Gordie Howe a Canadian icon
There are guys who play hockey, and then there are the guys who define it. In the long and brutal history of the NHL, maybe no name carries more weight, more respect, and more straight-up fear than Gordie Howe. Off the ice, he was “Mr. Hockey“—a gentle giant who’d sign every last autograph and greet every fan with a warm, disarming smile. But on the ice… something else took over. A different set of rules applied—his rules.
Hall of Famer Bill Gadsby once said, “He was not only the greatest hockey player I’ve ever seen, but also the greatest athlete.” But it was another legend, Paul Henderson, who gave the warning every player understood. “He was built like a bull, mean as a cobra, and you had to walk on eggshells around him.” This is the story of that cobra. It’s why the most dominant offensive force of his generation was also the most terrifying man to ever lace up skates. This is a legend built not just on goals and assists, but on broken bones, long memories, and a brand of justice that was swift, brutal, and unforgettable.
To get the paradox of Gordie Howe, you have to picture two completely different people. First, there’s the man in the locker room, a soft-spoken guy who signed autographs for kids and smiled at strangers. He was approachable, kind—by all accounts, a true gentleman. But the second he stepped onto the ice, that man was gone. He was replaced by a cold, calculating force of nature. A teammate once told a story about them being in the penalty box together. However, the gentleman held the door open for him to go in first. But when their time was up, Howe stepped out and slammed the door shut on his own teammate, refusing to let him out. On the ice, it was all business. That image of a silver-haired man, still a powerhouse at 51 years old, standing between his two sons on the ice was enough to make grown men’s blood run cold.
The Foundational Legend – The Fontinato Fight (part 1)
To really understand the fear Howe commanded, you have to go back to one night: January 31st, 1959, at Madison Square Garden. The New York Rangers had a guy named Lou Fontinato, an enforcer who built his career on being the most feared man in the league. The press called him the toughest man on ice, and a few years earlier, he’d become the first player to rack up 200 penalty minutes in a season. For years, Fontinato had made it a point to provoke Howe. He’d use his stick, his fists, anything to get under Mr. Hockey’s skin. One time, he whacked Howe across the head, opening a cut that took six stitches to close. Another time, he split Howe’s lip with a butt-end, then mocked him from the penalty box.
On this night, a skirmish broke out behind the Rangers’ net. Howe skated in to protect a teammate, and Fontinato saw his chance. He charged at Howe, convinced this was his moment to finally take down the legend in front of 18,000 New York fans.
What happened next became hockey folklore. Howe saw him coming. As Fontinato threw a wild haymaker, Howe ducked, grabbed the enforcer’s jersey with his left hand, and just began to systematically destroy him with his right. Players on the ice that night would later describe the sound. They said it was like an axe splitting dry wood. Howe’s fist just rose and fell with the rhythm of a piston, connecting with Fontinato’s face again, and again, and again.
In his autobiography, Howe recalled the moment with chilling simplicity: “that honker of his was right there, and I drilled it.”
Within thirty seconds, it was over. Fontinato’s nose was completely shattered. His reign as the league’s undisputed tough guy was over. Photos of his bandaged, rearranged face ran in LIFE magazine with a simple, stark headline: “Don’t Mess Around With Gordie.” The legendary goalie Terry Sawchuk, who saw it from the other end of the ice, said, “I had never seen a fight like that… They just stood there and hit each other with everything they had.” The message sent across the league was simple and devastating: do not challenge Gordie Howe unless you are willing to have your face rearranged.
The Foundational Legend – The Fontinato Fight (part 2)
But the terror of Gordie Howe wasn’t just about explosive, in-your-face violence. What made him truly scary was his patience. The man had a memory that could stretch for years, and he never, ever forgot a slight. He instilled fear in opponents because they knew he would always get even. It might not be that night, or the next game, but eventually, the bill came due.
Just ask Stan Mikita. The story goes that as a brash rookie for the Chicago Blackhawks, Mikita made the mistake of high-sticking Howe and calling him an “old man who didn’t belong on the ice.” Howe said nothing. Months passed—so long that Mikita reportedly started taunting him about it. Then, in one game, as they skated side-by-side, Howe made his move. He didn’t drop the gloves or make a scene. With quiet efficiency, he allegedly delivered a single, powerful punch directly to Mikita’s jaw, who collapsed and had to crawl to the bench. Years later, Mikita reflected on the lesson learned: “From that day on, I always called him Mr. Howe.”
Even the greatest player of all time wasn’t exempt from Howe’s rules. In 1978, a 17-year-old Wayne Gretzky was playing against his 50-year-old idol in the WHA. Early in the game, the young phenom managed to steal the puck from Howe. The response was immediate. A vicious slash from Howe’s stick came down hard across Gretzky’s hand. Howe took the puck back and growled, “Don’t ever take the puck from me.” Gretzky could only mumble, “OK. Yes, sir, I will never do that again.”
Perhaps the most legendary tale of Howe’s memory involves defenseman Bobby Baun. During the 1964 Stanley Cup Final, Baun blocked a Howe slapshot, famously breaking his leg in the process. The story that’s been passed down, though it’s hard to verify, is that nearly eight years later, Baun, now with the Oakland Seals, tried to lay another hard hit on Howe. This time, Howe saw him coming. He dodged the hit and delivered a brutal cross-check to Baun’s neck. As Baun gasped for air on the ice, Howe skated over, leaned down, and allegedly said, “Now we are even, you son of a bitch.”
These are the kinds of stories that build a legend. They get passed down from one generation of players to the next—a chilling reminder of the man who ruled the ice. If you’re fascinated by the gritty, unwritten rules of old-time hockey, make sure you subscribe to more stories just like this.
The Territorial Protector
Howe’s ferocity wasn’t just for personal revenge. He used it to protect his territory, his teammates, and especially his family. When he came out of retirement to play in the WHA with his sons, Mark and Marty, he laid down a new, unbreakable rule.
Mark Howe tells the story of how, as a young player, he’d get hit hard in the corner. Seconds later, he’d hear blades carving the ice and then a massive crash. His father had just delivered a check twice as hard to the opponent who dared to touch his son. It happened so often that Mark eventually pleaded with him, “Dad, can you wait like a second longer? ‘Cuz you’re killing me.” Gordie was sending a message, not just to the other team, but to his own son, who was often caught in the crossfire of his dad’s protection.
Lanny McDonald learned that lesson the hard way. During a game, McDonald gave Mark Howe a hard, clean hit. He didn’t realize that, for Gordie Howe, family was a line you just didn’t cross. As McDonald skated away, he heard that terrifying sound of someone closing in fast. An elbow landed squarely on the bridge of his nose, blinding him with a rush of tears and blood. A calm, low voice said beside him, “Don’t ever do that again.”
The Respect of Legends (Gordie Howe a Canadian icon)
For all the fear he inspired, it was always mixed with a deep, profound respect. He played in an era without helmets, when the game was undeniably rougher. And still, he dominated. For an incredible 21 consecutive seasons, he finished in the top ten in scoring. He was the first player to score 600 goals, winning six scoring titles and six MVP awards. This combination of elite skill and brutal enforcement is why the “Gordie Howe Hat Trick“—a goal, an assist, and a fight—is named after him, even though he only officially recorded two in his career.
Rivals spoke about him in mythical terms. Jean Béliveau, the elegant captain of the Montreal Canadiens, said trying to take the puck from Howe in a corner was “akin to wrestling with a telephone pole.” Legendary coach Scotty Bowman called him the “perfect player” who rarely had to fight because he “didn’t take any prisoners.” Even his on-ice rival, Bobby Hull, admitted, “It was nice finally having Gordie on my side. He was no fun to play against.”
Howe himself was often coy about his reputation. When asked about his sharp elbows, he’d brush it off as “strictly rumors” before admitting he played “religious hockey—it’s better to give than receive.” But the players knew. They felt it in the corners, they saw it in his eyes, and they carried the scars—both physical and psychological—as proof.
(Conclusion) Gordie Howe a Canadian icon
Gordie Howe’s legacy isn’t just in the record books, though his numbers are staggering. It’s etched into the very soul of the sport. He was the complete player—the blueprint for the modern power forward who could score, defend, and intimidate all at once. Playing across five decades, a testament to a durability that seemed almost inhuman, he was a true iron man.
He wasn’t just a star; he was a foundation that hockey was built on. This was the man who taught Wayne Gretzky a lesson with a slash, who commanded respect from Stan Mikita with a single punch, and who dismantled an enforcer’s reputation with his bare hands. He was a loving father off the ice and a ruthless protector on it. He embodied the savage grace of hockey, proving that to be the best, you had to be more than just skilled. You had to be feared. You had to be Mr. Hockey.
Keep Your Stick on the Ice (Gordie Howe a Canadian icon)
