Remembering Paul Morris: 1938–2025

TORONTO (Feb. 11) — It’s a moment I’ll never forget. Even if occurring nearly 54 years ago. Maple Leaf Gardens was filled to near–capacity for a game between the Leafs and Montreal Canadiens alumni (or “oldtimers”, as they were known back then). It was Feb. 19, 1971, a Friday night. My cousin, Graham Tobe, and I sat in Sec. 40 of the north–mezzanine Blues, a pie–shaped enclave in the extreme northwest corner of the arena. Directly above us, to our right, was a solitary window on a giant, bare wall, from which public–address announcer Paul Morris viewed the action below. On this night, the window was open (Morris could close it with a sliding, glass partition). As such, we began a brief conversation with the man whose baritone voice had become infinitely familiar… but whose face we’d never seen. Until then. Seconds into the confab, Morris invited us into the sound booth from which he had viewed every Maple Leafs home game, beginning in 1964–65. Graham and I could hardly believe our fortune.

Paul directed us to a back stairwell that led to a small door. We found it and knocked, whereupon a lady asked us in. Not 15 feet away, on the inner part of the wall, sat Morris, motioning us over with a friendly smile. For a kid growing up in Toronto, this was manna from heaven. We shook hands with Morris, who gave us a Coles Notes explanation of the control panel in front of him. Protruding from the panel was an V–shaped microphone into which Morris would speak his announcements of goals, assists and penalties. Just then, a telephone rang next to Morris. It was timekeeper Joe Lamantia, seated at ice level between the penalty benches, relaying a call from referee Red Storey. Paul quickly jotted down the information, then pressed a button to his left. He leaned into the microphone and said “Montreal penalty to number nine, Maurice Richard… two minutes for fuddle–duddle… the time 13:45.”

The entire Gardens burst into laughter. Just three days earlier, John Lundrigan, a Progressive Conservative member of parliament representing Gander, Nfld., had accused Liberal prime minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau of mouthing the words “fuck off” toward him in the House of Commons. It created an instant media firestorm and thrust Trudeau into defense mode, afterward, while encountering reporters. When queried whether the allegation from Lundrigan was accurate, Trudeau famously responded “What is the nature of your thoughts, gentlemen, when you say ‘fuddle–duddle’ or something like that? God, you guys!” When Red Storey sent off Rocket Richard in the first period of the alumni game, the ersatz “infraction” struck a predictable chord. It brought down the house.

 
FROM A VIDEO I SHOT DURING THE FINAL NHL GAME AT MAPLE LEAF GARDENS — FEB. 13, 1999 MAPLE LEAFS vs. CHICAGO. IT SHOWS (AT LEFT) THE WINDOW ON THE NORTHWEST WALL FROM WHICH PAUL MORRIS VIEWED THE ACTION… AND THE PROXIMITY TO SPECTATORS IN SEC. 40 OF THE NORTH MEZZANINE BLUES (FROM WHERE MY COUSIN GRAHAM AND I STRUCK UP THAT CONVERSATION IN 1971). THE NEARER IMAGE, AT RIGHT, WAS MORRIS CLOSING OUT THE GARDENS WITH “LAST MINUTE OF PLAY IN THE THIRD PERIOD.” THE BLACKHAWKS ROUTED THE LEAFS, 6–2.

It’s been widely written and circulated that Morris began his Leafs public–address chores in 1961. When, in fact, it was 1964. A video available on YouTube from the Chicago at Toronto game of Dec. 7, 1963 clearly features Red Barber calling goals and penalties. The game has long–been notorious for a wild brawl that erupted between the clubs in the third period. Barber followed with the long list of infractions. He had been, in 1931, the original P.A. voice of the Gardens. When Barber butchered the name of Canadian prime minister Lester B. Pearson (saying “Lester Beer Person”), the jig was up. So was the gig. Morris took over and somehow did not miss a Leafs home game for the remaining 35 years of the building. He also announced home games of the junior Toronto Marlboros, who occupied the Gardens on most Sunday afternoons in the 1960’s and 70’s. I remember attending Marlboro games with Dad or a friend the day following the Saturday night Leafs match we had watched on TV. It was always a bit surreal. When I was a kid, CFTO Channel 9 televised Sunday afternoon Marlboro games (with Tim Ryan, then Johnny Esaw, calling the play). The station’s founder, John Bassett Sr., was one–third owner of the Maple Leafs (with Stafford Smythe and Harold Ballard). Beginning in October 1966, after installation of the bright TV lights above the west side of the arena bowl, the Marlboros would play “in living color” on Sunday afternoons.

Morris, an electrician by trade, is famously credited (along with sidekick Doug Wood) for building and installing the first digital scoreclock at the Gardens; quite an innovation at the time. It was garishly sponsored by DOMINION, a chain of supermarkets in Canada, which splashed its logo and name atop all four sides of the timer. But, what an improvement over the original analog device: an actual clock, with big and small “hands”, activated at the start of each period. Barber would have to round off the nearest second to announce a scoring play or penalty. The DOMINION scoreboard counted down from 20 minutes; more convenient for the fans, but prompting Morris to quickly compute the time of an announcement. For example, in the magazine photo, below, the clock was stopped at 1:31 of the third period. The digital board debuted for the 1966–67 season, along with the bank of TV lights and the balconies hanging from the north and south walls of the arena (known as the Mezzanine Blues). Previously, there had been seven rows of seats ominously located above the glass behind each net (how no one was killed by a deflected puck remains a miracle). The mezzanines were built on top and accessed by near–vertical stairs.


For the 1974–75 season, when ice–level Reds became Golds and the second level of seats turned from Blues to Reds, the original (and lower) end seats also became Reds. Therefore, costing more per ticket than the Mezzanie Blues above them (Ballard, though a scoundrel, was nobody’s fool). The digital clock built by Morris and Wood hovered during some of the greatest moments in Maple Leafs history. Including, the 1967 Stanley Cup triumph and the remarkable individual performances of Darryl Sittler (a record 10 points in one game against Boston; then, a record–tying five–goal playoff game against Philadelphia; both in 1976) and Ian Turnbull (five goals against Detroit on Feb. 2, 1977, still a single–game mark for defensemen). The DOMINION scoreclock was in place for Game 2 of the iconic Canada–Russia hockey summit (Sep. 4, 1972) and during five games of the inaugural Canada Cup tournament in September 1976 (which Sittler won with an overtime goal at the Montreal Forum). It loomed large on Oct. 29, 1966 when Bobby Orr played his first NHL game in Toronto… and Nov. 21, 1979 when Wayne Gretzky amassed four points in his Toronto NHL debut, a 4–4 tie between the Leafs and Edmonton Oilers.

I would occasionally, after 1971, visit Morris in his corner control booth — almost always with a wide–eyed friend or family member. Never was Paul too busy or grumpy to make us feel welcomed. He wasn’t the greatest at pronouncing words and names that were unfamiliar. Prior to a concert appearance by the Australian rock group INXS (pronounced “In–Excess”), Paul encouraged patrons (during an intermission announcement) to “get your tickets now for the rock group ‘inks’ — as it was phonetically spelled. Another time, the American heavy metal band, Metallica (pronounced “Meh–tal–icka”), was coming to the Gardens. Paul announced the group as “Meh–ta–leek–a.” For some reason, he couldn’t properly enunciate hockey names that began with a soft ‘G’, such as Rod Gilbert (New York) or Gilbert Perreault (Buffalo). Each was pronounced with a hard ‘G’ (“Gill–bear”). Paul, nonetheless, was an icon of Maple Leaf Gardens, always preferring to remain in the shadows, yet never uncooperative when called for an interview. It was, therefore, quite heart–warming when Ron MacLean brought Morris to center–ice after the final NHL game at the Gardens (Feb. 13, 1999)… and at the start of a wonderful closing ceremony in which all living Leafs alumni were marched out and introduced. MacLean, ever mindful of hockey history, emceed the ceremony and allowed Morris to take a well-earned bow before a national TV audience (CBC images, below).

 
Earlier today, I emailed Ron about that part of the ceremony and asked for a recollection. As always, he cooperated: Howard, the actor Paul Hogan (Crocodile  Dundee) said “You don’t go back to someone’s house because you like the furniture.” I’m sure for you, as with me, though we were thrilled to be in a shrine, the true joy was the gentle welcome one would receive from Paul. He was warm and inviting. Mr. ‘Fix–it’ by day; the voice of heaven at night. When I refereed [minor hockey], a supervisor once proclaimed “some officiate with honey; some with vinegar”. Here, again, I think of Paul finessing his P.A. job with honey. He was clear and powerful in an understated way. And, he made MLG a home anyone would want to revisit. Cheers, Ron. When I followed by asking whether Morris’s appearance at the closing ceremony was planned or spontaneous, MacLean replied That, I don’t recall. I think it was planned. [Leafs president] Ken Dryden was in charge of the show. I will see him Friday; maybe he remembers. Whatever the case, it was a perfect way to begin the hour–long ceremony. And, Paul later told me he was eternally grateful for the opportunity to wave so long to MLG patrons. Always a humble, soft–spoken man.

Paul and I stayed in touch after our Leaf “careers”. I never forgot to post (on Twitter and Facebook) about his birthday (June 20) and he always remembered mine (Feb. 3). Our last exchange began with his birthday greeting to me in 2024, just more than a year ago. When I didn’t hear from Morris on my 66th, eight days ago, I figured he either forgot or was busy. It turned out Paul was too ill and near the end of his life for any mobile–device communication. He died three days later (Feb. 6) at Lakeridge Health in Oshawa; wife Marion at his side. Lance Hornby, the dean of hockey writers in Toronto, penned a nice story about Morris in the Sun. Link: https://bit.ly/3Qca88m.

Though young fans attending Leaf games, or watching on TV, are more familiar with Andy Frost and Mike Ross — the P.A. announcers who succeeded Morris — my era will always associate Paul’s booming delivery with our youth and formative years. He truly was the Voice of God at Maple Leaf Gardens. And, that’s no fuddle–duddle.

EMAIL: HOWARDLBERGER@GMAIL.COM

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