Joe Bowen started his Maple Leafs career with a 'f*** you'

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From a Walt Poddubny goal at old Chicago Stadium when it seemed his Maple Leafs’ broadcast debut could be doomed, Joe Bowen will have put in 44 years behind the microphone when he retires next year.

He’s seen it all with this team, except a Stanley Cup to date, and those memories are sure to be  part of a wonderful final season, even if there’s no farewell tour after cost-conscious  Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment saw fit to ground him and sharp witted colour man Jim Ralph in recent years.

With the 74-year-old Bowen announcing Friday that the 2025-26 season will be his last, some of our favourite stories from the Hall of Fame broadcaster in many interviews with the Toronto Sun:

CAREER LIMITING START 

When Len Bramson, head of Telemedia Sports, called Bowen in Halifax in September of 1982, with an offer to move up from the Nova Scotia Voyageurs and call the Leafs, Bowen thought it was a prank.

He’d had heard nothing for weeks after sending in his audition tape from the AHL and the OHL Sudbury Wolves and had just put down a mortgage on a new house in anticipation of another season down east. Convinced it was a joke by his friend, overnight host Allan Davis at CJCL, the flagship Leaf station, Bowen just bellowed “F- you,” into the receiver “I don’t need you being an a-hole.”

There was silence and then Bramson politely repeated himself, with Bowen slowly realizing this call was for real.

“I’m like Jackie Gleason, ‘humana, humana,’ trying to figure out how to apologize. My dream job and I’d just told the guy to screw off. I’d have slit my wrists if there was anything sharp around.”

Bramson, trying to stifle his laughter, said he’d call back in 10 minutes to let Bowen compose himself. A much different chat followed, Bramson telling him the energy he unleashed on the phone was exactly what the network wanted in its new play-by-play man.

THE GOLDEN GONDOLA  

Bowen was already familiar with Maple Leaf Gardens.

Bill Plaunt, who ran Sudbury’s TV and radio station, was part-owner of the junior team and a good friend of the Bowen’s father, local doctor Joe Sr. He gave the University of Windsor grad a shot with the Sudbury Wolves, bringing him to Foster Hewitt’s famous gondola five storeys above the ice.

“The catwalk out there was as scary as they say. Once you got in the gondola, it was so small, with two cane-back chairs, many phone wires to plug in and only about three feet for two people to sit. But man, what a view!”

Bowen is quietly proud he was able to pass Hewitt’s record of 40-plus years on the job.

A NOT-SO-PERFECT 10 

Bowen had earlier memories of Carlton Street.

“I’m told my mother (Edith) sat me by the radio to hear Bill Barilko’s (1951) overtime goal. It was my father who was always saying ‘Holy Mackinaw’ around the house (rather than swear), a phrase Bowen would later weave into broadcasts to describe exciting plays.

Joe Sr., died young, so it was Edith who brought him to his first Leaf game in 1965, guests of Jimmy Hines, a friend of fellow Northern Ontarian George Armstrong.

“First time walking through the entrance, I was just stunned by the colours of the teams and how big it was,” Bowen said. “After the game, I got to come into the room and shook hands with Johnny Bower and Terry Sawchuk (Bowen was a goalie, too). I couldn’t talk.”

On Feb. 7, 1976, Bowen found himself witnessing history. At least he thinks so.

He and a few young high-spirited friends from the Sudbury station were given tickets to a Leaf – Bruins game and a weekend in Toronto as a reward for hard work and were quite over-served by the time Darryl Sittler was on his way to an NHL-record 10 point night.

When Sittler’s sixth goal went in, having already thrown his cap on the ice, one of Bowen’s buddies tried to separate the cushion from a gold seat and toss it over the glass. He was ejected from the rink and missed the end of the game.

When he later met Sittler on the job, Bowen said “I heard you had a hell of a game, but I don’t remember much of it.”

FIRST LEAF BROADCAST 

Bowen was fretting in a Chicago trying to get to work for his debut.

A rough looking driver took his time to the Stadium and while an anxious Bowen wanted to get out and walk, the South Side was indeed ‘the baddest part of town’ as Jim Croce sang. Bowen had to sit tight and when he finally arrived, the engineer could not connect his line to the station.

“It cleared up just as the puck dropped. I was on my way.”

Toronto was down 3-0 before Poddubny’s goal allowed him to let loose a Leafs goal call. They rallied for a 3-3 tie and Bowen was now part of the roller-coaster ’80s. Harold Ballard created a crisis a day, the unpopular Gerry McNamara and a green Gord Stellick ran the team, while a parade of coaches tried to tame a wayward roster of prospects and veterans under the Toronto media spotlight.

WHAT A RIDE 

Bowen saw them all; Borje Salming, Wendel Clark, Rick Vaive, John Kordic, Doug Gilmour, Mats Sundin and Auston Matthews. There were the coaches Mike Nykoluk, Dan Maloney  John Brophy, Pat Burns, Pat Quinn up to Craig Berube.

Bowen bellowed through the fight-filled (Chuck) Norris Division games, late blown leads and 10-goal losses. He froze in mid-winter walks through Minneapolis, dodged Blues GM Ron Caron’s chair throwing in the box and was conscripted to carry Ballard’s girlfriend’s luggage. In between, there were plenty of late nights, early flights and trips where Leafs were hurt, traded, arrested or disappeared.

Likewise, there was rarely a dull moment in the booth after Bill Watters became his first regular colour man in 1985. Despite the outspoken agent representing several Leafs, Ballard let him join Bowen in a lively tandem that made all the losing a bit more bearable. The best of times for Bowen finally arrived seven years later, quite unexpectedly.

“On Boxing Day, 1991 in Pittsburgh, Kevin Maguire scored our first goal, then Mario Lemieux and company get the next 12. We’re looking at the schedule trying to find one game we’d win the rest of the year. Then, Jan. 2, the Doug Gilmour trade is made. There was never a chance under Harold, but in ’92-93, the city went crazy.”

THE TELEVISION YEARS 

Bowen’s face became as well known as the players as he made a smooth transition to the screen for regional games. He and the brilliantly funny and observant Harry Neale were perfect partners.

In ‘93 at Joe Louis Arena in Detroit, it was Bowen who caught the subtle Game 7 overtime tip of Nikolai Borschevsky on Bob Rouse’s shot that launched the Leafs on six series the next two seasons.

But the Rogers – Bell purchase of the Leafs saw the communications giants change up their TV lineup and Bowen joined Ralph as an exclusive radio tandem. Listeners  were outraged, many to this day putting the radio on over the TV feed. Bowen was upset, too, but learned to live with the new arrangement.

“If you’re still listening at home, either your TV set is busted or you’re a big fan of the guy behind the mic. But as we’ve gone to a mobile society, the car radio is where you listen to most sports. We still have a very viable medium with so many people travelling. Being the hockey mecca, there is a fan base coming and going from our games or watching and driving their kids.

“There is no traffic anymore, just traffic jams. That’s where we hear the feedback: ‘Hey, I was listening to you coming back from little Jamie’s game the other night.’ So there is still a big connect with the audience.”

Bowen will also get emails from fans around the world who are streaming the game.

“They’ll say: ‘Auch lad, ’tis 3 a.m., in Scotland but we’re listening to ye’,” Bowen imitated in a brogue. “And they always add: ‘Go Leafs Go.’

AIR WAVES 

Bowen was at a Gardens’ morning skate one day when former NHL official Ron Asselstine told him some special guests wanted to meet him.

“Ron was involved with children’s Make A Wish and brought in this particular young boy. In comes a group of Amish with hats, bonnets and long black coats. I’m thinking ‘do they have a horse parked out on Church St.’? It turned out they only knew the Leafs through our broadcasts, because radios had recently been permitted in their community. The young man so excited to meet Bill and I. Ron told me later he’d offered to have them all meet Don Cherry, but they didn’t know who he was.

“We found out a few months later the young man had passed away. But it was so special with his whole family there.

“You can’t get away from the fact that you’re speaking to some people; elderly, sick or shut-ins, who never in their wildest dreams will get to an NHL game. We used to get actual letters from older people and still get requests to wish others well who are very sick. Those are always tough to do, but it’s still gratifying that we’re asked.”

BANNER EVENING 

Many years ago, the Leafs were at the Bell Centre the night Jean Beliveau’s banner was raised. Before it went to the rafters, Beliveau and wife Elise signed it to mark their 50th wedding anniversary.

Bowen and Ralph, who had each been through some divorces, were describing the Beliveau banner and the touching signatures of the couple as it slowly went up amid wild cheering.

“Well Joe,” Ralph deadpanned on air. “That’s one banner they’ll never raise for us.”

HITTING THE HIGH NOTES 

One night in Minneapolis, Bowen was at dinner with management and Brophy, a nice Italian restaurant where the waiters sang arias from famous operas.

But the hyper Brophy wanted to talk hockey, namely who would win the fight between the McRae brothers the next night, Basil of the North Stars and Chris of the Leafs. Bowen insisted the brothers would not drop the gloves, but Brophy, temper rising, said he’d order Chris to fight if necessary. The argument got to the yelling stage, with the waiters trying to sing even louder to be heard above the din.

CZECH YOUR MICROPHONE 

Bowen and Watters were upset watching the team’s slide in the 1980s, but always had the good sense to discuss it at the bar, not on air. Until one night in Boston.

“We’re getting beaten 5-0,” Bowen recalled, “and there’s a line of Miroslav Ihnacak, Miroslav Frycer and Peter Ihnacak, all attempting to cycle the puck around the centre-ice dot because they don’t want to go near the boards.

“We go to break, with a very disinterested sound engineer who was reading The New York Times during the game. He doesn’t turn our mics down. I know whenever my headset is still on to never say anything bad. But Bill turns to me and says: ‘Bonesie,, if we don’t get rid of these (bleeping) Czechs, we’re going nowhere’. We get back to our hotel – no cellphones back then – and the red message light is flashing in our room.”

Watters’ partner Rick Curran, who’d been coming back from a junior game, nearly drove off the highway when he heard Watters’ rant go unfiltered.

“We both figure we’re fired,” Bowen said. “But we get no phone call that night. We get to the rink for the next game, still nothing. We reasoned either most people had turned off the radio at 5-0 or our bosses must have thought Wilbur was right.”

CUP TO COME? 

As Bowen said in Friday’s post announcing it will be his last year, the Cup has remained elusive.

“Leafs fans are hardy, they’re loyal to a fault at times I suppose,” he told the Sun. “But all we have to do is look at the Chicago Cubs, not one generation, but three since 1908. You always had the rallying cry — wait ’til next year. The joy is sticking with it and ultimately (having a parade).

“Ì can’t go anywhere now without people saying, ‘they’ve turned the corner, they’re really exciting to watch’. I try and temper it, but I go to any rink, to a men’s hockey dressing room and the topic’s always there — last night’s Leafs game.”

Lhornby@postmedia.com

X: @sunhornby