"The Dean of Hockey Broadcasting"

I wish you could hear his voice. I wish you could sense the shiver of excitement when he exploded onto the air with his trademark

“Hello, Canada, and hockey fans in the United States…”

Earlier on, before it became a province, he tacked “…and Newfoundland” to the end of it. But that was before my time. (As I get older, it seems less and less was “before my time.”)

I’ve tried imitating his voice. I can hear it perfectly in my head, but something happens as it works its way out, that “something” being an alarming loss of accuracy. Hewitt’s voice appears to emanate from the back of his throat, as if hiding from the bitter, Canadian cold. The resulting tones emerge distant and pinched, as if the voice itself were wearing a wool hat and a scarf.

But whatever its source, on those windblown winter nights, Foster Hewitt’s voice reverberated across a nation.

It bound us together, a whole country tuned into those Saturday night games. (The NHL schedule was set up so the Leafs always played at home on Saturday night. You can do that when your league is comprised of six teams.)

Everyone in Canada, except for Quebec – where the hated Canadiens games were broadcast – listened to that game, broadcast by that inimitable voice.

The Voice of Hockey.

Foster Hewitt was the pioneer of hockey announcing. He originated phrases still in use to this very day, his most famous call of all – and the title of his autobiography –

“He Shoots, He Scores!”

You can’t really do that call justice on paper. Or whatever this is. That call, especially during “sudden-death” overtime playoff games – is electrifying. A death knell when it’s called against your team, a “leap-to-your-feet victory dance” when you win. How can I convey that emotion.

“He shoots, he SCO-O-O-RES!!!”

Nah. You had to be there.

Foster Hewitt invented “He shoots, he scores!” It seems like, Duh! today. When a goal was scored, I can’t imagine what the earlier announcers would have said instead.

“It’s in the thing!”

“It’s behind the guy!”

“It’s over the place!”

Even if you’re not a hockey fan, you’ll have to agree those aren’t nearly as good.

In “Foster Talk”, a player who slowed down the game (to protect a lead) was “ragging the puck.” An intensely played interlude had opponents “going at it hammer and tongs.” A fight-filled contest became “a rock-‘em – sock ‘em hockey game.”

Before television, Foster Hewitt’s voice was our bridge to the thrills and excitement of a game we could only imagine, our imaginings informed by his defining descriptions. Hewitt was Canada’s eyes. And its emotions as well. Though, being Canadian, he never really went wild.

When TV arrived, it was weird at first. Though the game started at eight, the telecast didn’t begin until nine. This delay forced fans to listen to the early part of the game on the radio, a strategy that made (dollars and) sense when you learn that every Leaf game was broadcast exclusively over CKFH. So what? The “FH” in CKFH stood for Foster Hewitt. With no alternative until nine o’clock, hockey fans were the captives of the announcer’s own station.

Also, theoretically, a nine o’clock television “start time” meant the only way to see the entire game was to buy a ticket and watch it in person. This ticket-buying inducement seems reasonable, until you remember that Maple Leaf Gardens, where the Leafs played at the time, had been sold out since 1942. You couldn’t get a ticket. Out of luck fans like myself had to settle for the next best thing – radio till nine, then switch to TV.

The game expertly called by Foster Hewitt.

The indisputable Dean of Hockey Broadcasting.

“Hello, Canada, and hockey fans in the United States…”

The words remain in my bones.