Boris Mikhailov hoists the Challenge Cup after the Soviet national team defeated the NHL All-Stars in 1979. That’s NHL President John Ziegler on the left, and Al Eagleson on the right. (Image Source)
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Boris Mikhailov hoists the Challenge Cup after the Soviet national team defeated the NHL All-Stars in 1979. That’s NHL President John Ziegler on the left, and Al Eagleson on the right. (Image Source)
Served from 1977-92, brokered deal that brought four WHA teams into League
John A. Ziegler Jr., the NHL's fourth president, died Thursday. He was 84.
"The NHL family was saddened to learn of the passing of former League President John Ziegler," NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman said. "From 1977 until 1992, as just the fourth President in NHL history, John oversaw the growth of the League from 18 to 24 teams, including the 1979 addition of four teams from the WHA. He was instrumental in the NHL's transition to becoming a more international League - during his tenure, the share of European-born players in the NHL grew from two to 11 percent, players from the former Soviet Union first entered the League and games between NHL and European Clubs became a nearly annual tradition.
Roadtrip
By John Ziegler On the 40 through southeast California,the brown Sierra Nevada,and stretches of dry sand and toasted sagebrush.White wind turbines in the distancea dozen here, two dozen there, two hundred on the hilltopslow roll in the wind.I’m flying at 80 in the 70 zone,Brubeck playing “Take Five”, the sky a soft blue,just thirty miles west of Needleswhere I’ll drive 95 north to the old west…
Blue Heron Lake
By John Ziegler I woke at dawn.Still beneath the musty quiltI cranked the tall window open,smelled the moist air coming off the lake.I stretched and stepped from the bed,put on sneakers and jeans,the green flannel shirt over his white tee shirtand crept down the stairs to avoid waking the adults.I grabbed a muffin and an appleand hurried to the lakesidewhere the wooden rowboat was moored,rods…
Fox Robe
By John Ziegler She called it the fox robe which it wasn’t.I found it in the steamer trunk in her atticwrapped in brown butcher paper.It was more of a blanket.Eight fox pelts with glass eyes, a hint of fine yellow teeth.Unrolled, it released the aroma of moth ballsintended to prevent moths from eating the foxes.The trunk brought my grandfather’s belongingsfrom Germany in 1878.The robe covered…
The Cellar
By John Ziegler Grandma sent me down the creaky wooden steps to fetch jars of dilly beans and pickled beets. Which aroused my anxiety because there was a monkey paw in the back corner.Not so menacing by daylightbut after dark, that’s when the thing came alive.It was a fuzzy hunk of brown insulationon a water pipe, half hidden by a tapestry of cobwebsbut it moved a little when dim light from the…
Luther's Story and Lydia's Sampler
By John Ziegler Luther’s Story The aroma of white cheddar, and bread, warm on the palm,the joke about Leiderkrantz.His father’s long lip over smokey teeth,white shirt, trimmed nailssmooth hands of a baker.The woman in the fox fursipping camomile in the dark restaurant,the iron sounds of the night across the river.The barber’s chair,the fragrant foam, collarless striped shirt,a small pistol in…
Franklin Street 1957
By John Ziegler The rag man, in his broken shoes pushes his cart along the brick street, calls out with chafed voice,“Papers, magazines, rags.”.All afternoon the air is still and pale,the yellow leaves pasted to the wet street.Near dusk, Schmoyer’s farm truck clanks onto Franklin Street,loaded with cabbages, and carrots,potatoes with the mud still on.The old women gather, make pileson the wooden…