I was saddened to learn that former Penguins defenseman Bryan Watson passed away yesterday at age 78. A hockey neophyte when “Bugsy” served as the team’s “policeman” back in the late 1960s and early ‘70s, I can still recall kids at the bus stop recounting his fights and other nefarious exploits with wide-eyed excitement. Without further ado, here’s my sendoff to the tough little battler. Rest in peace, Bugsy.
When Bryan Joseph Watson arrived in Pittsburgh in January 1969 as part of a big six-player trade with Oakland, the Penguins were mired in the West Division cellar and hopelessly out of playoff contention. They were reasonably skilled by expansion team standards, but sadly lacking in character and grit.
“Watson is the key,” said Penguins general manager Jack Riley. “He’s a tough little guy. He has the quality we want. He’s a hockey player with spark.”
A rambunctious little defenseman whose heart was several sizes bigger than his undersized body, Watson had made a name for himself during the 1966 Stanley Cup Semifinals. Assigned the daunting task of shadowing Chicago superman Bobby Hull, the callow 23-year-old Red Wing resorted to tactics legal and illegal—including a liberal dose of stick work—to hold “the Golden Jet” in check.
“When I’m told to watch a guy, I watch him,” Watson said with an impish grin.
Hull was less enthusiastic. When asked about his tormentor after the Black Hawks had been vanquished, the normally gracious Hull steamed, “Boy does that guy bug me!” From then on Watson was known as “Bugsy.”
Watson immediately established himself in the Steel City. Suddenly opponents who tried to take liberties with his less combative teammates, most notably the Blues’ rugged Plager brothers, Barclay and Bob, found themselves nose-to-nose with the little roughneck. Not coincidentally, the Penguins rallied sharply and played nearly .500 hockey down the homestretch.
“He brought a different element to the team,” Syl Apps said. “He was very supportive of everybody. He egged people on; he could get the best out of some guys one way or another.”
Watson’s confrontational style made him wildly popular in Pittsburgh. Although far from physically imposing and average with his dukes at best, he was nonetheless a very effective on-ice cop. With an arsenal that included trips, slashes, elbows, cross-checks, butt-ends, and high-sticks—not to mention the quickest lip in the league—Bugsy would go to any length to stop an opponent.
“Pound for pound, he was the toughest and most hard-nosed player ever,” said the late John Ferguson, a former Montreal teammate and NHL heavyweight champ.
Bugsy willingly paid the price for his indiscretions. Sporting a mass of scar tissue around his eyes and a nose flattened from countless battles, he had the look of a middleweight fighter.
“I’d better get married soon,” he joked, “before I get any uglier.”
Although aggressive play was clearly his stock in trade, Watson worked hard to improve himself as a hockey player. In 1971-72, he enjoyed his finest season, tallying a career-best 20 points while piling up a league-leading 212 penalty minutes. The following season he paced the club’s defensemen with a sparkling plus-18.
“Bryan had some great qualities,” teammate Jean Pronovost said. “He was definitely a team man. He would do anything for the team. He wasn’t the biggest guy, but he had a big heart. I liked his attitude. He was a player’s player. He put the team first. He sacrificed his body to accomplish that. He was limited talent-wise, but he lasted because he was willing to pay the price.”
Bugsy also possessed a great sense of humor. During a road trip to Los Angeles in the early 1970s he famously hijacked a Marriott courtesy bus on a dare and took his teammates for a joy ride before returning them to the hotel safe and sound.
On another occasion, when the Penguins were being operated by the league, he needled NHL Commissioner Clarence Campbell.
“Hey, Clarence,” he quipped, “how do you think your club’s doing tonight?”
Although always a Penguin at heart, Watson was traded to St. Louis in January of 1974. Despite his limited skills he played for five more seasons before hanging up his skates. True to form, Bugsy finished his NHL career with 2,212 penalty minutes.
Sad, Sad, Sad. He had a heart the size of the
Civic Arena “Igloo”.
I can still see him lining up an opposing player
and rubbing him out in the corner.
The ultimate team player.