"I was just happy to get out of that miserable equipment," Hall said, laughing again. "I don't think I wanted to look at the photo the first time because I knew the result. When you make a good save, the photographers will say, 'That would have been great if the guy had scored.' But giving up that goal didn't bother me one little bit. We were playing a superstrong team, one that they were claiming was as good as any NHL team ever, and we're an expansion team, in overtime, against them. Well, boy, that's complimentary for the St. Louis Blues (in their third NHL season) at the time."
The photo still comes to Hall at his home in Stony Plain, Alberta, outside of Edmonton, for his signature, which is often to be added beside the Orr autograph that's already been inked.
There are other photos of himself that Hall enjoys more than this one, notably one of him in an almost impossibly deep crouch that appeared uncredited with a 1962 Sports Illustrated story. The photo became the cover image on the U.S. edition of his 2002 biography, "Glenn Hall: The Man They Call Mr. Goalie," by Tom Adrahtas.
"I like that photo as much as any other," said Hall, who without a mask, at great risk, pioneered the butterfly style and often dropped very low to see through the forest of legs in front of him.
"I'd stand on my tiptoes to look over players if that's what conditions required. I'd look underneath them or to the side, when you knew you were vulnerable on the other side. But you always had to realize, 'If I can see it, I can stop it.' "