If ever a team was destined for failure, it was the 1983-84 Pittsburgh Penguins. Only a season removed from a rousing near-miss against the powerhouse Islanders in the 1982 playoffs, the Pens had fallen on hard times with a pronounced thud. Long-time general manager Baz Bastien tragically died as the result of a car accident the previous spring. In one of his final moves he unwittingly traded the first overall choice in the 1983 Entry Draft to Minnesota—a pick that could’ve netted the team Peterborough scoring sensation Steve Yzerman.
The club’s new GM, Eddie Johnston, surveyed the rubble with an unflinching eye. He was determined to break with the club’s tradition of trading away draft choices for veterans—a destructive legacy that reached its peak during the Bastien era, when the Pens dealt four first-round picks, as well as a second- and third-round choice.
“Other franchises were getting top young players like Bobby Smith and Sylvain Turgeon, and I remember Mike Lange saying, ‘Why can’t we get one of those guys?’” Paul Steigerwald recalled.
Building through the draft was a luxury that the Penguins seemed ill-equipped to afford. Although owner Edward J. DeBartolo, Sr. had deep pockets, he had grown weary of all the losing.
Fortunately, there was a flickering light at the end of the tunnel. A franchise player would be available in the upcoming draft—one universally hailed as the finest prospect to come out of junior hockey since “the Great One,” Wayne Gretzky. His name was Mario Lemieux.
With his eyes fixed firmly on the prize, Johnston began to rebuild in an unusual fashion. He released Paul Baxter, arguably the club’s second-best defenseman, and dealt productive Greg Malone to Hartford for a draft pick.
Newcomers Ted Bulley, Rocky Saganiuk, and Greg Tebbutt were added at bargain basement prices. Mitch Lamoureux, a 57-goal scorer at Baltimore, and defenseman Phil Bourque were promoted from the minors. Nineteen-year old Bob Errey, selected with the first-round pick acquired from Minnesota, also made the squad.
The Penguins wisely switched their marketing theme from “We Have a Hockey Team,” to the more appropriate “Boys of Winter.” Indeed, there would be many nights during the upcoming season when the Pens appeared to be a collection of boys attempting to compete in a man’s game.
With a lineup that consisted mainly of aging veterans, minor-league retreads and inexperienced youngsters, the team flopped out of the starting blocks. Attendance plummeted along with the club’s on-ice fortunes. Rumors circulated that the team would move to Hamilton, Ontario, or Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, following the season.
While the sad-sack Pens stumbled along, Lemieux was shattering junior hockey scoring records. Knowing full well the only way the franchise would survive was to land the Laval wonder, Johnston redoubled his efforts to ensure the Penguins would finish dead last.
It was a good thing he did, because the Pens had competition. The equally putrid Devils were free-falling through the standings as well with an eye toward drafting Lemieux.
Nonplussed, Johnston dealt former Norris Trophy winner Randy Carlyle to Winnipeg for a first-round pick and future considerations. Under the guise of evaluating talent, he called up Vincent Tremblay and watched as the overmatched goalie allowed a staggering 24 goals in four games.
“EJ sent down Roberto Romano, who was not great, but good,” Steigerwald explained. “Vincent Tremblay wasn’t very good.”
Indeed, the Pens seemed to be playing to lose as New Jersey president Bob Butera suggested. Black-and-gold coach Lou Angotti took umbrage.
“Bob Butera’s got no [expletive] class,” he fumed. “What he said about our team is a disgrace. We do everything we can to win every game we can.”
Predictably, the Pens finished the season in a death spiral. Posting a dismal record of 16-58-6, they were unquestionably among the most hapless teams of all-time.
Two months later Johnston strode to the podium at the Montreal Forum and proudly announced in halting French that the Penguins had selected “numero soixante-six” of the Laval Voison with the first choice in the Entry Draft. The team had its savior.
In 2004, Angotti admitted to Chuck Finder of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette what had long been suspected. The Pens had, indeed, tanked the season to draft Mario.
“We didn’t exactly try to throw games,” he said. “But, you know, we went in there with the understanding…we weren’t going to be upset if we lost.”
