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An opponent's view of Richard's relentlessness could be harrowing. "When he came flying toward you, "said Hall of Fame goalie Glenn Hall, "his eyes were all lit up, flashing and gleaming like a pinball machine." Wally Stanowski, a former Toronto player, went further. "He had that fiery look all the time," said Stanowski, "I once heard it described as having the look of an escaped mental patient. I thought that was a good description." Late in his career, the Rocket suffered an Achilles tendon injury which kept him inactive for a long time, and there was some fear that his career might be ended. When he came back to play it was in the lair of Montreal's arch-enemy, Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto. Richard didn't start the game, but played with the second line. When he jumped over the boards to come on the ice for the first time, there was a puck loose near the Leafs' blue line. He pounced upon it, like a lion on a young zebra. He launched his shot immediately, and it flew past Johnny Bower, another Hall of Fame goalie. The Toronto fans, most of whom hated him, exploded in a rueful salute. Sports Illustrated called Richard the toughest NHL player to ever lace on skates. In a game at the old Boston Garden near the end of the 1955 season, Richard's competitive fury, which he managed to channel most of the time, became completely un-channeled. It started when the high stick of Bruin defenseman Hal Laycoe cut him and it drew blood. Laycoe was a former teammate of the Rocket's, but that didn't stop Richard from attacking him in revenge, hitting him across the shoulders and face with his stick. Finally, as the fight seemed to subside, lineman Cliff Thompson moved in to separate the combatants and return order to the game, which is part of a linesman's job. Richard did not wish to be soothed, and when Thompson tried to move him away from Laycoe, he punched the linesman twice in the face, knocking him unconscious. As soon as the game ended, the referee filed a report to the NHL commissioner, Clarence Campbell, since attacking an official in hockey is just as serious as it is in any other sport. After digesting the report and pondering his options for two days, Campbell issued his decision: Richard would be suspended, not just for the last three games of the regular season, but for the entire Stanley Cup playoffs. The people of the city of Montreal and the province of Quebec itself were thunderstruck. The Canadiens and Detroit were tied for first place in the league and were to meet that night in the Montreal Forum. The fan reaction was so immediate and furious in the city that the police commissioner warned Campbell, whose office and that of the league were located in Montreal, that it would be inadvisable for him to attend the game as was his usual custom. Public attitudes were so poisonous that his staff begged him not to even think about entering the Forum. Hours before the opening face-off, crowds, most of whom did not have tickets, gathered on St. Catharines St. and adjoining streets around the forum, and they were in a surly mood. At the Montreal Star, the editor, sensing that the usual number of reporters staffing a Canadiens game would not be sufficient to cover what might happen, assigned a young sports writer named Red Fisher to rush to the Forum, not to cover any aspect of the game, but to handle whatever other newsworthy event might occur. Fisher, who was to become a journalistic legend in Montreal, had never before covered anything at the Forum, but as soon as he arrived he sensed that what was growing among the crowds, both inside and outside the building, was a possible riot. He was correct. This was 12 years before Gen. Charles DeGaulle, the greatest Frenchman of the 20th Century, visited French Canada and finished his emotional speech with the words "Long Live Free Quebec!" Among those listening intently to DeGaulle was Rene Levesque, who would found the Quebec Separatist Movement that same year.
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