Maven's Memories: My Favorite Clark Gillies Moments

What was so special about Clark Gillies?
Everything.
On the ice everything. Off the ice, ditto.

He scored a ton of goals. He protected a ton of teammates. He was the balance wheel of the Trio Grande Line along with Bryan Trottier and Mike Bossy.
He's in the Hockey Hall of Fame for his surplus of stupendous scores, not to mention passes and the manner in which he protected teammates and provided endless inspiration.
He arrived in Uniondale in the Fall of 1974 after being drafted by Bill Torrey on the recommendation of the Isles chief scout Jim Devellano. I instantly was impressed; Clark was one of the biggest hockey players I'd ever seen and he proved himself even bigger as a teammate that rookie year.

But I actually began to really recognize him when the Isles unexpectedly upset the Rangers in the 1975 playoff opener. Until then the Rangers owned the Met Area bragging rights, but that ended on April 11, 1975.
This was the deciding game of the series and the Blueshirts were supposed to win it. They had all the future Hall of Famers and Isles coach Al Arbour had some good kids like Denis Potvin, Bob Bourne, Billy Smith -- and Gillies.
Even now -- almost a half-century later -- it's tough to surmise what would have happened to the franchise had the Islanders lost that playoff at Madison Square Garden. But the kids came through along with a couple of pappy-guys.
Clark began impressing me in Game One of the best-of-three series, Gillies scored the third period winning goal on Garden ice to put the Isles ahead in the series. That was a huge winner under the circumstances.
The Blueshirts then returned the favor at the Coliseum with an 8-3 spanking that was so severe it was surprising that the Isles even showed up for the finale. Clearly, what the Nassaumen needed was a confidence boost early in the gamel
They got it from Gillies -- assists to Bob Bourne and Bert Marshall -- at 16:00 of the first period and then two more goals from Potvin in the middle frame. Yeah, the Rangers came back to tie it in the third but that was a mere respite.
J.P. Parise got the immaculate winner in 11 seconds of overtime and provided what was the most important single victory to date in Islanders history. Or, as one report stated: "It gave the Islanders instant recognition and respectability."
And the oversized rookie, Gillies, was a huge part of it and would remain so through the dynastic years and even in the disappointing 1984 Final Round loss to Edmonton.
And what I remember about that series was how Jethro courageously emerged as the most potent offensive threat against the Oilers. He finished that entire playoff with 12 goals and seven assists for 19 points. That included a hat trick in Game Two of the Cup Final on the Island which tied the series at one apiece. It would be the Isles only victory and Gillies' last hurrah as a champion.

Yet, from the get-go in his rookie year, Clark proved how multi-dimensional he could be on ice. His paws were as potent as his stick and on the night of May 8, 1975 this was most evident.
By then the upstart Isles had reached the third playoff round against the defending champion Philadelphia Flyers. This was Game Five on Broad Street with the Bullies leading the series three games to one.
But the Islanders had counterattacked and were about to win the game, 5-1, late in the third period. Suddenly Philly coach Fred Shero sent his toughest players on the ice including the then unofficial NHL headweight champion Dave (Hammer) Schultz.
"I figured something was going to happen," Gillies later recalled. And it did. Jethro and The Hammer dropped their gloves and, in the end, Schultz was sorry that he did.
Gillies: "I'd say three of my good punches landed. The first one got him near the nose. I had him going pretty good."
Clark continued to rain punches until Schultz staggered and collapsed in a heap. "That," commented Jack Chevalier of the Philadelphia Bulletin, "was the ultimate embarrassment for any hockey policeman."
Gillies TKO had a huge impact on the Islanders. One hockey historian noted, "It demonstrated that the team not only was improving artistically but that it could also be aggressive and physical when required."
The Flyers high command soon unloaded Schultz and replaced him with another bully, Dave Hoyda. After making the mistake of challenging Jethro, Hoyda sorrowfully commented, "Every time I lifted my head, there was a punch from Gillies!"
As we who knew Clark so well understood, his fistic prowess gave him minimal satisfaction compared to goal-scoring. Yet, as his Islanders continued their crusade for a first Stanley Cup, a fight here and there was necessary.

"I never thought that my job as a leader was to run around the ice fighting guys who give me clean checks," Gillies once stated.
But the Big, Bad Bruins were another story in the spring of 1980. For now Boston's belligerent sextet blocked the Isles road to the Cup Final. One report put it this way: "Against Boston, Gillies was tested as never before, and he responded like a champion."
He scored the overtime winner in Game One and was a powerful presence in the encore. Jethro had to be because his challenger was the Beantown basher Terry O'Reilly. And in several, legendary toe-to-toe slugfests in the series, Boston's prime fighter was outpunched every time they clashed.
The New York Post summed up their match and re-match and another re-match thusly: "O'Reilly's face looked as if he had kissed The 'A' Train after five fights in two games."
Inspired by their left wing, the Isles pushed Boston out of the playoffs and -- with the renewed confidence provided by Clark -- they went on to win their first of four Stanley Cups.
That said, there was the other side -- the off-ice presence -- of Gillies that would have fooled folks who had no knowledge of his hockey exploits. I described him as a "Fun Guy." He loved to joke around or do some zany thing that distracted from his ice success. One classic episode occurred after the Islanders 1980 Cup victory over Philadelphia.
According to tradition, the players passed around the Cup so each could spend a night with it in their homes. When Clark got the big mug, he filled it with dog food and allowed his pet German Shepherd, "Hombre," to eat from Stanley. To those who questioned the rare sight gag, Gillies shot back, "Why not? He's a good dog!"
A few months later, I was exposed to the prank side of my pal. The network, SportsChannel, had dispatched me to Clark's home for an interview. It was midsummer warm so we decided to do the segment at poolside.
Clark was adorned in beach clothes and I was wearing a new suit, white shirt and tie. As the interview came to a close, I suddenly realized that I was dealing with a prankster and I just happened to be at pool's edge. Not good.
Just as I finished closing our chat, I said to myself, "This guy is going to toss me into his pool, clothes and all."
He never did though, but he later confessed that he really wanted to give me a push. "I looked at your new suit," he later chuckled, "and I liked the interview so much, I decided to let you off the hook." And off the water!
That silly scene, by the way, became a running joke with us; right up to last November when we met at the UBS Arena's gala opening. I kept telling him, "Clarkie, you should have done it; that would have been a better story." And he laughed, as usual.
One prank victim who was not spared by Clark was teammate Butch Goring who had joined the Islanders late in the 1979-80 season and spurred them to the Cup. Butch was not much for fashion and frequently would wear old jeans.
Remembering Clark Gillies
ARTICLES
Gillies Embodied Islanders Ethos
Islanders Honor Gillies With Patch
The Reluctant Warrior
Bourne Remembers Gillies
Hockey World Mourns Gillies
Clark Gillies Passes Away
VIDEO
Clark Gillies Tribute Video
Fans Pay Tribute to Gillies
Clark Gillies Moment of Silence
PODCAST
Gillies on Talkin' Isles
Gillies: "Butchie's jeans were so old, they were frayed at the bottoms so we decided to force him to get new ones. So, after a road trip we got hold of his old jeans and hung them up at our practice rink. Then we doused them with lighter fluid and lit them on fire. But Butch got even. He was in charge of the money collected by the team Kangaroo Court and on our next road trip he bought a brand new pair. He took the money out of the Kangaroo Court fund."
Clark admitted that he was going to pull a prank on Al Arbour that might have gotten him traded. The coach was angry over a recent loss and placed an egg in each of the players' pants. "I want you to wear them in the next game," Arbour insisted. "I bet that once the game is over, three-quarters of the eggs won't even be broken."
As it happened, one of the players, Pat Price, walked over to Al and smacked the egg over the head coach's head, thinking it was worthwhile retaliation for Radar's speech. So did Clark. "I was sitting next to John Tonelli when Pat pulled that stunt. I said, 'Johnny, if Pricey hadn't done it, I was going to do the same thing.'"
It was a good thing that Clark never pulled off the prank. Price eventually was traded and, as we all know, Pal Gillies went on to a Hall of Fame career. As Newsday's Mark Herrmann noted the other day, "Clark became the greatest thread through Islanders history."
Gillies remained a dedicated Suffolk resident involved in endless charities and, more than anything, made people smile. He was just that kind of guy. And as I look back on my relationship with Clark I'm reminded as much of all the laughs we had together including one special night in Brooklyn.
This was a few years ago when the Isles still were playing games at Barclays Center. A local sports bar off Flatbush Avenue had invited Clark to come over one night and just talk hockey.
But he did more than that; he told some of the best stories I ever heard and even confessed that he was battling (prostate) cancer. It startled us but Clark, being Clark, assured us that he'd be just fine.
And for some years he was just that, until this winter when the disease struck again and we lost one of the best human beings and athletes I ever had known.
It's impossible to state in mere words how difficult it has been for the vast legion of Clark's admirers to come to grips with the fact that he's left us.
He was the quintessential Islander, the perfect citizen, a super joke-teller and the guy you'd love to have had as your favorite uncle.
Upon further review, I wish he had tossed me into his pool.