Lying His Way to the NHL

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In today’s email…a little white lie changed the course of his life.

If he weren’t at the beach on that exact day at that specific time, he wouldn’t be where he is today.

His rise from beach bum to Hall of Famer is unlike any story in sports.

Let’s dive in 👇

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Meet the California Beach Bum Who Became a Hockey Hall of Famer

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“My entire NHL career was based on a lie I told during a 30-second telephone conversation in 1979.”

If he weren't on the beach that exact day, at that particular time, he wouldn't be where he is today.

That little white lie was just one twist in his unlikely rise from humble beginnings.

The son of Greek immigrants, Chris Chelios was born and raised on the south side of Chicago.

When he wasn’t playing hockey, Chris was working at his father's restaurant.

“Kids who grew up in my era knew about cartoons and sports heroes,” Chelios wrote in his autobiography, Made in America.

“I knew about restaurants.”

While it was his father’s dream for him to land a college scholarship, Chris never thought that far ahead.  He just loved being on the ice.

Money was tight, so a family friend chipped in to help send him to a Catholic school in Chicago.

He played on the JV team through his sophomore year, before one memorable day on varsity.

“​​When one of our top centers was suspended for the championship game, I was promoted… I scored both goals in a 2–1 victory. My second goal came with eight seconds to go in the game.”

Unfortunately, it was his first and last time playing varsity hockey in Illinois.

After his father lost his restaurant, the Chelios family relocated 2,000 miles west to San Diego, California.

While the move was great for the sunny weather and laid-back lifestyle, it wasn’t the best for Chris’ hockey career.

“I played midget hockey out there, but the competition wasn’t good.”

His team didn’t even have a name.  They were simply called “San Diego” and had a fast-food chain logo on their jerseys.

So Chris took it upon himself to seek out better competition.

A few days a week, him and a handful of teammates went to play for a tournament team in Los Angeles.  Still, it wasn’t what he expected.

While other players his age were traveling around with high-level programs, Chelios was playing for an L.A. team that faced the same opponent over and over again.

“We won the state championship one season because we had no other team in our category.”

Back then, Americans didn’t have much of a presence in the NHL.  The league was dominated by Canadians.

College recruiters and NHL scouts preferred crossing the northern border to find top-notch talent.

And if they did look in the States, it wouldn’t be in San Diego.

“You looked for vacation homes in San Diego,” Chris wrote. “You didn’t look for hockey players.”

Given his location and lack of competition, the chances of him playing in college were virtually nonexistent.

But for Chris, ignorance was bliss.

“None of that mattered to me at that time; I had no clue about the lack of Americans in the NHL, nor did I give any thought to my chances of being a college or professional player.”

After getting his feet back under him, his dad opened a new restaurant.

But when Chris wasn’t working, he spent his downtime a lot differently than he did back in Chicago.

“I did love playing hockey, and I was hoping to find a way to continue playing. But at that time of my life, I was spending more time on the beach than on the ice.”

The San Diego lifestyle was intoxicating.

Almost every day, Chris went surfing, cliff jumping, and racing down mountains on motorbikes.

He was a self-described “​​teenage beach bum delinquent”.

“Everything possibly I could do not to play hockey, [I did],” he said in an interview.

By his high school graduation, approximately zero college recruiters had ever heard of Chris Chelios.

Luckily for him, a local college – United States International University – had just launched their NCAA hockey program.

In the fall, Chris enrolled there with the idea to try out for the team as a walk-on.

At the time, he was a 5’10”, 155-pound center competing against players three or four years older than him.

“Canada had hundreds of junior players or former junior players who were excited about the possibility of leaving the frozen north to play [college] hockey in a city where the beach was only minutes away.”

Chris realized he wasn’t as lucky as he'd thought.

The tryouts didn’t go well, and he got cut.

“In hindsight, I probably didn’t deserve to make the team. It looked as if my hockey career was over before it truly began.”

Between classes, Chelios kept his job at the family restaurant until one night, his dad blew up on him.

“He pulled down a rack of bread on top of me. I walked out of the restaurant and vowed that I would never work for my father again. It was a vow that I kept.”

Without a job or path to continue playing hockey, Chris needed a plan.

It presented itself one day on La Jolla Shores Beach.

He bumped into Bobby Parker, another guy who tried out for the local college team. 

Parker made the squad but told Chris it was a bad fit and he was going back home.

“He had decided he wanted to return to his Canadian hometown of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, to play Tier II junior hockey. He suggested I call his coach, Larry Billows, and ask for a tryout.”

Chelios hesitated at first.

Just a year earlier, he’d tried out for two junior teams in Canada and got cut both times.

But a few days later, Chris figured he’d give it one last shot. From a payphone next to a lifeguard tower, he called the Canucks’ coach.

The conversation would change his life forever.

“What position do you play?” Billows asked.

“What positions do you need?” Chris replied.

“I need a D man,” he said.

“Good,” Chris lied, “because I play defense.”

Up to that point, Chelios had never played a single minute of defense in his life.

“I had nothing to lose.”

Billows offered him a tryout, but the opportunity almost slipped away as quickly as it came.

Chris was broke – he never got paid for working at his dad’s restaurant – and couldn’t afford the flight to Saskatchewan.

When he asked Billows to pay for his airfare, the coach refused.

“At that moment, it seemed as if my adult hockey career might be restricted to the California beer leagues.”

Luckily for him, the Canucks lost their next game.  Four days later, Billows called him back and offered to pay for his flight.

And just like that, Chelios flew north to a foreign country to compete for a position he’d never played.

Billows gave him four days to try out.  Meanwhile, the Canucks kept losing.

One day, after a defenseman made a critical blunder, Billows told Chris: “Ok, you’re in next game.”

He scored on his first shift.

That taste of success only motivated him more.  He had his foot in the door, and now it was time to bust it wide open.

Being away from home, and in a hardcore hockey environment, Chris put his full focus into becoming the best player he could be.

At his coach’s request, he also learned how to fight.

In two years in the Saskatchewan Junior Hockey League, Chelios racked up 295 penalty minutes in 108 games.

“A chunk of those PIMs resulted from standing up for myself as an American on foreign soil,” he explained.

In the same span, Chelios put up 35 goals and 130 points.

“From the moment he stepped on the ice, it was his natural position,” said Bobby Parker, the man who helped him land the opportunity.

“I’ve never seen anybody learn something or get so good at something so fast. I mean, it was really amazing. I’d talk to him about something, and right away, he’d add that to his game. The next shift, it was there. He had the keys to the rink, so he’d be in there at 1 o’clock in the morning. When everybody else is gone home or at the bar, he’s out shooting the puck.”

While the league paid him $200 a month to cover his expenses, Chelios also got a job at a local lumber yard.

The Canucks didn’t practice until 4 pm, so he was essentially working full-time while playing hockey.

“It seemed as if I had a high-paying job,” he said. “[But] maybe that’s because Dad never gave me a paycheck when I worked for him.”

Chelios likened his experience in Saskatchewan to the movie Slap Shot because of all the fighting and the characters he played with.

He lived in the moment, not thinking much about the future or the possibilities of where he might end up.

Chris didn’t get much attention from college recruiters until his second season in Moose Jaw.

But when the calls came, they didn’t stop.

“The phone never stopped ringing at our home, and it reached a point where I was far more annoyed than flattered.”

Everything came together that year.

In the second round of the 1981 NHL Draft, Chelios was selected by the Montreal Canadiens.

Shortly after, he committed to the University of Wisconsin–Madison for two years of American college hockey.

In 1984, he played for the U.S. national team in the Sarajevo Winter Olympics.

Later that year, he made the Montreal Canadiens’ final roster and stayed in the NHL for good.

Hockey fans know what happened next.

Chris Chelios played in the NHL through his age-48 season in 2010, becoming the oldest NHL defenseman of all time.

He put together an impressive career, blazing a trail for a new generation of Americans in the league:

• 1,651 NHL regular season games

• 266 playoff games

• 3 Norris Trophies

• 3 Stanley Cups

He became a first-ballot Hall of Famer in 2013 and is recognized as one of the greatest American defensemen in NHL history.

“I owe everything in my life to my family, my friends, and this great game of hockey,” he said in his induction speech.

His climb from beach bum to Hall of Famer is one of the most unlikely journeys in sports history.

“As it turned out, my game plan in hockey was the same one we had surfing 30 years in San Diego,” Chelios wrote in his book.

“I caught a big wave and rode it as hard as I could for as long as I could.”

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Til next time,
Tyler

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