Ace Bailey Was One of the Good Guys

I met Ace Bailey in person only once, but for me it was memorable. I was writing a script about one of Ace’s former teammates with the Boston Bruins and he was one of the many players I interviewed for background purposes.

As I made my way up the steps to the press box at the Inglewood Forum, I spotted him immediately. But I asked someone just to make sure. It felt funny asking for someone named Ace; not many people are named Ace.

We talked about a lot of things and he graciously introduced me to all his buddies. He regaled me with stories about the old Boston Bruins from the late ‘60s and ‘70s. The players were good--they won two Stanley Cups--but they were also one of the closest-knit teams in hockey history and known for playing hard off the rink. They had crazy nicknames and they went on crazy escapades like donning hospital masks and surgical garb to kidnap their teammate Phil Esposito from his hospital bed, and wheeling him through the streets of Boston to an all-important party.

After winning the Stanley Cup in 1972, Ace’s teammate Johnny “Pie” McKenzie doused the mayor with a pitcher of beer.

In one of the first scenes in the script (based on a real game that took place in 1969), Ace and one of his teammates, followed by many in the Bruin organization, chased a fan through the runway, under the stands and out onto the street outside the Montreal Forum--in full uniform and skates.

There were several different versions of this story, but I liked Ace’s version the best. The fan had just taken a swing at the Bruins’ Bobby Orr (basically the franchise), who was watching from the stands that night, and they were seeking revenge. The fan hailed a cab and got away as Ace and his teammate watched helplessly. Just about everyone who reads that scene doesn’t believe it really happened. But it did.

Another time, after a night of debauchery, he followed his friend Wayne Cashman home in their cars. They stopped at a red light. When the light turned green, Wayne honked at the driver in front of him who wasn’t moving.

Somehow, a full-scale donnybrook broke out in the streets of Boston and despite Ace’s efforts at being the peacemaker, the police eventually arrived and arrested Wayne for driving while intoxicated.

Wayne was taken to jail and instead of calling his lawyer, he used his one phone call to order Chinese food for everyone in the jail. When another of Wayne’s teammates came to bail him out the next morning, he paid the bail and had to reimburse the irate sheriff for the Chinese food. He remembers the amount of the bill to this day.

At that game at the Forum, Ace explained his job as head scout for the Kings.

While watching the game, one of his duties was to write down the numbers of the opposing players who were impressive--this information would later be analyzed and used for future trades.

“You mean, like, you write down No. 33?” I said, laughing to myself.

“I’m not going to write down 33,” he laughed, “Marty’s a good friend of mine.”

He was referring to No. 33, former King player Marty McSorley, who was playing for the Edmonton Oilers at the time. I told him I was just joking, that I was a little bit of a Marty McSorley fan.

Just then, on cue, a belligerent fan yelled in a heavy New York accent, “Hey, McSorley, get off the ice--you bleepin’ moron!!!!”

“Well, there you go,” Ace said, “another fellow McSorley fan.”

There’s one thing that everyone who knew Ace knows. If there was anything that could have been done to save all those people Tuesday, Ace would have been leading the way.

Ali Adair

Alhambra