For fans young and old, there is one moment in Boston Bruins history that forever captures the imagination. It’s the instant captured in a statue outside the Boston Garden — Bobby Orr’s overtime goal, which ended a 29-year Stanley Cup drought for the Bruins.
But before Orr scored his famous goal, Derek Sanderson passed him the puck. And while Orr may have led the team, Sanderson dominated the spotlight. Sanderson’s brawls on the rink earned him the reputation for being as belligerent as he was talented. Sanderson left his mark on Boston, opening Newbury Street hotspot Daisy Buchanan’sand even hosted his own television show.
Philadelphia eventually stole Derek Sanderson away from Boston, paying him the highest contract ever offered to a professional athlete at the time. He should have been on top of the world — but instead he struggled with alcohol and drug abuse, even giving interviews while drunk.
At his lowest point, his friend Bobby Orr threw Sanderson an assist that saved his life: getting him to enter rehab. The story had come full circle — a young Sanderson had passed the game-winning puck to Orr, and in return, the great Bobby Orr made a save that would change Sanderson’s life.
Derek Sanderson joined Emily Rooney to discuss his book, “Crossing the Line: The Outrageous Story of a Hockey Original.”
http://video.wgbh.org/video/2325553935/
On being signed by the Bruins at 12…
[The Boston Bruins] paid my dad $100 for my professional rights because, remember, there was no draft then, and I think they gave Bobby $800 at 11. So the Bruins bought myself and Orr at that age, and they just give your dad a check…It’s kind of bragging rights, it doesn’t really mean much when you’re 11 or 12 years old. It encourages you — and later on you play junior in their franchise system, so you learn their system, and when you go pro you learn how to play the way Boston plays the game.
On playing hockey without helmets…
We respected each other…players today play with their heads down. We didn’t play with our heads down. Or if your head was down, your eyes were up — because I got you. But today, the cage [on the helmet] forces a kid to stick his head out over his pads to look down at the puck…so as you begin to pick up speed, as you come through center ice to get a pass, and you don’t pick up your head — [pounds his hands together]. The guy is waiting for you from 40 feet away. He knows he’s going to get you.
On playing on his junior team with Bobby Orr…
I met Bobby when he was 15. He was, I think, 5’9” and 129 pounds. But he was like lightning in a bottle at that age.
On being, at one point, the highest paid athlete in the world…
You get entourages and people, and you go, and you party. I was only a little guy — I only had two or three friends, but that costs money. And then I never paid attention to my investments because I thought it would never end. You remember draft beer in those days was a nickel — 5 cents. Cigarettes were 35 cents a carton … you don’t think 2.5 million is ever going to go anywhere.
But, then again, tax rate I think was 71, 70 percent. And interest rate was 14 or 17 percent. So, life’s different in 1968 than it is today.
On starting to drink…
When I turned pro, I was in [a bar called Campbell’s] in London, Ontario, where we had training camp, and Gerry Cheevers said to me, “Hey, kid — you want a beer?” When the veterans ask you, you want to belong, and you don’t even know if you’re going to make it, but your teammates usually know first. And I said, “No, I don’t drink.”
And he said, “Wow, you don’t drink? You’ll never make it. You won’t be able to handle the pressure.” [Phil] Esposito was sitting beside him and said, “Derek, if you don’t drink, don’t start. Handle your own pressure; make your own pressure.”
I had that choice, and every kid — 14, 12, 19, 20, whatever age — you have that choice.
On Bobby Orr saving his life…
Bobby Orr is one of those people in your life that has tremendous character — once a friend, always a friend. He’s done it for many people; he hasn’t done it for just me. There’s a lot of people that Bobby has helped.
I knew that in the end, no matter what happened, I could always go home to my mother and father — tail between my legs, boy got beat — and Bobby. And I called Bobby.
On his life philosophy…
It’s about choices that we all have. Your gut only gives you two: yes or no. That’s all you get. So you pick a way, and then [life] forks again, and you pick another yes or no. And life takes you where you go.
It’s just a series of decisions that you make, on your own, by yourself. No pressure — nobody put a gun to your head and said, “do this or that.”
