Mother’s Night at The Joe: when Osgood battled Roy

One woman in the wild Joe Louis Arena crowd — the smartly dressed one all the way from British Columbia — didn’t want to see Chris Osgood fight Patrick Roy.

That woman was Osgood’s mother.

On April Fool’s Day in 1998, I wrote those words for the Detroit Free Press. Technically, I did not write them; I dictated them over a ratty pay phone that reeked of beer in the Joe Louis Arena concourse. It was late in the third period of a classic showdown between the Red Wings and the Colorado Avalanche during the rivalry’s heyday.

Osgood versus Roy ranks as one of the most memorable fights in The Joe’s 38-year history. Not only did a Wings goalie rough up Roy for the second straight season, Osgood finally won over fans by standing up to the Avalanche’s arrogant bully between the pipes. Seventy-seven days later, Osgood stopped 30 of 31 shots as the Wings swept Washington for back-to-back Stanley Cups after their 42-year drought.

Wings fans from the 1990s know the story well. I have a few behind-the-scenes additions from that night that underscore a mother’s love and fear, a coach’s peculiar nature and a goalie’s shining moment.

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION

First, my backstory:

By April 1, 1998, I had been the sports editor of the Free Press for five years. The Free Press hired me in 1983 right out the University of Kansas to be a copy editor in its sports department. I had been a lifelong hockey fan, learning the sport growing up in Philadelphia when the Original Six doubled. In the eighth grade, my family moved to suburban Kansas City, and I watched the Flyers win a Stanley Cup on a PBS station. Soon after, the NHL arrived in Kansas City, led by Sid Abel as general manager. The Scouts lasted only two miserable seasons before moving to Denver, posting a 1-35-8 record in their last 44 games.

When I arrived in Detroit, Mike Ilitch was frantically trying to end the Dead Wings era and spruce up The Joe. By the late ’80s he accomplished both feats. Meanwhile, I learned to skate at age 28, started a hockey team soon after and ran a Wings season-ticket consortium.

I was smart enough to keep two of the four tickets for March 26 and June 6 in 1997 — Fight Night at The Joe when Darren McCarthy pounded Claude Lemieux and the glorious night the Stanley Cup returned to the Motor City.

I was in my seats in Section 203B again on April 1, 1998. They were great seats, a few rows up in a corner of the upper bowl. The two seats to my left belonged Chris Osgood.

Even though I could have been in the press box at any time with my sportswriters, I preferred to watch from the stands. I usually attended a half-dozen games during the season and all the playoff games, after which I would hustle back to the Free Press’ offices to edit stories for the late editions.

There was a standing order for the ticket consortium: Ask whoever was in Osgood’s seats how they got their tickets. Much of the time, they had no idea they were Osgood’s seats. The tickets, we determined, often went to fans at The Post bar and then were passed around. On a few occasions, a man with a briefcase sat in the seats; we figured that was an agent. On other occasions, a man who said he was Osgood’s friend sat there. More frequently, well-dressed, attractive women, definitely wives or girlfriends, were in the seats; we called them the Satin Blouse Club.

On April 1, 1998, a middle-aged couple were in the seats. As SOP, I asked how they got their tickets, and Joy Osgood proudly but quietly said her son played for the Wings. She didn’t want other fans to know and she didn’t want to name her son. Using all my journalism skills, I pried the name out of her — and then she opened up and started prying herself.

She told me how fearful she was that Roy would try to fight her son. I tried to reassure her that goalie fights were so rare it that wouldn’t happen again. She told me that her son had never been in a big-time fight and was a lover not a fighter. Again I tried to reassure her. She also told me that her husband, Chris’ stepfather, was a huge fan of anthem singer Karen Newman. (Later, after Detroit’s Own delivered her typically rousing performance, he turned to me and yelled, “What a pair of lungs on that woman!” Joy rolled her eyes and laughed in I-told-you-so fashion.)

Before the game, Joy asked me who usually sat in her son’s seats. I told her a possible agent (she nodded), described the friend (who she said sold hot tubs) and mentioned folks who had no idea the seats were Osgood’s (she said he gave them away a lot). Then she asked me what she really wanted to know: What women had used the seats?

I stuck to the bro code and said I really hadn’t noticed. But I had. More later on the future Jenna Osgood.

HOCKEY’S BEST RIVALRY

The game itself took on a playoff atmosphere. The Avalanche relied more its brawn than its skill and finesse in part because superstar centers Joe Sakic and Peter Forsberg were injured. The Wings matched the Avs hit for hit and cheap shot for cheap shot.

Colorado’s Jeff Odgers committed a roughing penalty 26 seconds into the game. Less than five minutes later, Colorado’s Aaron Miller and Detroit’s Tomas Holmstrom were sent off for roughing, but at the same time Roy received penalties for elbowing and unsportsmanlike conduct.

The course had been set. Each team racked up more than 100 penalty minutes.

Joy Osgood stayed on edge during the rough play and the parade to the box.

Another course also had been set: Despite spending six of the game’s first nine minutes on the power play, the Wings had nothing to show for it. After two periods, each team was 0-for-6 with the man advantage, and the Avs had managed only eight shots.

Sergei Fedorov broke the scoreless tie with 12:54 left in the game. He had missed the season’s first 59 games because of a contract dispute and had been booed regularly at The Joe since his return. On this night, he returned from a two-game suspension for a hit from behind, coach Scotty Bowman put him on a line with Steve Yzerman and Brendan Shanahan, and his offensive brilliance won over the fans again.

To break the tie, Fedorov won a face-off, received a nifty backhand pass from Yzerman in the high slot and, utilizing a Shanahan screen, beat Roy. The Joe erupted.

Little more than four minutes later, Fedorov intercepted a Sandis Ozolins pass at center ice, dashed past a diving Keith Jones trying to slash him, jumped over Ozolins’ diving poke check and rifled a shot past Roy on the blocker side. The Joe went insane.

“I just want to thank all the fans,” Fedorov told reporters. “I don’t want to cry in front of you, but it was very emotional for me.”

Less than 90 seconds after Fedorov’s second goal, all hell broke loose for the second straight spring. It all started innocently enough along the boards at the Avs’ blue line when Colorado’s Warren Rychel and Bob Rouse started poking each other after a whistle. Then Odgers arrived to deliver a two-handed shove to Rouse’s chest. A scrum quickly engulfed all 10 skaters.

Five wrestling matches ensued until Martin Lapointe and Aaron Ward, battling inches apart, threw a pair of Avs to the ice and pounced on top of them. Referee Terry Gregson stood near their pileup looking dispassionate.

But the pileup drew Roy from his crease on a slow skate. To travel lighter, he left his stick, mask and gloves atop his goal. When Roy reached the pile, Gregson turned him away. So Roy turned toward center ice. Gregson tried to restraint him, but only halfheartedly.

Osgood, meanwhile, had left his crease but waited on his side of the blue line, still holding his sick and wearing his gloves.

Roy pointed at Osgood, clapped his hands and pointed again. Osgood dropped his stick and removed his mask and gloves. They meet near the face-off dot on the far side from the benches.

Joy Osgood couldn’t believe her eyes. Her worse fears were coming true.

“Chris, get back in the goal! Chris, get back in the goal!” she shouted at the top of her lungs from Section 203B. “No! No! No! Chris, get back in the goal!”

On the Wings bench, trainer John Wharton kept Bowman from jumping the boards. “I think Scotty was a little agitated,” Wharton said later. Associate coach Dave Lewis turned to Kris Draper, one of Osgood’s closest friends, and asked whether the goalie could fight. “I guess we’ll find out,” Draper replied.

Then the punches started. The Joe was louder than after Fedorov’s goals. Joy Osgood couldn’t watch. Initially. Then she stole a glance. Then another. And then she started yelling again: “Get him, Chris! Get him! Get him!”

Although four inches shorter and likely 25 pounds lighter, Osgood went toe-to-toe with Roy just as Mike Vernon had a year earlier. Osgood landed several lefts right away as Roy’s punches went high or wide. Roy landed a flurry of rights as Osgood became entangled in his jersey. But once free, Osgood rallied back, landed a few rights and, 33 seconds after the fight started, planted Roy on the ice in front of the Wings’ bench.

Gregson entered the fray and tried to pull Osgood off Roy as the Wings peered down from the bench. Wharton still had ahold of Bowman. The Joe erupted into chats of “Oz-zie! Oz-zie!” Despite Gregson’s efforts, Osgood kept Roy pinned to the ice.

After 35 more seconds, the linesmen Dan Schachte and Dan McCourt arrived to relieve Gregson and finally managed to pry Osgood off Roy, who skated off raising his arm as if he were the winner.

Back in Section 203B, Joy Osgood started a new yell: “Oz-zie! Oz-zie!” She jumped up and down in excitement. At one point, she turned to me and yelled: “I can’t believe it. That was amazing.” Then she resumed the chat.

She was the proudest mother in the building.

A STORY TO WRITE

After the six-on-six brawl, seven minutes and 11 seconds still needed to be played. Eleven of the 12 men on the ice received a 10-minute misconduct penalty. Rychel and Detroit’s Kirk Maltby also received fighting majors. Roy earned 27 penalty minutes — two for leaving the crease, five for fighting, 10 for misconduct and 10 for a game misconduct. Osgood’s rap sheet mirrored Roy’s except he was spared the misconduct for unknown reasons.

As the officials sorted out the crimes and punishments, I made a mad dash for the concourse in search of a pay phone. In April 1998, I was still years from a cellphone. I tried to calm myself and compose a story about Joy Osgood’s reaction in my head. I dictated seven paragraphs and recommended it go on the front of the sports section, naturally with a large photograph of the goalie fight.

Only a few minutes remained in the game when I returned to my seat. At that point, I told Joy what I did for a living and that I had written a little something about her reaction to the pugilistic drama. She seemed thrilled and we talked some more. At the buzzer, she gave me her business card for His ’n Her Fashions in Grand Forks, British Columbia. The store’s motto was “the image makers.”

As the adrenaline-infused crowd of 19,983 fans exited, I hunted down the pay phone again. I dictated two final paragraphs:

The Osgood family decided to visit this week because they enjoyed seeing the Wings-Avalanche game last March 26, when Mike Vernon roughed up Roy.

“We knew we had to see this year’s game,” Joy Osgood said. “But we never expected this. … I bet Mike Vernon gives Chris a call tonight.”

In the bowels of The Joe, the Wings and Avs aired their various grievances to the media. Bowman lambasted Roy, who claimed he was the victor. Osgood didn’t talk, but his teammates sang his praises.

Bowman on Roy: “He tries everything he can. The only thing he didn’t do was win an Olympic medal, and I’m kind of glad about that. We’d never have heard the end of it. He challenged the Montreal owner, that should tell you about his character.”

Roy on his tactics: “I had no intention to fight with Osgood, but when he came to the middle of the ice, what the heck. My glove was already on the net before I went because I didn’t want to make the same mistake I did last year.”

McCarty on Osgood: “Not too bad for somebody who’s never fought before. He held his own pretty well. You’re not going to see that too often. And I personally hope I don’t have to see that again.”

Draper on Osgood: “It was Roy trying to show up Ozzie. I think he underestimated Ozzie, wondering if he was going to come out and fight him. Ozzie stood up for himself and did a great job … but he was also standing up for our team. And he was doing it for the rivalry and to keep things going.”

In the papers and on sports-talk radio, the overarching themes from the Wings’ 2-0 victory were Roy should stop embarrassing himself by fighting Detroit goalies and Osgood finally won over Hockeytown just as Vernon had the previous year.

In the Detroit News, Terry Foster referred to Osgood as “Muhammad Ozzie.” In the Free Press, Drew Sharp wrote: “Osgood, recently questioned by fans and media, was unquestionably the victor in the physical and psychological sense. By not backing down, Osgood may have forever silenced any reservations about his competitiveness and his toughness. Just as Mike Vernon did last year.”

THE DAY AFTER

Joy Osgood called me the next afternoon and said she was buying up all the copies of the Free Press that she could find. She also had a request: Could she get a photo of her son punching Roy?

Absolutely!

At Joe Louis Arena, Osgood held court with the media and rehashed the bout for this teammates. He also took a jab at Vernon, his former goaltending partner.

Roy “is a lot weaker than Vernie said he was,” Osgood said. “The least he could do is pick on somebody his own size.”

Bowman, however, remained agitated. And some of his ire was directed toward me.

My Wings beat reporter, Jason La Canfora, called from the arena to tell me that Bowman ranted about my little story about his goalie’s mother. He quoted Bowman as saying, “Who’s this Gene Myers? Who’s this guy? And who does he think he is writing about Chris’ mother? Now all the guys are making fun of him and calling him a mama’s boy.”

La Canfora was taken aback. So he asked Osgood about Bowman’s comments. Osgood just laughed. Another case of Scotty being Scotty.

THE AFTERMATH

The season only got better for Osgood after his fight with Roy. Not just with the fans but on the ice.

In the 1997 playoffs, Bowman elected to play Vernon over Osgood, who had the much better regular season. Vernon won the Conn Smythe Trophy while Osgood played 47 mop-up minutes.

In the 1998 playoffs, Osgood played all but 16 seconds. He posted a 16-6 record with a 2.12 goals-against average, a .918 save percentage and two shutouts. In the victory parade down Woodward, Osgood hoisted the Stanley Cup in a red convertible while his mother rode shotgun.

When the photo of mother, son and cup ran in the Free Press, Joy Osgood called me again. And I was thrilled to send her a print of that photo.

Over the next few seasons, I sat beside her at The Joe during games a couple of times. One game when she didn’t like my evasive answer about women in her son’s seats, she asked the person next to me, Becca Rothschild, the Free Press’ associate editor for the editorial page. Because Rothschild didn’t subscribe to the bro code, she mentioned the Satin Blouse Club and described one woman who had popped up repeatedly.

“That’s Jenna,” Joy exclaimed. “We really like her. She’s not like the rest.”

Not did I see Jenna in Section 203B, we would chat a bit from time to time.

Then in September 2001 the New York Islanders claimed Osgood in the waiver draft; he was discarded because of the offseason trade for Dominik Hasek. Although Osgood returned to the Wings as a free agent in 2005, my paths with the Osgoods did not cross again until four years later.

In 2009, Jenna and two partners opened a yoga studio in downtown Plymouth. I dropped by for an open house, which apparently had ended. Only Jenna was left. When we saw each other, our reactions were simultaneous: “Hey, I remember you.”

A few months later, walking in for a yoga class, I saw Joy Osgood sitting in the lobby. She rushed to hug me. She was in town for the Stanley Cup playoffs, hoping her son would backstop the Wings to a championship as he had the previous season. Alas, Detroit lost a seven-game final to Pittsburgh.

I have had no contact with Joy ever since.

As for Jenna, I see her from time to time in yoga classes. And that always reminds me of April Fool’s Day in 1998.

Namaste, Osgoods!