My dad and I have always talked a ton about hockey.  From as far back as I can remember talking, he and I have talked hockey.  He has told me so many wonderful hockey stories that I have forgotten, it saddens me.   If I could remember them all, I’d have a 1000 rinktale posts to share.  Many weren’t necessarily that remarkable as stories but were in the way he told them.

Whenever he told me one about “Mahovlich”, it was never in doubt he was speaking of Frank and not Peter.  For whatever reason, he respected Frank more.  One of the great Mahovlich stories I can remember my dad telling me was about one time he watched him play in Toronto at the Gardens.  What stood about Mahovlich he said, was how much you could hear him skate.  He’d say you could actually hear the ice being ripped and cut by the powerful strides Mahovlich would take, much more than you could other players.

“…and don’t hit him or get him mad either because then he’d really turn it on and beat you the rest of the game”.  Beautiful stuff.

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