Death takes former Portland Buckaroo and NHL coach Tom McVie, a hockey icon

McVie's association with professional hockey lasted decades

As a youngster growing up in Portland, we didn’t have the Trail Blazers to root for. The first professional team to hit town was the Portland Buckaroos — who arrived in 1960. That team won a Western Hockey League championship in its first season and never stopped winning after that.

It was an exciting time in Portland. The franchise was run by legendary local promoter Harry Glickman, the same man who later was able to convince the NBA it needed a team in Portland. The Buckaroos played in the brand, spanking new Memorial Coliseum — the Glass Palace, we called it then.

Coach Hal Laycoe and his players became local heroes and many of them would make their home here until this day. One of my favorites was always Tommy McVie, a winger who was a big goal scorer.

I was lucky. McVie would become a great friend over the years, whom I had the good fortune to share many lunches with at his favorite place, the Cadillac Cafe, not far from where he played for the Bucks.

Word came Monday that McVie passed away Sunday night in a local hospice at the age of 89. He had spent most of that life in hockey, playing in just about every minor league you could name and coaching all over the country, including stints in the NHL and WHA.

He was one of the best damn people I knew — a hilarious public speaker, loyal friend and all-around good guy to everyone he met. He campaigned so hard to get his Buckaroo teammate and long-time friend Connie Madigan into the Oregon Sports Hall of Fame and accomplished it prior to Madigan’s death.

He lived In Northeast Portland for many years before moving across the river to Vancouver. One of his sons was a close friend of Don Lovell, owner of The Barbers chain of hair-cutting emporiums. Don and his wife Alison cared so much for McVie and helped him through his final years.

It’s difficult capturing his career because his life was so full — of hockey and friends. He arrived in Portland in 1961 from the rival Seattle Totems and scored a whopping 45 goals. Off the ice, he was a bit of a handful — a wise-cracking, have-another-beer kind of guy. Too much so, in some cases, he told me.

After getting on Laycoe’s nerves a little too often, he was traded and ended up playing for WHL teams in Los Angeles, Phoenix and then Seattle again. His playing career ended in 1972.

He wanted to coach but said that he was told the stories of his drinking were going to keep him out of that job pool. So he flat-out quit — never to drink again. He then set off on a coaching journey through the minor leagues, to prove that a guy who never played in the NHL could coach there.

In 1975 he was named head coach of the Washington Capitals, a bad team he could never steer into the playoffs in four seasons. From there he went to Winnipeg, where he led the Jets to an Avco Cup, the trophy for winning the WHA title. The next season that team moved into the NHL and he held the job for two more seasons.

After that it was back to the minors for a decade in the American Hockey League before landing with the New Jersey Devils as head coach. Then later he found what became a long association with the Boston Bruins. He was an assistant coach in Boston before becoming an NHL scout with the team for 16 years, a familiar and popular figure in the press boxes all over the NHL.

After that, the Bruins retained him as an advisor and “brand ambassador” for many years. He finally saw his name etched on the Stanley Cup in 2011, a proud moment. He spoke glowingly about Boston President Cam Neely, the former Winterhawk who was his boss with the Bruins.

“A great hockey guy,” Tom told me.

I was so lucky to be included in his large circle of friends. He was a popular figure in the league for his knowledge of the sport and relentless good humor. He was just one of those special people with a heart as big as the sport he loved.

He was signed to play pro hockey out of the mining town of Trail, B.C., at a young age and he always told the story of a scout knocking on his family’s door during dinner and his mother listening to the man trying to sign young Tommy to a contract.

“Mrs. McVie, we would like to sign Tommy for $500,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but we don’t have $500.”

Once his mom was convinced that the team would supply the money, Tom McVie signed and began a lifetime career in hockey.

That sport got its money’s worth many times over. He gave much more than he ever got. Rest in peace.