near empty and a fuel crisis had engulfed the nation.
"I decided to go back home since I only had enough gas to get me that far," Potvin allowed. "Now I was just hoping that somebody would call."
In his autobiography, Power On Ice, Dens allowed that in those pre-cellphone years, his only alternative was to phone Bill Torrey's secretary, Estelle Ellery. He tried but no answer.
He had forgotten that one of his best friends, Ray Volpe, worked for the NHL. Had he phoned Ray, there would have been a solution. Get to Penn Station and catch the Amtrak express to The City of Brotherly Love.
"I was naive," Denis admitted, "and I didn't know anything about how to get around Manhattan. Didn't even think about Penn Station. I was all alone by the telephone."

Brrrrinnng! At last a call. It was 6 p.m. and older brother Jean Potvin, with the team in Philly, was on the blower. "What in heck are you doing at home?"
Jean handed the phone to coach Arbour. "What the hell did you do?"
Denis spilled all the beans and added some ketchup. Once he finished his guilty plea, Radar let loose:
"Just stay there. Don't move. Be at practice, ready to go on the ice at 10 tomorrow morning." Then he abruptly hung up!
As careers go, Denis Potvin knew he had already reached a turning point, years sooner than he ever wanted to conceive but it had happened and now what?
In his autobiography, Power On Ice, the rookie was exquisitely candid"
"Al's voice was cutting and I was really afraid I'd managed to screw up my career at age 20. Meanwhile, I agonized watching the game. The Flyers were beating us right from the start.
"And if that wasn't bad enough, I had to watch our team's PR guy, Hawley Chester, going on between the second and third periods. Instead of keeping quiet about my absence, Hawley said, 'Denis missed the bus and didn't even bother showing up for the game."
The Flyers won, 4-0, and Potvin spent the night wondering what the consequences would be when his irate coach faced him. After breakfast, he picked up the newspapers:
Daily News: A SAD STORY BY AWOL POTVIN.
Newsday: POTVIN, GAME WERE LOST.
Even Flyers coach Fred Shero ripped Denis for his absence without leave. But that was the least of Potvin's problems. He had to anticipate his punishment and then how to handle it; presuming that Torrey hadn't traded him by now.
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This time, Denis was on time as Arbour had demanded. He put on his gear and then Radar walked in, strolled past his defenseman and said not a word.
A minute later the trainer shouted, "Denis, get on the ice in five minutes."
That he did. Radar skated out and roared: "START SKATING. UP AND DOWN, BACK AND FORTH."
Denis: "For a solid hour he put me through every conceivable drill. It seemed interminable. Then my teammates started arriving and I could see them shake their heads and I sensed mixed feelings among them. Finally, I got a message to report to Bill Torrey's office; which I did.
"He wanted to know precisely what had happened and I told him what I had told Al, and some of the reporters. I had screwed up. Bill told me he'd fine me but that I'd also have to apologize to the players for not being in Philly and letting them down."
The penitent defender assured his boss that he'd follow through, and he did. A day later Denis stood in front of his teammates and said it plain and simple: "I goofed. I'm sorry about it, and I can assure you that it will never happen again. Listen, guys, I apologize for doing such a stupid thing."
Now the guilty party awaited a verdict from the jury, his mates.
Captain Eddie Westfall was the first to reply. "Next time, Baby Bear won't hibernate in his house."
The guys laughed. Once Potvin saw the smiles on veterans such as Germain Gagnon and Craig Cameron he knew that the worst was over. He had, in effect, been acquitted.
To underline the point, Bow Tie Bill took Denis aside and ended the episode with these words:
"Denis; it's over and done with. You've paid for it physically and monetarily, so we're not going to talk about it anymore."
The crisis -- it easily could have gone the other way -- was over. Denis Potvin would go on to a Hall of Fame career and captain the Islanders to four Stanley Cups and an astonishing 19 consecutive playoff series victories.
"From that point on," Potvin concluded, "I put an accent on the positive. I had learned my lesson and. furthermore, the episode became the turning point of my career!"