On the Clock: Toronto Maple Leafs: Behind the Scenes with the Toronto Maple Leafs at the NHL Draft

For Madelyn Jane and Beaumont

Contents

Foreword by Steve Dangle

Introduction

1. Jim Gregory’s Draft Legacy

2. The First Pick

3. Bruce Boudreau, Randy Carlyle, and a 1970s History of Coaches

4. From Amateur to Entry and Big Daddy Bob McGill

5. The Defections of the Ihnacak Brothers

6. Toronto’s First Draft…and First No. 1 Pick

7. The Gord Stellick Years and the Belleville Bulls Draft

8. From a Lost Draft Year to Developing the Leafs’ Lost Prospects

9. A Blockbuster Trade’s Forgotten Piece

10. The Latest Pick

11. The John Ferguson Jr. Era

12. The Luke Schenn Pick

13. How Tyler Biggs Led to Morgan Rielly and William Nylander

14. Inside the 2016 Draft Lottery with Brendan Shanahan

15. Jack Han and the Crossroads between Drafting and Developing

16. The Pandemic Draft Kid

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Foreword by Steve Dangle

After a lifetime of following the draft from home, the 2014 NHL Draft in Philadelphia was the first one I ever attended in person. The two things I remember the most perfectly encapsulate what it feels like to be a Leafs fan.

The first was on Day 1. The Leafs had the eighth overall selection that year. After years of drafting for size, there was a real thirst for some skill. I, along with many Leafs fans, wanted either Nikolaj Ehlers or a young, flashy Swede by the name of William Nylander.

When the Vancouver Canucks picked Jake Virtanen at sixth overall, it meant the Leafs would be able to grab one of those two. When the Carolina Hurricanes selected Hadyn Fleury No. 7 it meant the Leafs could get whichever one of those two they wanted. I was elated! I was thrilled! I was…terrified. What if they go off the board? What if they draft some big guy who can’t skate?

The Leafs put my fears to bed when they picked Nylander eighth overall. From that moment on, everything would go perfectly smooth for Willy and the Leafs. At least, that’s what I hoped at the time. I wasn’t thinking about constant trade rumours and I certainly wasn’t thinking about a several-months-long contract holdout. Every draft is built on hope.

My second memory came on Day 2. If you’ve ever been to a draft, you know Day 2 is hangover day. What I mean by that is everybody is hungover. There are fewer people there than on Day 1 and the ones who are there are a lot quieter than they were the night before.

In front of the stage where more than 200 young players are drafted into the league each year, right where there was an NHL ice surface just weeks prior, the draft floor is littered with dozens of tables featuring NHL GMs, coaches, scouts, and a handful of executives’ kids running from table to table in a jersey that’s at least two sizes too large for them.

During the fourth round of the draft, I got to hear those iconic words in person: We have a trade to announce.

When that happens, the building goes silent. Fans from all over the league are in attendance and each and every one of them thinks their team is about to make either the smartest or dumbest deal in franchise history.

Then it was announced—the Toronto Maple Leafs have traded the 94th selection in the draft to the St. Louis Blues along with defenceman Carl Gunnarsson in exchange for defenceman Roman Polak.

After several moments of complete silence, one fan bellowed deep from their diaphragm, That’s a horrible trade!

Absolutely every person in the building heard it, including every NHL executive on the draft floor, which included then Leafs general manager Dave Nonis.

Despite being completely different players, Nylander and Polak are kind of alike. Nylander has been polarizing with Leafs fans for being all skill and no work while Polak was seen as all work but no skill. Meanwhile, Polak was a key presence for the rebuilding Buds while Nylander has been a key piece coming out of said rebuild. Fans thought Nylander was a great pick and fans thought Nylander was a terrible pick. Fans thought Polak was a terrible pickup and fans thought Polak was a great pickup.

The point is, after the excitement of the draft, after every scribe has scribbled their last thought about some teenaged hockey player who could be the next big thing or the next big bust, the players must write their own story.

In the mid-2000s, I was completely jacked for a certain Leafs goalie prospect. Every time I watched him, nobody could beat him. From the moment I first saw him play, I knew I was watching someone special. I knew I was watching the Leafs’ future in net.

That goalie was Tuukka Rask.

Your team can do everything right, scout every game, do every interview, run every background check, and have the player of their dreams fall to them in the draft, just to trade them away before they’ve even played their first game.

In November 2005, the Leafs traded tough guy Nathan Perrott to the Dallas Stars for a conditional sixth-round pick in 2006. The Leafs practically gave Perrott away. Who could have known the Leafs would use that pick on a man who would end up making an unlikely NHL All-Star appearance a decade later in 2016—none other than fan phenomenon Leo Komarov.

You just never know.

Even when you know, you never know. I went to the 2016 draft in Buffalo. The Leafs had the first overall pick for the first time since 1985. Even though there was a 99.99 percent chance the Leafs were drafting Auston Matthews first overall, my lungs refused to breathe a full breath of air until Leafs assistant general manager Mark Hunter announced the pick for the entire hockey world to hear. Only then would it be real.

With this book, Scott Wheeler will take you through the ins and outs, the ups and downs, as well as the known and unknown of the NHL draft with the Leafs. After reading, you’ll have new reasons to hope, new reasons to dread, and every reason to think the National Hockey League is simultaneously being run by the smartest people on the planet and a bunch of confused golden retrievers just trying their best.

Now, allow Scott to take you on a journey behind the scenes with the Toronto Maple Leafs at the NHL draft.

Steve Dangle is a hockey YouTuber and the host of The Steve Dangle Podcast, known for his videos about the Maple Leafs. He is the author of This Team Is Ruining My Life (But I Love Them): How I Became a Professional Hockey Fan.

Introduction

I don’t think I really understood what draft day meant to me until I was sitting on my couch in the East End of Toronto watching it play out in the NHL Network’s studios in Secaucus, New Jersey, in October 2020. There was something about it that just felt off. Namely, we were in the middle of a pandemic. As I settled in, turned on the TV, rested my phone next to me, and began opening folders of notes on my laptop to prepare to write—which, on draft day, is an exercise in trying to keep up—I wasn’t excited. The magic of the day, a day normally filled with it, felt distant.

In normal times, the week of the NHL draft is the biggest thrill of my year. I spend each preceding season travelling the hockey world to watch and learn about the sport’s best young players, telling their stories from rinks and hotel rooms, and dissecting the ins and outs of their games (the oddity of which is not lost on me). When I’m not on the road, my days fill with video work, local junior and minor-pro games, and phone calls—a lot of phone calls. I write hundreds of thousands of words on every new draft class (enough to fill several books like this one), each of them in anticipation of two days in June. A few of the kids’ stories always seem to leave a mark, too, so much so that by the time their big day arrives I’m anxious to see where they’ll land—or whether they’ll be picked at all.

Then it all culminates with the adrenaline rush of days that begin and end in the early morning in one of the NHL’s cities.

When I’m in it, I try not to take it for granted. I try to live in the moment. To latch on to the overwhelming relief that follows after I hit send on my final piece on that year’s draft class and alert my editor that it’s ready. To tell myself that my preparedness paid off. To be thankful that this is my job.

Other journalists will tell you about those same feelings when the team they cover wins the Stanley Cup and they were among those who got to put history into words. I’m lucky enough to experience those feelings at the end of every year with my thing. The draft is my Stanley Cup.

But on the first Tuesday of October in 2020, it felt at first duller. I was meant to be in Montreal, sitting in a makeshift media riser typically installed at the rear of the lower bowl opposite the stage, surrounded by my colleagues, typing through every spare minute and running across the stands to speak with sources in all of the others. NHL scouts and general managers were meant to be intersecting on the draft floor, a buzz of uneasy parents, nervous players, and reassuring agents surrounding them. This time, though, in place of staging and handshakes and photo shoots, there was just me and my TV, and the players and theirs.

Maybe a little to my surprise, the feeling when I first sat down on my couch to watch it all unfold from afar didn’t last. When the draft started, 217 kids still got to live out the best day of their young lives, and the many thousands of people who played a part in their stories got to share in that moment, in that success, with them. And it all mattered just the same to each of those involved in that orbit as it did to all those who’d been picked in the 57 NHL drafts before it.

While it may have felt different, there was still magic in the people and their stories. There was magic in the phone call I got the following morning from Michael Rossi, the father of Marco Rossi, who’d just become the ninth overall pick of the Minnesota Wild, thanking me for telling Marco’s story. (Two years earlier, I’d moved in with Marco and his billet family for a weeklong stay for an immersive story, shortly after he’d moved from Austria to Canada to pursue his dream with the Ottawa 67’s.) There was magic in the text I got from Mairri McConnell immediately after her son, Zayde Wisdom, whose against-all-odds story had left one of those indelible marks on me, was selected in the fourth round by the Philadelphia Flyers. I was just speaking about you. You are a big part of this. Thank you so much, read her message. Team Wisdom. I can assure you he will not let you down.

For Michael and Marco, and Mairri and Zayde, when the last names Rossi and Wisdom were called, there was no point of reference, no consideration for what another draft day could have looked like, because they hadn’t lived any other. There was just their day, their story, and that magic.

In the weeks after their day, I began working on this book with them in mind. My only goal for the book became this: find and tell more of those stories. The only requirement was that they each be about the Leafs in some way or another.

Part of that equation comes easy. I’m from here. I was born and raised in Aurora, one of the city’s suburbs. Before moving back to nearby Newmarket to be closer to family in the winter of 2022, I called Toronto home for five years. My son, Beaumont, was born in the city’s east end, at Michael Garron Hospital, in the midst of my authoring this book. He has Toronto on his birth certificate. I know this place and I grew up on its team. Before reporting on the draft was my thing, reporting on the Leafs was.

Part of that equation is harder to solve, though. Because there may not be a team in pro sports whose stories have been chronicled as thoroughly as the Leafs’ have. Because telling someone else’s story takes trust, and patience, and a craft that I will work my entire life trying to hone and will never perfect.

In the pages that follow, I’ve endeavoured to go behind the scenes with the people who are at the centre of the big stories—the picks, the trades, the moments—while discovering and telling new ones you’ve never heard along the way.

You’ll hear from David Gregory, Walt McKechnie, Bruce Boudreau, Randy Carlyle, Bob McGill, Peter Ihnacak, Wendel Clark, Gord Stellick, Scott Thornton, Steve Bancroft, Danny Flynn, Drake Berehowsky, Todd Warriner, Staffan Kronwall, John Ferguson Jr., Luke Schenn, Dave Poulin, Chris Bergeron, Rico Blasi, Brendan Shanahan, Jack Han, and Ryan and Todd Tverberg. And you’ll read about many more.

I hope you’ll find the same magic in these stories as I did writing them and as my subjects did living them.

1. Jim Gregory’s Draft Legacy

One of David Gregory’s earliest memories is of the day his dad, Jim, became the general manager of the Maple Leafs. It was the fall of 1969, and David was starting third grade at St. Richard Catholic School in Scarborough, Ontario, when his teacher pulled him aside to ask him about it—and, in turn, explain it to him.

More than five decades after that moment, hockey fans are most likely to recognize Jim’s name for his role as the man who for decades stepped up to podiums as the master of ceremony for Day 2 of the NHL Entry Draft.

But there is no history of the NHL draft, nor of the Leafs, without him. Jim’s legacy is the draft, and his hockey story started in Toronto before it ever existed.

The inaugural NHL draft (at first known as the NHL Amateur Draft) didn’t take place until 1963, nearly 60 years into the league’s life. For much of the first half of the NHL’s history to date, the league’s Original Six teams developed most of their would-be players themselves, often owning, operating, and sponsoring the junior hockey clubs that fed into the NHL.

In 1952, when a 17-year-old Jim moved from Dunville, Ontario, to Toronto to attend St. Michael’s College School, the Leafs sponsored two teams, the St. Michael’s Majors and the Toronto Marlborough Athletic Club, commonly known as the Marlboros, which both played in the Ontario Hockey Association (OHA).

Jim hoped to make the Majors’ Junior B team. When he was cut by the team, Father David Bauer, the school’s legendary teacher, hockey coach, and manager, prodded him to help out with the Junior A club as a trainer and stat keeper. Within a few years of his graduation from the school, Jim had become the Majors’ everyman, all but operating the team on his own on a $68-per-week salary. Father Bauer had become his biggest mentor in life. In 1959, Bauer leveraged his NHL connections to get Jim an interview with Leafs owner Stafford Smythe, an interview that led to his hiring as a part-time scout for the Leafs and summer employee at the Smythe family’s sand and gravel pits, roles he had to fill alongside his jobs with the Majors.

Two years later, in 1961, Jim was serving as general manager of the Majors within the Leafs’ farm system, and they won the Memorial Cup under his guidance.

A season after that Memorial Cup win, when the Majors withdrew from the OHA’s top junior league due to the impact its busy schedule was having on the athletes’ academic performance, Jim and many of his players were moved to the Toronto Neil McNeil High School Maroons for a single season in the Metro Junior A League. There, as head coach and general manager, Jim led the Maroons to a league championship and the finals of the J. Ross Robertson Cup (a trophy still handed out in today’s Ontario Hockey League). In 1963, when the Maroons were amalgamated with the Marlboros to stabilize the Leafs’ farm system, Jim was retained as head coach once more, guiding the Marlboros to his second Memorial Cup in his first season with his new team and a third in 1967 as the team’s general manager.

So by the time Jim was named Maple Leafs general manager for the 1968–69 season, he had already shaped the generation of hockey players he was taking over leadership of. Though he was just 33 years old and the league’s youngest general manager, Jim had helped develop future NHL players like Gerry Cheevers, Gary Smith, Pete Stemkowski, Ron Ellis, Gerry Meehan, and Mike Corrigan, among others, with the Majors, Maroons, and Marlboros.

Among Jim’s first orders of business when Smythe and co-owner Harold Ballard promoted him from assistant general manager to general manager to replace the fired Punch Imlach was to build the team’s first dedicated scouting department, hiring five full-time scouts. Throughout his tenure, he also paved the way for new avenues for NHL clubs to find and sign players, becoming one of the first general managers to recruit out of Europe when he signed Borje Salming and Inge Hammarstrom in 1973.

With his dad in charge of the team, David grew up inside Maple Leaf Gardens. On Saturdays, he would attend the morning skates, watch the early-afternoon Marlies game, and then hang around so that he could watch the Leafs game that night. Players and staff on the Marlies and Leafs became his heroes. In days spent at the rink, David watched as Jim shaped the way a modern hockey team should draft and build, milling about as his dad worked through problems with coaches King Clancy and John McLellan or lead scout Bob Davidson.

Whenever Jim wasn’t on the road with the team and David would return from school to their Scarborough home to find his dad on the phone in the kitchen, he would pull up a chair and listen to his dad talk to the team’s coach or opposing general managers.

By the time David was a high school student at Brebeuf College School, he’d also grown old enough to know that his dad wasn’t going to be general manager of the Leafs forever, and his fandom of the team changed, with each passing season taking on even more meaning than the last. Though Jim guided the team out of late 1960s struggles to eight playoff appearances in 10 years, drafting stars like Darryl Sittler and Lanny McDonald, by the late 1970s the Gregory family knew that he’d reached a point in his tenure where the success of the team was directly intertwined with their patriarch’s livelihood.

When the Leafs lost the first two games of their 1978 quarterfinal series against the Islanders, David vividly remembers his mother Rosalie’s constant anxiety. When the Leafs forced a Game 7 and the Gregorys gathered at their grandparents’ house to watch it as a family, Rosalie was so visibly on edge and nervous that David asked her if she was all right.

If the Leafs don’t win this series, I think your dad will get fired, she said.

Oh boy, David answered.

Though the Leafs won the series with a thrilling 2–1 overtime win in that Game 7 and Jim kept his job, his tenure only lasted one more season.

A year later, after a quarterfinal sweep by the Montreal Canadiens and while the family vacationed three hours north of the city at their cottage in Haliburton, Ontario, where Jim ran a hockey camp and David spent his summers on the ice, the phone call came.

On the other end of the line was NHL executive Harry Sinden, calling to tell Jim about a job opening.

I already have a job, and I’m going to stay with it, Jim replied.

You haven’t heard? Sinden answered. You’ve been fired.

Ballard had fired him, replacing him with Punch Imlach, his predecessor of a decade earlier. But Ballard hadn’t told him. Sinden had—at least, accidentally.

The job opening was apparently the directorship of the NHL