We have lost some prominent Maple Leafs coaches in recent years, with Roger Neilson and Pat Burns passing away at relatively young ages, and then Pat Quinn — someone we all thought would be around for many more years to enjoy life and hockey.
John Brophy lived a full life and packed everything he could into each day of his 83 years. His career as a coach for the Toronto Maple Leafs was really a mere blip (two and a half years from 1986 to 1988). It was comparable to the coaching careers of John McLellan, Floyd Smith, Joe Crozier, Mike Nykoluk, Tom Watt, Mike Murphy, Paul Maurice and Ron Wilson. Why, then, does Brophy’s name and persona evoke mostly fond memories of someone who you would expect had a longer and more successful run as the Maple Leafs’ coach than he actually did?
Brophy was a larger-than-life personality. He lived large and was a person who gave you no choice but to make an impact on your life — positive or negative. I never met a person who wanted to win more than he did. He would personally do anything to win. Anything! He struggled dealing with those who didn’t share that mindset or passion.
To quote the book Hockey, Heartaches and Hal that I co-authored with Jim O’Leary in 1990:
“Brophy wore the scars of a violent past but, at first, projected little of his renowned fierceness. A native of Antigonish, Nova Scotia, he retained a Maritime accent which, coupled with his staccato speaking style, make catching every word a challenge. He was friendly, witty and bluntly honest. Brophy had no tolerance for laziness, excuse-making or procrastination. He admired sincerity and despised phoniness, respected toughness and scored timidity.”
He couldn’t believe his good fortune to become the head coach of the Toronto Maple Leafs in 1986. It was beyond his wildest dreams. Brophy had toiled pretty well exclusively at the lower levels of minor hockey as both a player and a coach. Then in his mid 50s — he never liked to be honest about his age, as he acted and looked younger — he landed in the NHL shrine of hockey in Toronto. Brophy never complained once during his entire Leafs tenure and couldn’t understand or tolerate those that did.
Ultimately, this would be a part of his downfall during his NHL stint. Brophy couldn’t embrace the talented NHL player with what he perceived to be as “attitude.” It went against all that he was about and all that he believed in. His whole life had been coaching minor league players who would do anything to make it to the NHL, and that was all he understood. Hard workers were his kind of guys, and he had little use for the others.
Brophy was often misunderstood as a simple guy, when actually he was quite intelligent and very funny. He could spot a phony a mile away, both on and off the ice. He didn’t speak in sound bytes and when he spoke it was from the heart, which he wore on his sleeve. He spoke with passion, and his expletive-laden language was a credit to his ability to incorporate it into his vocabulary in an entertaining, intelligent and interesting manner rather than just random venting.
In the 1985 NHL Draft, the Leafs selected Wendel Clark first overall, with Craig Simpson going second to the Pittsburgh Penguins. Simpson had indicated before the draft that he didn’t want to be taken by the Maple Leafs because of concerns he had about the organizational structure.
By the time the Leafs played Pittsburgh in November 1988, it had long been forgotten — except by Brophy. In a game two years earlier, he had dispatched enforcer Jeff Brubaker to send a message to the then-19-year-old Simpson. It accomplished nothing in what was an 8-3 Leafs loss to the Penguins. So in 1988, he sent newly-acquired enforcer John Kordic after Simpson late in the game in a similar manner to issue the “payback.” Instead, it was a gong show as Kordic was given a game misconduct and never even got near Simpson. It was embarrassing by NHL standards, but it was all Brophy knew. It was his code.
Brophy had great success coaching the Leafs’ AHL affiliate, the St. Catharines Saints, before becoming the Leafs’ head coach. True to form, he had a tough-guy intimidation line, consisting of Kevin Maguire, Chris McRae and Val James. About 45 minutes before game time, Brophy would often tell James to take his shirt off and hang just outside the opposing team dressing room for a few minutes.
Built like a muscular superhero, all 20 opposing players experienced the psychological warfare with a vivid image about that battle they were about to face with Brophy’s St. Catharines team. The old Conn Smythe Leaf credo, “If you can’t beat them in the alley, you can’t beat them on the ice,” likely enjoyed its last successful run that year in St. Catharines as Brophy’s team did both, thus helping the coach to earn his dream job with the Toronto Maple Leafs.
It is from his minor league days where most of the guys who credit that experience with Brophy in being instrumental in them ultimately playing in the NHL. This was his finest work.
I was the general manager who had to fire John Brophy in December 1988. He took it in a professional and classy manner. Brophy still had a year and a half left on his coaching contract and Leafs owner Harold Ballard remained a big Brophy fan, so I asked him to stay on as a scout. Brophy was in my office a few days after being fired and talked about his new, somewhat vague, position. In true Brophy fashion he told me, “You tell me what to do. I’ll do whatever you want or say. If you want me to get the hell out of here and stay out of your way, I’ll do that… no problem.”
The next day, Ballard was extensively quoted in a Milt Dunnell column in the Toronto Star about Brophy’s new job. Ballard talked glowingly about how pleased he was to have the former coach stay in the organization. But the article also included an unexpected “caveat” from the penny-pinching Leafs owner when he added “of course Brophy won’t be getting the same kind of money as a scout that he did coaching.”
My phone rang soon after and it was Brophy.
“I might not be the smartest guy in the world but I am certainly not going to work for less money than my coaching contract entitles me to,” he said. “What should I do?”
I told him to drop by my office in a few hours. In the meantime, I composed a letter that I felt would be appropriate to come from Brophy’s heart and would resonate with Ballard. I talked about how much I (meaning Brophy) had appreciated coaching the Leafs and how great Ballard had treated him. I (again, as Brophy) added that at the end of the day I realize that I am a coach and not a scout and would appreciate being able to pursue other coaching opportunities.
Brophy loved and appreciated the context of the letter I had composed and typed up for him. He signed it enthusiastically and I put it with a few other papers on Ballard’s desk. About two hours later I was summoned by Ballard.
“Read this letter,” he told me. He often had me do that — to read aloud something he had already read so he could give it more thought, and get my opinion. So I read aloud to him the very letter I had composed on behalf of Brophy two hours earlier.
“Well that’s the end of Brophy here then, better let him find a coaching job somewhere else,” Ballard said. He summoned Don Crump, the company Treasurer, to deal with what we owed Brophy. Crump valued what Brophy was owed at $175,000 — not an insignificant amount in 1988. Crump added that we could present-value that amount (interest rates were high then) to a lesser amount.
Ballard quickly replied, “Bleep that bulls—, pay Broph the full amount he is owed.”
The next morning Brophy came to say goodbye to Ballard, myself and others and pick up his cheque. He was eternally grateful. He had lived the dream and appreciated every minute of it. He now also had a financial nest egg to start another chapter.
That other chapter was what he knew and did best. He went back to coaching in the minors — the East Coast Hockey League in particular. He also went back to having success. It suited him and his style both on and off the ice. The ECHL award to the Coach of the Year has been named the “John Brophy Award” for a number of years.
I had lunch with Brophy the summer after he left the Leafs. It was a great and fun lunch talking about the past and looking ahead as we enjoyed the gorgeous summer weather. As we left the restaurant he gave me a warm handshake, paused and said, “We had a lot of fun didn’t we Gordie?”
Yes, Broph, we certainly did. And it was an absolute pleasure knowing you.
