In N.H.L., Obsession Has a Curve (Published 2006) (2024)

Hockey's legendary woodworker still breaks out the old blowtorch, not because he is working on any more sticks, but because he is building another armoire for the bedroom.

Yvan Cournoyer, a Hall of Fame player who was once captain of the Montreal Canadiens, has gone from goal scoring to furniture making. The career change could not have come about more naturally.

For 15 years in the National Hockey League, Cournoyer sawed, sanded and spray-painted his sticks before games. He even tried taking his blowtorch to the Montreal Forum. "They were afraid I would set the arena on fire," said Cournoyer, 62, now an amateur builder in Blainville, Québec. "So I went home to use it."

His legacy burns on. Today, every N.H.L. arena could pass for a workshop. Two hours before game time, stations are set up outside each locker room with all the necessary equipment — hacksaws, blowtorches, heat guns, belt sanders. As players shape their sticks, shortening shafts and curving blades, it is a wonder they do not injure themselves. Wood chips fly. Paint fumes fill the air. Everyone gets fired up.

Even though most modern sticks are made of graphite instead of wood, and manufacturers design the sticks to players' specifications, no one seems willing to put away the sandpaper and the glue. The ritual stick work is as therapeutic as a pregame massage, as predictable as the morning skate. Even a millionaire athlete apparently needs to get his hands dirty in manual labor.

"It's just like a ballplayer with his bat," said Scott Gomez, the Devils' center, whose team takes on Carolina tonight at Continental Arena one game from elimination in the second round of the playoffs. "Our sticks are important to us. Mine always has to feel light in my hands. When I'm struggling, maybe I will do something different with the length. I can tell if the stick feels an inch too long or an inch too short. Then I go back and work on it."

Defensem*n use longer sticks so it is easier to poke the puck away from opponents. Forwards prefer shorter sticks so they can control the puck in tight areas. If a forward is being stripped of the puck, he may grab a handsaw and cut a couple of inches off the top. If he is particularly desperate for a soft touch, he may rub some baby powder on the stick, as Wayne Gretzky used to do.

Teams employ equipment managers capable of performing such chores, but a player's relationship with his stick is personal. Gomez, for instance, needed years to build the perfect knob. The knob refers to the butt of the stick, which players layer with tape so they have a comfortable place to rest their top hand. Below the knob is grip tape for the bottom hand. On the grip tape players write names, numbers and motivational sayings.

"You can't have anybody else do this for you," Devils left wing Patrik Elias said. "It's your job, your instrument. Everybody has their own way they tape. Everybody has their own way they do the knob. Every style is different. Look at how colorful they are."

Elias pointed to a row of his teammates' sticks — some red, some orange, some green. But the most distinctive part of each stick is the blade, curved to suit its owner's game. A radical curve helps a player get more lift on his wrist shot. A flat blade keeps the puck low to the ice. Players settle on their ideal curve by heating the blade with a blowtorch, bending it under their feet, then sticking it into a bucket of ice.

After a player comes up with his signature mold, he sends it to the stick manufacturer to duplicate. Ideally, the next shipment suits him. But by the time the replacements arrive, a player has often changed his preferences. "If my stick is off even a little bit, I can't use it," Devils center Zach Parise said. "I have to send it back and try again."

Once players get the perfect curve, they sand the blade and decide whether to paint it or tape it. Most believe the tape helps steady the puck. Some apply ski wax as a second adhesive. While white tape is generally used for the knob, black tape is more popular for the blade because it camouflages the puck. If a stick is just right, a player will not even loan it to his linemate.

Joe Nieuwendyk of the Florida Panthers once stumbled upon one of his old sticks at an autograph convention when a fan asked him to sign it. Nieuwendyk checked out the stick, felt it in his hands and asked the fan if he could take it back and use it again. N.H.L. players tell Nieuwendyk's story, not to make fun of him, but to illustrate the value of a good stick.

Debates over the best brands dominate the locker room. Although most players use composite sticks, made of carbons like graphite, several composites include wood blades. Some composites are one-pieces (with the blade fused to the shaft) and some are two-pieces (with the blade inserted into the shaft.) Many players who use composite sticks tuck pieces of wood into the hollow shaft, their subtle nod to the past.

"I just like the feel of doing that," Devils right wing Grant Marshall said. "It makes the stick more flexible. It gives you a really whippy shaft."

For all the reasons that composite sticks have become the rage — they are relatively light, they are easy to custom design and they shoot the puck at greater speed — they come with one obvious drawback. They are not meant to be used as workshop experiments. Anyone who blowtorches a composite blade will likely break it during the game.

Players must decide for themselves how badly they want to preserve their woodworking history. If they keep a few wood blades around, they can still take turns on the blowtorch. If not, Cournoyer's favorite tool may eventually flicker out.