Perreault And His Lucky Ring by Walt Marlow The Hockey Spectator March 9, 1973
A ring with the image of the Madonna on it is among Robert Perreault's most prized possessions. He wears it only in times of crisis, like when he's summoned from retirement to play goal for the Los Angeles Sharks.
An aging goaltender who, at 42, has seen more pucks than he cared to remember, Perreault, the chief scout of the Sharks, came off the bench here the other night to backstop a 4-2 victory that snapped a four-game home-ice losing string.
Coach Terry Slater called in his Montreal-based scout a month ago when Shark goaltending took on an unmistakably porous look. No one really believed he would use the veteran of 23 hockey winters until he started dressing as George Gardner's backup February 15th in Boston.
That was the night Russ Gillow lost most of his equipment to Boston Arena thieves, who almost left the Sharks as a team skating in their underwear. It turned out to be their only failure of an otherwise highly successful road swing (2-1-1) and when they came home to face Les Nordiques de Quebec prospects were bright for a second-place finish in the WHA's crowded West.
But J.-C. Tremblay and Company, winless in eight, made the most of 21 shots for a 5-3 decision that extended the Shark's winless miseries at home to four in a row. Twenty-four hours later, Slater determined that the time had come to unveil Perreault, cousin of another Perreault named Gil.
"He's a clutch goaltender," said Slater. "We needed this one and this seemed as good a time as any to find out if Perreault still had it."
Fifty-two seconds into the game, one had visions of Slater having been the architect of a colossal blunder. Yves Bergeron fired the puck between his legs and Slater's heartbeat doubled. So did Perreault's.
But he kissed the ring, and act he was to repeat several times for the balance of the afternoon, and didn't give up another goal until the final two minutes of play. Perreault had been given the ring, blessed by the Pope, in 1948 by a friend. Immediately after the game, it was locked in the office safe.
"I only wear it when I play," he smiled. "I guess I'll play until my luck runs out."
While he handled a mere 17 shots, no one will deny his performance was creditable. Unmasked, his hair thinning, he wandered from the net with abandon to challenge Quebec shooters. His flamboyance excited the patrons sympathetic to a man who's seen better goaltending years but who still may have just enough of the old moxie. The Perreault of 10 years ago would have been a star today in the National League.