Andy Brickley

Andy Brickley’s voice is familiar throughout New England and to those of us out-of-market fans who get the NESN broadcasts via the NHL’s Center Ice package. Brickley is the top TV analyst for Boston Bruins’ hockey games. Most fans know he was a part of Boston’s 1989-90 teams that reached the Stanley Cup Finals. What many fans may not know is how hard Brickley has had to work for everything in his career. To pay tribute to his effort and to acknowledge his tremendous contributions to the culture of Boston Bruins hockey is why he is BST&N’s Vintage Athlete Of The Month for April.

The need to prove himself to skeptics started right away in college. Brickley went to school at New Hampshire, but had to walk on the hockey team. He made the squad and played all four years, from 1979-82. By the end of his career he had made first-team All-American and led New Hampshire to the Frozen Four in his senior year.

Two years into his college career he was selected in the NHL Entry Draft, but by the skin of his teeth—Brickley was the final player chosen in a 210-player draft, going to the Philadelphia Flyers. He began his pro career there in the fall of 1982, but a year later he was traded to Pittsburgh, as part of a package involving multiple players and draft picks.

By rights, this should have been the point when his career took off. He scored 18 goals in 50 games, the highest goal output of his career and also had 12 assists. But he ended up demoted to the minor leagues for the egregious sin of breaking curfew. To put the early 1980s in perspective, this was a time when frequent reports of players’ cocaine addictions were becoming public—in all sports. Seen in that light, the idea of demoting Brickley because he broke curfew seems absurd beyond belief.

Brickley eventually landed in New Jersey, which sent him to play minor league hockey in Maine, where he showed again what he could do and returned to the NHL in 1986. But he failed to stick and was placed on waivers making him available to the Bruins.

Beyond the silly curfew stuff, one reason for the transient nature of Brickley’s early career was likely due to the kind of player he was—his strengths were that he was a good skater with good vision of the ice, according to hockey observers, and his specialty was that of a defensive role player. Such a role is crucial for a  team pushing for a Cup, but also expendable if a team wants to turn over its roster. If you’re not a hard-core hockey fan, think of Brickley like a solid eighth-inning guy in major league baseball. Unless you’re Hall of Fame-caliber, you’re likely to go from team to team based on need.

The 1989 season was Brickley’s best. He got sweet revenge against New Jersey by scoring a hat trick. For reasons that aren’t clear, he took more pleasure in sticking it to the Devils than any of his previous employers. With 40 points compiled slightly more than halfway into the schedule, it was his most productive overall offensive season. But again, fate turned against him, this time through his body. Brickley pulled a thigh muscle, and it kept tightening and calcifying. He had to sit out the rest of the season, though he did get a token appearance in that year’s Finals. Offseason surgery put him back on the ice, but now the B’s joined the list of teams who lost confidence. He was placed on waivers.

Brickley wanted to remain as part of the Bruins and went to Maine, of the American Hockey League, and proved himself all over again. He got called back up to Boston…and promptly injured his shoulder. In 1992 he was again playing for Maine and proved himself anew, getting another shot in Boston…and promptly injured his shoulder again. Brick’s body was betraying his heart, and the Bruins themselves were starting to fall on hard times and looking to rebuild with youth. Brickley was one of several veterans turned loose.

Two more stops in his NHL career were ahead, though the minutes played with Winnipeg and the New York Islanders didn’t amount to anything. Brickley’s last impact on the ice came as a part of the Denver Grizzlies and the International Hockey League, where he helped the team win consecutive titles. His shoulder never stopped hurting though, but he found a way to make positive use of the injury—during one recuperation stint, he stepped into the broadcast booth. A new career was being born as an old one was dying.

1996 marked Brickley’s return to Boston to do B’s radio. One year later he broke into television. In 2000 he was hired by NESN and by 2006 he had established himself in his current role as analyst.  Brickley commands respect from his peers in broadcasting, as evidenced by the fact he’s called in by the NBC Sports Network to do some work on occasion. Having made it as a regular analyst in what is surely the United States’ most passionate hockey market is sure sign that Brickley is doing what he was meant to do. The fact he didn’t suddenly come down with laryngitis as soon as things went well is another positive sign that this is different from his playing days.

In writing about some of the great moments and people of Boston sports history, I always enjoy either recalling an iconic event or learning something new. It isn’t often we can be truly inspired. But at the risk of being corny, I found myself feeling just that as I learned more about the man who first presented Boston Bruins’ hockey to me as an out-of-state viewer. Brickley struggled and overcame obstacles on his way to success—not just once, but repeatedly. As much as we all like to watch the player with extraordinary natural gifts, there’s something special about the one who had to fight to get where he’s at. That’s Brick, and something we can remember when he appears on the screen again today for Game 5 of the first-round battle with Washington.

Mel Parnell, one of the great lefthanded starters in Red Sox history passed away this week.

The focus of much of the sports world right now is on New Orleans, between the NFL controversy over the Saints bounty program and the coming of the Final Four in the Bayou next week. Red Sox Nation also cast its eyes to New Orleans, but for more somber reasons.  Mel Parnell, one of the best lefthanded pitchers in team history passed away there this week and BST&N takes this moment to salute him as our Vintage Athlete of the Month.

If there was one thing that marked Mel Parnell it was stability—he was born in New Orleans and he passed on there. He came up the major leagues with the Red Sox and he retired from there. His first big league season came in 1947 when he got mostly limited work. In 1948 he earned a regular spot in the rotation, won 15 games and began a string of six straight seasons of 200-plus innings pitched.

1949 was his best year when he won 25 games, and was a part of one of baseball’s great pennant races. On the Fourth of July that year, the Red Sox were twelve games behind the Yankees and left in the dust. The team rallied and closed to three games by the beginning of September. The surge continued through the final month and Parnell was a huge—perhaps that’s worth of an all caps—a HUGE reason why. In the month of September he went 5-1 and his season overall put him fourth in the final MVP voting. Teammate Ellis Kinder finished fifth, and together they put a shallow Red Sox pitching staff on their shoulders and carried them. The work of Parnell and Kinder is celebrated in the book Summer of ’49, the incomparable work of renowned author David Halberstam. Having read that book and studied that team, I found myself wishing last September that just one Red Sox pitcher would do what Parnell and Kinder did and just put a team on their back.

Parnell’s season that year was a microcosm of the Red Sox year. It should be remembered for an improbable comeback, highlighted when Parnell threw a complete game four-hitter to beat Allie Reynolds and the New York Yankees on the season’s penultimate Sunday. Unfortunately there was more to play. After nudging ahead of the Yanks by a game and leading them 4-0 in the second-to-last game of the regular season, Parnell gave up two runs in the third, two in the fourth and the Yankees eventually won 5-4, then took the season finale in the pennant. In the span of a week, the Sox lefty had experienced the agony and the ecstasy that is athletic competition. And while Parnell thankfully never had to endure the goats horns handed over the years to Johnny Pesky, Bill Buckner, Grady Little or Wes Welker, if I can cross sports, it certainly affected his legacy, if only by omissions. Imagine the place in Red Sox lore Parnell (and Kinder) would have had if their heroic efforts had produced a pennant? Fate can be cruel to teams with guts and heart.

After his retirement, Parnell managed minor league ball and did radio work for the Red Sox.

Boston’s premier lefty was anything but cruel to the team he pitched for though, churning out four more solid years, where he won 69 games. While a 12-12 year in ’52 was a disappointment, the others saw him win 17-18 games a year, continue to keep his ERA in the 3s—and bear in mind that the compressed eight-team American League meant you saw the Yankees 22 times a year. And people think today’s unbalanced schedule can be tough.

Parnell started to decline after 1953 and his big-league career was a relatively short ten years. But in the final  year he gave fans an epic moment, when he threw a no-hitter against the Chicago White Sox. It would be the last no-no thrown by a Sox lefty until Jon Lester turned the trick in 2008.

After his retirement, Parnell did continued baseball work in both New Orleans, where he managed a minor league team, and in Boston, where he did radio work for the Sox. It’s fitting that he was behind the mike for the 1967 Impossible Dream season.  The ’67 team, like the ’49 team couldn’t quite get over the hump and win the World Series (though the ’67 team did get the AL flag). But Red Sox lore remembers the 1967 team for their improbable achievement, not for coming up one game short. History remembers 1967’s ace pitcher Jim Lonborg for his guts in trying to take the ball in Game 7 of the World Series on two days rest, not for that he wasn’t able to win the game.

It’s time that the 1949 Red Sox be viewed that same way, and it’s especially time that Parnell’s season that year get its appropriate place in the pantheon of Sox glory. Parnell—and Kinder, who will let come along for the ride should be remembered the same way Pedro Martinez is for taking a decisive Game 5 in Cleveland while risking a career-ending shoulder injury. It might not have led to a World Series title the way Curt Schilling’s bloody sock did, but it was an epic moment for baseball in general and Red Sox Nation in particular. At this time when he honor the memory of Mel Parnell, let’s give him his due and put his best season of 1949 in proper perspective.

Mel Parnell, flanked by Ted Williams and Johnny Pesky, was part of the all-heart, no-glory 1949 Red Sox

Normand Leveille

BST&N has chosen former Bruins forward Normand Leveille as the Vintage Athlete Of The Month. The story of Leveille is one of lost opportunity and tragedy.

Norman Levielle was born January 10, 1963 in Montreal, Quebec. Levielle was highly touted prospect coming out of the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League.  He broke the century point mark with 101 in his last year with Chicoutimi Saguenéens. The 18 year old scored 55 goals and tallied 46 assists in 72 games.

The Boston Bruins chose the gifted teenage in first round, 14^th overall of the 1981 NHL Entry Draft. Levielle had a very promising start to his professional hockey career. As a rookie with Boston, Normand had 33 points in 66 games with a plus 16 +/- ratio. The sky was the limit for the talented winger from Montreal.

“Norm Levielle was a star in the making” said hockey broadcaster and writer, Stan Fischler.

Levielle’s star dimmed prematurely. Just nine games into his sophomore season, a the Bruins budding star was hit into the boards by Vancouver’s Marc Crawford. During the first intermission, Levielle who still was learning English told Jean Ratelle that he felt dizzy. The Bruins team therapist and the Canucks doctor took a look at the youngster. They noticed something was very wrong.

Levielle was rushed to surgery. It was discovered that he had a defective blood vessel since birth. This defect was a time bomb that went off because of the thunderous hit. The nineteen year old suffered a major stroke, putting him in a coma for three weeks.

The stroke/coma caused major brain and motor function damage. His bright hockey career ended before it began.

“He was destined to be a really, really great player” said Bruins GM Harry Sinden who drafted Leveille.

The Bruins made it all the way to the Wales Conference Finals in 1983 and many thought their run was fueled by Levielle.

Normand Levielle has remained part of the Boston Bruins family. He attended the “Last Hurrah” at the Boston Garden in 1995. There was not a dry eye in the house as Bruins greats Terry O’Reilly and Ray Bourque helped Normand skate on the old Garden ice one more time.

“100 Things Bruins Fans Should Know & Do Before They Die” By Matt Kalman was a resource used for this article.

Three years ago this month, Jim Rice got the call from Cooperstown.

January is the month when the Baseball Hall of Fame announces its newest inductees. No former Red Sox players got the call this year (the only new member will be Cincinnati shortstop Barry Larkin, soon to be one of Terry Francona’s broadcast compatriots on ESPN’s Sunday Night Baseball). But it was just back in 2009 that former Red Sox slugger and current NESN analyst Jim Rice was inducted into Cooperstown. So in the spirit of Hall of Fame Month, BST&N honors Rice as its Vintage Athlete of the Month for January.

It was the end of the 1974 season and the Red Sox were ready to move Carl Yastrzemski from left field to first base, to rest the legs of another future Hall of Famer. Rice was called up for a cup of coffee in September and then got the opportunity to start the season in left for 1975.  The rookie came out guns blazing and put up big numbers. He slugged .491, and drove in 102 runs. He hit over .300 and finished third in the MVP voting, while the Sox ran away with the AL East.

There was only one “problem with Rice’s big year and it’s that he was overshadowed by his own teammate. Centerfielder Fred Lynn was also making his big-league debut and he electrified the Fenway Faithful with his hitting and his aggressive defense in the outfield. Lynn won the MVP award. A crueler blow for Rice was a broken hand in September. He had to sit out the postseason and with the Sox ending up just one run from a World Series title it’s not exactly a stretch to say that injury cost the team a championship.

With Boston’s lineup loaded one would have expected Rice to make a return to the playoffs in short order. It didn’t work out that way, even though no one could blame the blossoming left fielder. In 1977-78, Rice had two truly dominating seasons, totaling 85 home runs, 253 RBIs and hitting close to .320. He won the MVP in ’78, but the Sox narrowly lost AL East races to the Yankees in the pre-wild card days. In the epic one-game playoff that ended the 1978 season Rice drove in a run off Yankee starter Ron Guidry, but missed a chance to tie it in the ninth when he flew to right field with a man on second and one out.

1979-82 were four good years for Rice. His numbers were still very strong in ’79 with 39 more home runs, even if the team did decline. While 1980 was a bit of an off-year, he was able to come back in the strike-shortened 1981 campaign with a pretty good season and then by 1982 he was again pushing close to 100 RBIs. It set the stage for a big 1983 reminder of how good he really was, when the big slugger again led the American League with 39 home runs and 126 RBIs.

Two more years of 120-plus RBIs ensued, but the Sox were having a tough time getting traction in the competitive AL East, mainly due to a lack of pitching and the fact their lineup could no longer cover it up. Roger Clemens arrived in 1986 and along with Bruce Hurst and Oil Can Boyd, gave Boston a real rotation. Rice was ready with another strong offensive campaign in support, hitting .324—the second-highest average of his career—and driving in 110 runs. Boston was finally going back to the playoffs and Rice was finally going to get a chance to shine on the game’s biggest stage.

Oh so close...Rice was tagged out trying to score a crucial run in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.

The ALCS against the Angels didn’t go well for the slugger, as he had an on-base percentage of just .188. But he did make his hits count, bashing a pair of home runs and the Sox won a stunning seven-game series. In the World Series against the Mets, Rice was locked in. His on-base percentage rose to .455 and he was productive throughout the Series. Unfortunately, like so many players in this Series, the biggest moment was a negative one—in the eighth inning of Game 6, with Boston leading 3-2 and two outs, Rice was thrown out at home trying to score on a single. It would have been an insurance run that meant the Mets wouldn’t subsequently tie the game, force extra innings and set up the crushing 10^th inning.

Rice would never again drive in 100 runs, as his skills finally started to decline over the next two years, though he continued to get regular playing time. He still posted respectable on-base percentages and was able to be a part of another postseason, this one against the Oakland A’s in 1988. Ironically it was the same opponent he missed the chance to play in 1975. His career had come full circle. Even if that particular October ended in disappointment, Rice still got a chance to be a part of the Octoberfest that fate denied him his rookie year.

There are critics of Rice’s selection to the Hall of Fame and we can’t altogether dismiss their arguments—the career numbers of 382 home runs, .298 batting average and 2,542 hits are certainly good, but it’s reasonable to question whether it’s HOF-worthy. There are some who say Rice benefitted from playing in the pre-sabermetric era, when the effects of Fenway weren’t as calculated into every state as there are now. But there are others who counter with the fact that Rice put up his numbers as a part of the last generation before the steroid era. If the stats don’t look flashy, at least their clean.

In a way the argument was a fitting end to Rice’s journey to baseball immortality, because he always did struggle to get his due. From being overshadowed by Lynn to struggling with the Boston media to just missing a World Series ring, there was always a barrier he could never break past. Heck, even the day BST&N honors him, Wikipedia decides to go on blackout and prevent further information gathering. If there’s one thing you remember about Jim Rice, just remember this—he was the most feared slugger of his day and he did it clean.

Rice has taken his place with Yaz & Williams in the pantheon of Sox left fielders.

Dennis Johnson

Another NBA season is set to begin on Christmas Day and the Celtics tipoff against the Knicks at noon EST will usher in the shortened year. Boston takes the court looking to see if they have any juice left after three years of coming up short in the playoffs and time ticking on the careers of the Big Three.

In the 1980s the Celtics were coming off two years of missing the NBA title with their Big Three of Larry Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parish. While that version of the Big Three was younger then than our current trio of Ray Allen, Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett is today, there was still a sense of urgency. With Magic Johnson and the Lakers also at the top of their game, opportunities had to be seized to win championships and Boston had not even reached the Finals in the two years following their 1981 NBA championship. Backcourt defense was seen as the big reason why. Boston was soft in this area generally and it was being exploited by Sixers’ guard Andrew Toney, known as “The Boston Strangler” for his production against the C’s. Red Auerbach made the bold move necessary to get someone in who could help. He traded power forward Rick Robey to the Phoenix Suns in exchange for guard Dennis Johnson. The result? Four straight trips to the Finals and two NBA titles that ensured the Bird era wouldn’t be remembered for what might have been. As we get set for another NBA season, BST&N honors Dennis Johnson as its Vintage Athlete of the Month.

Johnson grew up in the suburbs of Los Angeles and after high school he played juco ball at Los Angeles Harbor College. It was here that he developed the leaping ability—specifically the speed in which he elevated off the ground—that enabled him to rebound at a level well beyond what his 6’3” frame would have suggested. Following junior college he went on to Pepperdine and after two solid years was drafted at the end of the second round by the Seattle SuperSonics (today’s Oklahoma City Thunder).

In Seattle, Johnson had teammates in John Johnson and Vinnie Johnson, so while the nickname of “DJ” was probably inevitable under any circumstance, it became a necessity for Sonics radio commentators in differentiating the three. Seattle had the greatest success in its franchise history, reaching the Finals in 1978 and 1979. In both cases Washington was the opponent. In Game 3 of the’78 Finals Johnson blocked seven shots, a Finals record for a guard, but the series ended in disappointment—he went 0-for-14 in Game 7 and Seattle lost. The next time around it was different, as Seattle won the championship and DJ was Finals MVP. He averaged slightly over 20 ppg and knocked down 32 in Game 4 as the series was finished in five games.

One problem Johnson had prior to arriving in Boston was clashing with his coaches. Seattle’s Lenny Wilkens traded him to Phoenix after the 1980 season in exchange for Paul Westphal, a star of the Sun team that pushed the Celtics in the 1976 NBA Finals. The trade didn’t work out for Seattle, but it did for Johnson. His game continued to develop and being on a team without as much talent enabled him to show he could be the first option in scoring as well as a top defender. Johnson was an All-Star in two of his three seasons in the desert, along with continuing to pile up his annual All-Defensive Team honors. But Johnson had more coaching clashes, this time with John MacLeod and it made him available when Boston was looking for a defensive upgrade in the backcourt.

It’s tough to say who’s at fault in these coaching clashes, but there are some common themes. Working against Johnson is that these were two different coaches, with different styles and both very accomplished in their own right. Working for Johnson is that the performance of both teams declined immediately after he left, while he was still able to find success in a new location. What we might reasonably conclude from this is that while DJ did have to bear a fair share of responsibility for any difficulties, they obviously weren’t affecting the team, and the coaches might have been better served in trying to work it out rather than move him out of town.

DJ made Magic's life miserable in the 1984 NBA Finals

Johnson’s impact on Boston was immediate. The Celtics reached the NBA Finals and now it was time for him to match up with Magic Johnson. DJ turned in a brilliant performance and the ’84 Finals are considered the lowlight of Magic’s otherwise magnificent career. It’s not for nothing that the Laker legend called DJ “the best backcourt defender of all time.” Boston won the title in seven games. The following year they lost to the Lakers in six, although DJ had a high point of hitting the game-winning shot in the fourth game. Perhaps Johnson’s finest hour came in losing Finals effort in 1987. After a championship run in 1986, the Celts entered the ’87 postseason with the injury bug hitting McHale, Bird and Parish. All of the Big Three played, but they were all obviously hurting and the Celts had to survive epic seven-game battles with Milwaukee and Detroit just to reach the Finals. Though the team was overmatched against a healthy Laker squad, Johnson did everything he could for the Celtics, scoring 26 ppg and leading the team. In the midst of this playoff run he was also on the receiving end of one of the most famous baskets in Boston history. Trailing by one point against the Pistons in Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals, Larry Bird intercepted an inbounds pass with seconds to go and DJ alertly cut to the basket and made it possible for Bird to turn the steal into a game-winning layup. It bears noting that without Johnson’s alert reaction, this play might have ended up as a footnote in a Detroit win, where Bird is forced into a fallaway jumper with no chance.

Bird called DJ the best teammate he'd ever had.

The Celtics never made the Finals again until 2008, but Johnson still had three respectable years with the team from 1988-90. Unlike his previous stops, he departed on good terms with all, and Bird would go on to call him the best teammate he’d ever had. For reasons no one is quite sure of it took him a long time to reach the Hall of Fame after he retired in 1991. Not until he’d passed away prematurely of a heart attack at age 52 did he receive posthumous induction into Springfield. Dennis Johnson was as complete a basketball player as there was. He was a top backcourt rebounder and secondary offensive option early in his career. He was a rebounder and scorer in Phoenix. In Boston he became more a playmaker in the backcourt, and while his rebounds went down, his assists went up. And through it all, he played defense. Here’s hoping the 2011-12 Celtics find someone like him who can match up with Wade, LeBron or Derrick Rose next spring.

Patriot linebacker Andre Tippett was inducted into the NFL Hall of Fame in 2008.

As the Patriots’ season hits the stretch drive the question looming over New England is whether the team can find consistent defensive play and a steady pass rush. There’s one player of recent Patriot lore, inducted in the NFL Hall of Fame in 2008, who would have had no problem solving both problems. Linebacker Andre Tippett was the defensive leader of the first really good stretch of Patriot football in the mid-1980s and this November he is BST&N’s Vintage Athlete of the Month.

Andre Tippet came of age in the NFL when the linebacker position was starting to be redefined. The classic linebacker up to that point was one who stayed at home, filled the gaps, read plays correctly and allowed the defensive front and the defensive backfield to make big plays—in short, a linebacker who fit the 4-3 scheme. As passing games were becoming more potent in the early 1980s defensive coordinators were adjusting. The 3-4 scheme was becoming more popular, but while it enabled an extra player to be dropped into coverage it also meant one less pass rusher. The answer to that was to create a hybrid—a linebacker who could be moved around and bring pressure on the edge and play either stand-up or in a three-point stance. Tippett was suited to the task.

In college, the Iowa Hawkeyes had recruited Tippett out of a local community college and he’d gone on to have tremendous success as a defensive end playing in the 4-3. He was All-Big Ten twice and in his senior year of 1981 made All-American, as Iowa went to the Rose Bowl. The Hawkeyes ’81 Rose Bowl trip was historic because it marked the first time in 14 years someone other than Michigan or Ohio State won the Big Ten.  Tippett had shown he could handle the job of playing as a down lineman and his tremendous natural athletic ability and speed gave every confidence he could handle a switch to linebacker at the NFL level.

The Pats drafted him in the second round the following spring and broke him in slowly. There was a players’ strike in 1982 that reduced the season to nine games and Tippett got most of his playing time on special teams.  He became a full-time starter in 1983 and one year later began to show the dominance that would mark his career.

Tippett was one of the great pass-rushing linebackers of all time, with his 100 career sacks ranking fourth at his position. He registered 18.5 of those in 1984, a mark that still stands as the single-season franchise record. In 1985 he put up 16.5 and 12.5 more came in 1987. Before you immediately see a performance decline, consider two points. The 12.5 sacks in 1987 came in another strike year and while the league played 15 games, three of those took place with replacement players. And in either case, those seasons rank second and third on the Patriots’ all-time single season sack list. Tippett holds the 1, 2 & 3 spots in the category of single-season sacks by a New England Patriot.

Tippett was part of a group of pass-rushing linebackers that re-defined the position in the mid-1980s.

New England was reaching what was the high point of the franchise history to that point. Ron Meyer, the coach who’d drafted Tippett, had been dismissed midway through 1984 and replaced by Raymond Berry. The Patriots won the AFC Championship in 1985 and Tippet was AFC Defensive Player of the Year. One year later the team was in first place, but Tippett had to undergo knee surgery at midseason. He pushed himself back into the lineup late in the year, the Pats won the AFC East and Tippett was on the field for a divisional round playoff loss in Denver. Given the competitiveness of the game (a 22-17 final that New England led in the fourth quarter) it’s reasonable to wonder what might have happened with Tippett able to play at full throttle.

The team began to decline after 1986 and Tippett would not see postseason play for the balance of his career. He still won another AFC Defensive Player of the Year award in ’87, made the Pro Bowl again in 1988, and continued to play at a high level. While his pass rush skills began to decline as he aged, he made the transition to continuing to be a solid veteran linebacker in the classic mold, making his reads and getting his tackles.

Through success and disappointment Andre Tippett carried himself with class, on and off the field. He’d had a tough upbringing, as he left his Alabama home at the age of seven with his mom and sister to begin a new life in New Jersey.  Going to school on the Jersey streets, Tippett turned to martial arts to learn to defend himself, but through it found something more. In a story that seems almost right out of The Karate Kid, he learned the importance of mind and body balance. When he went on to high school, his football coach, Frank Verducci became a father figure to him and infused the young man with the discipline needed to succeed. Tippett remained close to Verducci throughout his life and has sought to give that same sort of fatherly hand back to other young people in today. The Hall of Famer works the Patriots as a Director of Community Outreach, and is also a Pop Warner football coach.

At every level, Andre Tippett is a success story and for that reason BST&N is proud to honor him as November’s Vintage Athlete of the Month.

Milt Schmidt

We honor Milt Schmidt as the Boston Sports Then and Now Athlete of the Month.  Eddie Shore may have been “Mr. Hockey” but Milt Schmidt is Mr. Bruin. Schmidt has been a member of the Bruins organization for over 75 years as a player, coach, assistant general manager, general manager and manager of the Boards and Blades club at the Boston Garden. He is the true ambassador of the Boston Bruins.

Milton Conrad Schmidt was born on March 5, 1918 in Kitchener, Ontario. He played junior hockey with his childhood friends, Woody Dumart and Bobby Bauer before all three had their rights acquired by the Boston Bruins in 1935. In 1937, all three would be reunited to form the “Kraut” line for the Bruins. They received this moniker due to their German ancestry.  They were a lethal trio leading Boston to Stanley Cup Championships in ’39 and ’41. During the ’39 Cup run, the line mates finished 1-2-3 in scoring which had never been done before. Schmidt would win the scoring title the following year.

The “Kraut” line would have probably had their names inscribed on Lord Stanley a few more times if it wasn’t for World War II. Schmidt, Dumart and Bauer would enlist in the Canadian Royal Air Force and would miss four seasons before returning to the NHL during the ’45-’46 season.  Even though Schmidt lost playing time during his prime, he still produced at a high level.  In his second season back, the talented forward posted career numbers with 62 points in 59 games.  After three subpar seasons, Schmidt had his most productive year during the ’50-’51 campaign and was named team captain.  He captured the Hart Trophy awarded to the most valuable player in the NHL.  However, his team did not have much success, losing to the Maple Leafs in the first round of the playoffs (four games to two).

At the age of 36, Milt Schmidt called it a playing career. In 16 seasons, he amassed 575 points in 776 games and was inducted into to the Hockey Hall of Fame in 1961.  His playing days may have ended, but he was far from done with hockey.

Schmidt would replace his former coach, Lynn Patrick behind the Boston bench. He would coach the Bruins for 11 seasons leading Boston to the finals in ’57 and ’58. On one of his many scouting trips as head coach, Milt Schmidt discovered Bobby Orr and the Bruins had their franchise player.

In 1967, Milt Schmidt would then trade in his whistle for a desk receiving a promotion to assistant GM. He began laying foundation for the Boston’s next Stanley Cup run in the early 70’s. As GM, he orchestrated one of the most one sided trades in NHL history. He acquired Phil Esposito, Ken Hodge and Fred Stanfield from Chicago. All three players were important parts of the ’70 & ’72 Stanley Cup championship squads.

He would depart the Bruins organization in 1974 to become coach/GM of the expansion Washington Capitals.  After two seasons with the Caps, Schmidt retired from management and returned to the Bruins family. He would stay involved with the Black and Gold through the alumni club and manager of the Boards and Blades club at the Boston Garden. He is the Johnny Pesky of the Bruins as he can always be seen around the club.

The Bruins honored Schmidt by retiring his #15 on March 13, 1980 and raising it to the rafters. Thirty years later on October 6, 2010, the Bruins celebrated Schmidt’s 75 years with the team.  Schmidt won two Cups as a player and two as a coach.  Recently, he helped raise the 2011 championship banner with members of the ’72 Bruins team.

He is 93 years young.

Before he came to New England, Sam Cunningham was one of college football's significant players

It was September 12, 1970 that a man who would soon be a vital part of the Boston sports scene helped change the course of college football history. USC had a big fullback by the name of Sam Cunningham. When opposing players saw him in street clothes they thought he must be an offensive lineman because of his 6’3” 225 lb frame (yes, times have changed). But he was in the Trojan backfield and the night of 9/12, USC visited Alabama to face an all-white Crimson Tide team. Cunningham ran over and around the Tide, piling up 135 yards rushing as his team won 42-21. Legend has it that Alabama coach Bear Bryant made the decision to integrate his team based on Cunningham’s performance.

There’s some urban legend mixed in with this story. In truth, Bryant had already signed an African-American player to come on board the following year, but Cunningham’s performance didn’t hurt the coach’s effort to achieve more complete racial integration. It was a rare case where an athlete’s on-field performance takes on social significance and after three years of success at Southern Cal, Cunningham was drafted in the first round by the Patriots prior to the 1973 season.

It was the start of a good 10-year run for player and team, though it got off to a rough start. Cunningham rushed for 516 yards in his rookie year and was the leader of a mostly pedestrian backfield on a team that went 5-9. The following year Cunningham, gave way to Mack Herron as the team’s leading rusher, something that would occasionally take place in his career, given the importance of the fullback as a blocker. Something worked in ’74, because the Patriots got off to a 7-4 start before losing their final three games and missing the playoffs. Before we think that this collapse was akin to the ’74 Red Sox saga we looked at last week, bear in mind that New England played the AFC’s three great powers, Miami, Pittsburgh and Oakland in the season’s final three weeks.

Cunningham, in the course of his career acquired the nickname “Bam”, with it being used as a middle name rather than a replacement for his first name. His career continued on an upward trajectory the following year as he rushed for 800-plus yards for the second straight year while the offense went through a period of transition. Jim Plunkett, a Heisman Trophy winning quarterback in college, hadn’t worked out since being drafted by New England and was moved out of town. He would resuscitate his career with the Raiders five years later, but for now the Pats were better off giving 22-year old Steve Grogan the keys to the offense.

Cunningham enjoyed a 10-year career in New England and rushed for 1,000 yards in 1977

One year later it all came together. Cunningham again broke the 800-yard barrier and led the team in rushing, while the offense was one of the top units in the NFL. Andy Johnson was an unheralded contributor to the running attack led by Cunningham. New England won 11 games, with only a heartbreaking and controversial defeat at Oakland in the 1976 AFC Divisional Round ending their season. The Pats were strong again in ’77 and Sam Bam had the best year of his career, rushing for over 1,000 yards in the final year that the NFL schedule was only 14 games. The team went 9-5, but in an era where only four teams per conference made the playoffs, those nine wins weren’t enough.

1977 was the peak of Cunningham’s career. He was named to the Pro Bowl in ’78, but this really seems to be a case of selectors being one year behind schedule. Cunningham was still an effective back and the leader on a team that won the AFC East, but he was below 800 yards for the first time in five years despite having two additional regular season games. In 1980, injuries cost him his season and 1981-82 saw the back more or less glide into retirement.

Cunningham was a key player in an era that, prior to the Belichick/Brady era was probably the most consistent period of Patriots history. From 1974-78 there were two playoff appearances, another year that would have been by the standards of today and only late slide in ’74 costing them. The offense consistently ranked near the top of the league in scoring and the fullback who established the run and blocked has to be considered a big reason why.

Sam Cunningham is a member of both the Patriots and College Football's Hall of Fame.

Sam Bam Cunningham went into the New England Patriots Hall of Fame last year. He is also a member of the College Football Hall of Fame. His family’s legacy in the NFL continued with his brother Randall, a star quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles and Minnesota Vikings in the late 1980s and throughout the 1990s. Sam was a valued member of the Patriots for ten years and one of the truly significant men in college football history, BST&N is proud to honor his achievement 41 years ago by naming him the September Vintage Athlete of the Month.

Once Craig James got off the bench he made a big impact on the Patriots in a short period of time.

In most cases, BST&N’s Vintage Athlete of the Month is someone who spent a long time in the Hub. But a Vintage Athlete can be measured by more than tenure. After all, it only took Curt Schilling four years to become a Boston legend. In that same spirit, we’re going to look at another Boston athlete who came to town for a short period of time and helped his team dispatch its most hated rival on the biggest stage. The team is the Patriots and the man is Craig James, the running back who is our Vintage Athlete of the Month.

The Patriots were looking for help at running back prior to the 1984 season. In the same way that this year’s team is willing to take a chance at Chad Ochocinco, the ’84 Pats were prepared to take a flyer on a talented player with some issues. In James’ case, the issues were strictly health-related. He was coming off a knee injury in the spring, while playing for the Washington Federals of the United States Football League. The USFL only lasted three years, but at the time it was a legitimate threat in signing NFL-quality talent, and James’ playing there was not a sign of “minor-league” quality as his Patriot tenure would prove.

New England was coached by Ron Meyer, who was quite familiar with James’ talents. Meyer had recruited the running back to SMU when James was a highly touted high school running back in Texas, fresh off winning a state title and setting a single-season rushing record for the 4A level. James went on to a highly successful college career as he paired up with future NFL Hall of Famer Eric Dickerson to form SMU’s “Pony Express”, winning the old Southwest Conference (most of the current Big 12 South plus Arkansas, SMU and a couple others) in 1981-82, and in ’82 SMU went 11-0-1 and finished #2 in the country. James was a 1,000 yard rusher in 1981 and would have been the other three years had he not split carries with one of the greatest backs of all time. Between James’ Pony Express platoon and Tom Brady having to platoon at Michigan, maybe the Patriots should make a habit of scouting players who split time in college.

James and Eric Dickerson formed SMU's Pony Express, one of the great backfield tandems of all time.

Meyer’s familiarity with James did not lead to success for the running back. Halfway through the ’84 campaign, James had yet to see any serious playing time. But a revolt against the head coach in the locker room would lead to a midseason change. Meyer was canned and the Sullivan Family brought in Raymond Berry. Ironically, it would be a wide receiver who’d made his name as Johnny Unitas’ favorite target that would do for James what his college coach couldn’t and that’s commit to the running game and make the back a key part of the offense.

James rushed for 79 yards against the Jets, and a 25-yard touchdown jaunt was his first score in the NFL in Week 9. He followed it up with a 120-yard performance at Denver, a Bronco team that was on its way to a 13-3 season. On Thanksgiving Day, James went back home to Dallas and put on a show for the national audience, rushing for 112 yards in a heartbreaking 20-17 loss. Before the season was out James would have a good game at Philadelphia and run over then-hapless Indianapolis for 138 yards in the season finale. New England missed the playoffs, but finished at 9-7 with hope for the following year.

With Berry in charge right from the start, ’85 had the chance to be a special season and James helped the Pats beat Green Bay in Week 1 when he ran for 99 yards, including a 65-yard scoring romp. He was slowed up throughout the rest of September, as New England played road games against top defensive teams in the Chicago Bears and the then-Los Angeles Raiders. James would get a chance to see both one more time.

With the schedule front-loaded, the Patriots started 2-3, but then ripped off six straight wins with James playing a central role. He was in the high 90s for rush yardage in wins over the Jets and Buccaneers and in the latter game tossed an 11-yard touchdown pass off the halfback option. James helped produce a home win over Miami with 119 yards and the Pats won 17-13. It was the Dolphins who were the hated rival of the Pats in these days, and they’d lost 17 straight games in the old Orange Bowl where Miami used to play their home games. In Week 15 that streak went to 18, as James was held to 58 yards and the Pats fell to 9-6. They still controlled their destiny but the finale against Cincinnati was must-win or Denver would take the final wild-card berth from them. James and the entire team answered the bell. The running back rolled for the biggest yardage day of his career with 142 yards, and the team chiseled out a 34-23 that earned them a playoff date with the Jets.

James led the way to upset wins over the Raiders and Dolphins and the 1985 AFC title.

James did not have a big game in the playoff opener, but nor did any other offensive player on either team. The Pats defense intercepted four Ken O’Brien passes and the win over the Jets set up a rematch with the Raiders in the Los Angeles Coliseum. The Raiders were the #1 seed in the AFC and the country looked forward to watching them play Dan Marino’s Dolphins the following week for a Super Bowl trip. James had something else to say—he ran over LA’s defense for 104 yards and the Pats pulled a stunning 27-20 upset. Now all that was left between them and a New Orleans date in Super Bowl XX was those hated Dolphins.

It was raining steady, if not hard for the AFC Championship Game down in the Orange Bowl. It was already known that the NFC champ was the Chicago Bears, now 17-1 with their only loss being to Miami. A Super Bowl rematch between the two was assumed and highly anticipated. Once again, the running game led by James would get in the way. The game was never in doubt. James rushed for 105 yards and the final score was 31-14.

The team James and the Patriots ran into for the Super Bowl was the greatest defensive juggernaut of all time, and Chicago completely shut down any hope of a glorious ending. But it was still the greatest run New England would have before the Brady/Belichick tandem showed up in town. The running game led by James vanquished a hated rival with a Super Bowl berth at stake and put Patriot football on the map for the first time. For all of those reasons, and with the hope that perhaps one or more of the new acquisitions floating around training camp this August can have similar success, Craig James is BST&N’s Vintage Athlete of the Month.

Cy Young

July is the month for the All-Stars in baseball and in the long history of Boston perhaps no star shone brighter than that of Cy Young. The turn-of-the-century star’s legacy is certainly best known for the fact that most people don’t know him as a player, but as an award—the one given to the top pitcher in both the American and National League each year. He spent the prime of his career for the Red Sox, and he is BST&N’s Vintage Athlete of the Month.

Young grew up in farm in Ohio and like many in 19th-century America, quit school after sixth grade so he could help the family. His side hobby was baseball and he was good at it, playing semi-pro ball in 1888. He was good enough that he got an offer to play for nearby Canton (home of the Pro Football Hall of Fame) the next season. Cy Young’s career was underway.

The young pitcher’s fastball got the attention of scouts and even though he went just 15-15, his potential and favorable circumstances got him to the major leagues after one year. The Cleveland Spiders, no more than an hour from Canton, were joining the National League and on the lookout for top talent. They signed Young and he made his NL debut in 1890.

Boston got its introduction to Young in the 1892 season. The National League—at that time, the only recognized “major league”—settled its championship with a split season. The Boston Beaneaters won the first half, and when Cleveland took the second half it set up a championship showdown. Young’s first meeting with Boston didn’t go well for him—the Beaneaters swept the best-of-nine series in five games, with Young losing twice.

Young’s fastball remained his calling card, and in 1895 he added up a changeup to reduce the stress on his arm. His velocity obviously wasn’t clocked in those days, but we do know he was one of several pitchers who threw so hard that the National League moved the pitching rubber back five feet to its current distance of 60 feet 6 inches.

Another unique franchise situation, one that would be unthinkable today, set in motion the next stage of Young’s career. Cleveland’s owner bought the St. Louis Browns and decided he wanted to build up the St. Louis franchise. The Spiders’ better players, including Young were transferred west. After two productive years there, more change was in the offing. The American League was the new kid on the block and looking to make its mark. They began a raid of National League teams and at age 34,  Young took advantage of the opportunity to sign with the Boston Americans (later to be the Red Sox) for a cool $3,500 a year. Even translated into today’s dollars, the greatest pitcher in baseball history was locked up for $92,000 a year. His catcher, Lou Criger, went with him and Young immediately won the Triple Crown for pitchers, leading the league in wins, ERA and innings pitched (Yes, I know the actual Triple Crown has K’s rather than IP, but I think it’s more important how long a pitcher works than how he gets men out).

Young’s career in Boston breaks into two distinct phases. The first is the glory years. If the award that bears his name had existed back then, Young would have been a clear winner each year from 1901-03. In all three of those years, he led the league in wins, and either ERA or IP. He racked up 93 wins in this timeframe and while it’s true that starters were the pitcher of record more often than not in those days, it’s equally true that the number of 20-game winners was not abnormal by historical standards, with 6-7 per year. It’s really our current era that’s more out of line with baseball history, as 20 wins is an increasingly difficult barrier to cross.

The Americans/Red Sox had good teams in 1901-02, and in 1903 they were ready to make their move. Boston blew away the American League by 14 games, just in time to represent the league in the first-ever World Series against the Pittsburgh Pirates. Young got the start in the opener, but it didn’t go well, as he surrendered four runs out of the gate, and the Pirate win got them out to a 3- l lead in games in what was then a best-of-nine set. It wasn’t until Game 5 that the great pitcher got the ball back, and he took advantage of the moment. He battled Pittsburgh’s Brickyard Kennedy through five innings in a scoreless tie and when the Sox exploded for six runs in the sixth, it changed the course of the series. They won Game 6 and Young was back in Game 7 to beat Deacon Phillipe, the Pittsburgh ace who’d won the first two games of the year, but was pushed well beyond the point of exhaustion, even by the standards of this era. The Sox closed out a championship year in Game 8.

In the second part of Young’s career, we see him start to drop a notch—still one of the top pitchers in the league, but no longer the best. The Red Sox won another pennant in ’04 as he won 26 games and worked 380 innings. Jack Chesbro of the Yankees won 41 games and worked 454 innings as the AL’s best. Boston still won the first real Sox-Yanks pennant race as New York finished second. The more prominent New York team, the National League Giants, won the pennant and refused to play the World Series. NL pride was stinging from the previous year and John McGraw refused to play it off. The following year, the Red Sox fell to middle of the pack. Young posted a 1.82 ERA and worked 320 innings, but the W-L record dipped to 18-19, while Philadelphia A’s starter Rube Waddell was the best in the league.

1906 was the worst of Young’s tenure in Boston and ushered in the declining phase of his career. His 3.19 ERA was the lowlight of a season that saw him work less than 300 innings and lose 21 games. The Red Sox were abysmal, finishing 49-105. A new generation of pitchers led by Ed Walsh for the White Sox and Addie Joss of the Indians were now the leaders in the AL, with Young and Waddell fading into the background. Cy still came back strong in 1907-08, finishing with a 42-26 record and averaging over 300 IP per year. But he was now in the lower parts of the Top 10 in the major pitching categories, as opposed to the top five, as was the case in 1904-05. The fact we can consider ranking 8th or 9th in the AL in a category as evidence of a decline is a mark of how truly dominant Young was. By the end of ’08, the Red Sox had improved back to the middle of the pack and were just four years away from starting a run that would see them win four World Series in seven years.

Young wouldn’t be a part of that. He was traded to Cleveland prior to the 1909 season, where he began his final descent into retirement. He worked 294 innings in ’09, but dropped down to the 160s over the next two seasons and in 1912-13 he was basically a part-time mop-up pitcher.

The magic number associated with Cy Young is 511—the astonishing number of games he won. He’s 94 wins ahead of the second place man, Walter Johnson. To put that 94-win gap in perspective, it’s the same gap that exists between #2 Johnson and #16 Phil Niekro. Young blew away the field. Forget DiMaggio’s hitting streak—this is the record that will stand forever. You could win 20 a year for 25 straight years and still have a little more work to do. Young also threw the first perfect game in American League history outdueling Waddell in 1904 in a 1-0 battle of the aces. After his retirement he continued to stay active in baseball and donated mementoes to the Hall of Fame and its founding. Cy Young took his own deserved place in the Hall in 1937. He ended his life where he began, on the farm in Ohio. In between he made an extraordinary mark on baseball history.