The Michigan Daily - michigandaily.com
March 28, 2011 - 3B
ST. MIKE'S
From Page 4B
Standing on Hill Street in front
of the Coliseum, and beside a
troupe of fellow Canucks, Watt
knew Ann Arbor already felt like
home.
But Watt had made a commit-
ment to North Dakota, and he
wanted to honor that obligation.
He drove through the night and
arrived in Grand Forks at six the
following morning.
"At nine o'clock I turned
around and said, 'There is no
way, this is so far from home,' "
Watt said. "So I told the coach,
'I can't do this. They offered me
a chance to go to Michigan, I'm
going to go to Michigan."'
That coach was Al Renfrew.
Just months later, Renfrew
replaced Heyliger at the helm
of the Wolverines - and Watt,
Renfrew's former North Dakota
recruit, was the first to greet him.
"I met him at the door, and
said, 'Coach, how are you? I'm
supposed to be in North Dakota,
aren't you too?'"
Michigan - having earned
six championship banners in the
NCAA Tournament's first nine
years of existence - was the
place to be.
And the Bathurst Brigade
fueled the nation's hockey pow-
erhouse.
Four years later, Watt finished
with his own All-American hon-
ors. Two hundred fifty miles
away from Davidson's office,
Watt finally knew he'd made the
right choice.
And just before he left Ann
Arbor, Watt agreed to show
another recruit around campus.
The young defenseman's name
was Tom Polanic - St. Mike's
must-have recruit at the time.
Former St. Mike's players
giving St. Mike's recruits tours
around the Michigan campus -
Renfrew had discovered how to
keep the pipeline alive.
When Red Berenson took
over as coach of Michigan
before the 1984 season, he inher-
ited a program that had captured
only one NCAA Tournament bid
since winning its last title exactly
two decades earlier.
Since the "decade of domi-
nance," the Michigan hockey
team lacked its usual luster.
What's more, the Wolverines
hadn't skated a product of St.
Mike's since Polonic and three
others played on the 1964 cham-
pionship team.
Berenson understood the
importance of bringing Cana-
dian talent back to Michigan and
unearthing the near-forgotten
pipeline between Toronto and
Ann Arbor.
Berenson knew the relation-
ship existed because the major-
ity of his teammates at Michigan
had come from Canada - and
the lion's share of them were St.
Mike's graduates.
"Everyone was from Canada
in those days," Berenson said.
"When I got here in the late 50s,
I think we had two Americans on
the team. One of my linemates, Al
Hinnegan, and our captain Bob
Watt were from St. Mike's."
In the 10 years after Michi-
gan coach Vic Heyliger's 1952
recruiting class, 14 players made
the crossover trek from St. Mike's
to Michigan. But in the second
half of Renfrew's tutelage, the
pipeline ran dry.
Berenson quickly revitalized
the relationship, heavily recruit-
ing Bryan Deasley, one of the
most highly touted Canadian for-
ward prospects of the mid-1980s.
After hearing Berenson's mis-
sion, Deasley was on board.
Over the next six years, Michi-
gan skated five Buzzer recruits,
including three-year captain
David Harlock.
Emblazoned along the
brick fagade of the arena is
St. Mike's mantra: TEACH ME
GOODNESS, DISCIPLINE AND
KNOWLEDGE.
Young men flood the halls
between class periods, each stu-
dent wearing dark khaki pants,
a white shirt, tie and dark blue
blazer. St. Mike's is no hockey
factory - the nation's only Cath-
olic all-male prep school churns
out the best hockey players and
students.
Bob Schiller, one of the pio-
neers of the pipeline in the early
1950s, recognized the demand
for academic excellence at both
St. Mike's and Michigan.
"It was a joint venture," said
Schiller, who majored in aero-
nautical engineering at Michi-
gan. "You knew you were going
to play hockey at a good level,
and you got to keep the education
going as well.
"The education at St. Mike's
was very rigid. They're Basilian
priests, and they were tough. But
because you played sports, you
didn't get any breaks."
And as if the caliber of stu-
dents the school graduated
wasn't enough, the Basilian
Fathers of St. Mike's have been
sure to keep hockey in check for
the past century.
In the mid-1960s, the hockey
program shut down altogeth-
er. It certainly was no burden
financially; on the contrary, the
Fathers had determined hockey
at St. Mike's had become so pro-
fessional that it was overshadow-
ing the academics.
And for a college hockey coach,
these players are simply a differ-
ent breed.
"Kids are different in every
era, but there's something differ-
ent about kids from St. Mike's,"
Berenson said. "They can relate
to what's going on at Michigan."
Without the school's dedica-
tion to education, the connection
with college hockey might never
have existed.
And without the feeder rela-
tionship with St. Mike's, Michi-
gan wouldn't be the program it
is today. Of the Wolverines' nine
national championship teams, all
but one title roster has fielded a
player from St. Mike's.
But the most striking con-
nection between Michigan
and St. Mike's is the one that
got away. More specifically, "The
Next One" that got away.
In 1989, 16-year-old Eric Lin-
dros, playing his first and only
year at St. Mike's, was already
considered one of the greatest
prospects ever. The London, Ont.
native's on-ice accolades quickly
earned him the nickname, "The
Next One," prophesied as the sec-
ond coming of "The Great One" -
Wayne Gretzky.
But in the 1989 OHL draft, Lin-
dros was used as a pawn by Phil
Esposito, then-part-owner of the
Sault. Ste. Marie Greyhounds.
Knowing that Lindros would
refuse to move 500 miles away
from home and drop his edu-
cation to join the Greyhounds,
Esposito selected Lindros as the
first overall pick.
The Sault Ste. Marie franchise
was financially desperate, and
the owners knew that select-
ing Lindros would skyrocket its
value. And it worked. Fortunately
for the Greyhounds, the OHL had
a rule that prohibited trading
first-round draft picks for a full
year after the draft.
The franchise sold, but it lost
Lindros's respect.
"The whole episode showed
A framed jersey hangs outisde the coach's office in the home locker room at St. Michael's College School Arena, commemorating the 2006 championship team.
me that hockey is a bottom-
line business, even at the junior
level," Lindros wrote on his per-
sonal website. "I felt like a piece
of meat."
Instead, Lindros looked to the
NCAA.
His family had already visited
Michigan a few months earlier,
but he was still more than a year
away from eligibility.
Berenson's team had complet-
ed its second-consecutive win-
ning season, but the coach knew
Lindros would be a landmark
addition, bringing the Wolver-
ines back to national prominence.
When Lindros first visited
before the OHL draft, Beren-
son was sure to make the right
impression.
Berenson called Lindros
into his office with an offer he
hoped the 6-foot-4 power for-
ward wouldn't be able to pass up.
Hanging in the coaches' room
when Lindros entered was a tra-
ditional white Michigan jersey,
with the trademark 'M' on the
chest. Berenson then revealed
the back of the sweater: LIN-
DROS 88.
Lindros had been No. 8 at St.
Mike's, but Berenson was making
a statement.
"I didn't let anyone have a high
number back then," Berenson
said. "But (Lindros) was big time,
and we knew that. Gretzky was
99 - I gave Lindros 88."
The offer was made and the
decision was left up to Lindros.
He chose Michigan.
In an effort to keep the star
recruit nearby, Berenson gave
Lindros' family the number of
Andy Weidenbach, the coach
of Detroit-based Compuware,
a team in the Tier-II hockey
league. For the fall semester, Lin-
dros tore up the ice just 40 min-
utes from Michigan.
But a rule change allowed
Sault Ste. Marie to trade Lindros
to the Oshawa Generals for three
players, two top draft choices,
$80,000 cash and two more play-
ers sent in the span of two years.
Experts estimated the price for
the 16-year-old ended up at over
a half-million dollars.
Lindros returned to Ontario,
never playing a game for Michi-
gan, but it was a give-and-take
with him. Michigan gave him No.
88, which he wore for the remain-
der of his career - a 13-year NHL
career after being drafted first
overall at age 18 by the Quebec
Nordiques in 1991.
And Lindros gave back in a dif-
ferent way.
In his short stint with Com-
puware, a Detroit-based Tier II
level program, Lindros made a
profound impact on a certain
teammate - defenseman Mark
Sakala.
Sakala, then a senior at River-
view High School, was a gifted
student, but was disappointed
with the inability to find an edu-
cational institution that coupled
his passion for hockey with rigor-
ous academics.
Enter Lindros, who, alongwith
his parents, convinced Sakala's
parents to head to Toronto and
spend a year at St. Mike's, play-
ing alongside Lindros's brother,
Brett Lindros.
Sakala took their advice,
enrolling at St. Mike's for a 13th
year of school.
A year later, Sakala had his
name on the duct and a Michigan
'M' on his sweater - Lindros had
neither.
championships, but because they
did it on both sides - academics
and athletics."
Dressed in a black sweater,
jeans and a silver wristwatch,
Sakala is the picture of success.
Wearing a national title ring,
and as a top-flight engineer for
Chrysler living in Birmingham,
Mich., Sakala understands that
the word 'champion' is a dichot-
omy.
"If you look at some of the
other schools that were strictly
hockey factories, they've come
and gone. They weren't consis-
tent, like Lake State, who was a
powerhouse when I was there.
Jeff Jackson was the coach, Doug
Weight came out of there, a lot
of good players. But they were
strictly a hockey factory, that's
what mattered most. And where
are they now?"
Sakala left the question unan-
swered.
He knows that sports don't
exist in a vacuum. This goes
beyond the rink.
Sakala knows that better than
anyone. The 'Big Two' at Chrys-
ler LLC - Chairman C. Robert
Kidder and Chief Executive Offi-
cer Sergio Marchionne - are
Michigan graduates.
And Marchionne, the 58-year-
old man dubbed the "savior of
Chrysler" after being charged
with rebuilding the bankrupted
corporation, learned his trade as
a student at St. Mike's.
"With St. Mike's, it's that enti-
ty - both academics and hockey
- thatpreparedme for Michigan,
prepared Sergio to be top dog at
Chrysler," Sakala says, setting his
drink down. "At Michigan, it's
the same thing."
St. Mike's and Michigan.
Captains on the ice, captains
of industry, Michigan's finest -
imported from St. Mike's.
Light flickers off the golden
band as Sakala leans back in his
chair, slowly turning the 1996
championship ring around his
finger.
The head of the ring bears a
raised edge encircling a deep
blue background, all centered on
a gold block 'M.'
Without a second thought,
he says a date he'll never forget:
March 30, 1996.
Sakala removes the ring,
showing the proof engraved on
the back.
March 30. It was the day
Berenson won his 300th game
and completed the turnaround -
recapturing Michigan's heyday
glory after a 32-year drought.
It was the day Brendan Mor-
rison knocked in a Bill Muckalt The Barn on
rebound to topple Colorado Col-
lege 3-2 in overtime and then
proclaimed, "This is for all the
(Michigan) guys who never had a
chance to win it."
And it was the day Sakala at
the end of the bench realized he
almost never had that chance
either. Without Eric Lindros, he
wouldn't have been there. With-
out St. Mike's, he wouldn't have
been there.
And without his engineering
degree necessitating a fifth year
- no chance.
When he reflects, Sakala
doesn't think about the cham-
pionship. He thinks about the
championship mentality that
carried him and his teammates
to where they are today. Three
doctors, a lawyer, a Princeton
law graduate, a Michigan profes-
sor, the assistant general man-
ager of the Pittsburgh Penguins
and three current NHLers - that 9
Wolverine team knew success.
It wasn't just a hockey team,
Sakala asserts, it was the perfect
combination of education and
athletics that makes Michigan
unique.
"They were winners there and
winners on the rink and in life, in
both realms," Sakala said, paus-
ing for a moment to sip his cof-
fee. "It's not so much that hockey
made them winners, I really feel
like it's the entity of the two."
And it's that blend that built
the pipeline between St. Mike's
and Michigan.
"It's the best of both worlds," 5
Sakala says. "Both of those
schools produce winners. Both
are championship programs not
because they won one or two
n Bathurst" has housed the Buzzers since the mid-1950s.
-UKU
DANGER NESBITT/FOR THE DAILY
A heating duct cut through the center of the home locker room, honoring the players who chose college hockey over the OHL.
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