Home : Remembering :

The Brothers Sutter

Brian did a lot of explaining in the end, but it wasn't enough to save his job.

While growing up on their farm in Viking, 120 miles northeast of Red Deer, the seven Sutter boys befriended people older than themselves. It was difficult to find seven boys their age in a town of only 1,900, especially since they lived nine miles outside the city limits. For the most part, the only visitors were neighboring men and women who stopped by to say hello or help with the chores.

When the boys were old enough to play sports, they either competed against one another on the farm or went into town to battle older kids, sometimes men. Growing up on the 960-acre Sutter farm meant growing up fast. "We were doing a man's work when we were kids," Brian recalled. "I was driving tractors and grain trucks before I was ten. The older kids, Gary, myself, and Darryl, had responsibilities of men because there was work to be done. The work was never, ever something we were told to do. It was just a part of normal life."

Where would Brian go in the draft? He had established himself as one of the premier two-way players in western Canada. He had just tallied 92 points and 233 penalty minutes for Lethbridge in the Western Canadian Hockey League. There were players who were much more potent offensively, and others who were bigger and stronger and logged even more time in the penalty box standing up for their teammates. But few combined offense with toughness the way Brian did. The seventh pick, as the draft continued belonged to The St. Louis Blues selecting Bernie Federko from Saskatoon of the Western Canadian Hockey League."

That was no surprise. Sutter knew all about Federko. They played on a line together in the WCHL All-Star game. Federko had just turned 20 two weeks earlier, and there weren't many, if any, kids who could handle the puck like Federko at such a young age. During the past season, he had banged in 72 goals and dished off 115 assists in only 72 games. His 187 points were the most of any Junior A player in Canada and broke the WCHL scoring record set by Bobby Clarke in 1967-68.

However, as the first round ended, the name of Brian Sutter had yet to be called. The 18 teams had made their first choices, and every general manager felt there was at least one player better than the tough-nosed teenager from Lethbridge.

The Penguins started round number two by selecting Greg Malone of the Oshawa Generals. With the 20th pick the St. Louis Blues selected Brian Sutter. In a small, four-room farmhouse outside of Viking, the Sutter clan whooped and hollered. In Lethbridge, where Brian had starred the previous two seasons, residents started asking one another if they had heard the good news. And in Red Deer, Brian and friends went out and had a few draft beer. (Note: the word "beer" is never pluralized in Canada. You can drink all the beers you want in the States, but north of the border, do as the natives do and drop the "s.")

Like most kids growing up in rural western Canada, Brian knew very little about St. Louis. He had heard about the Plager brothers and knew a little something about Gary Unger and Red Berenson. But his knowledge of the city itself was hazy. He wasn't even sure where the place was.

Mike Shanahan presents Brian Sutter with a plaque commemorating his 300th goal, as Sutter's family and Blues announcer Dan Kelly look on.

When he reported to camp later that summer, Sutter felt awkward. That's a normal reaction, of course, for any rookie, but Brian felt especially out of place. And it was more than just the fact he was in another country, far removed from home.

Always intense, even at play, the Blues' second-round pick observed in amazement how some of the veterans handled themselves. Many of them seemed unenthused, unimpressed, and largely uninterested in the job at hand. Guys who had worked so hard to get to the NHL now approached the game with little fanfare.

How can this be? Wondered Sutter. How can they coast through their careers like this, working just hard enough to get by? Has the money of a professional career in hockey spoiled some of these players? Sutter loved to have fun as much as anyone. But not when there was work to be done. And with guys fighting for jobs, there was plenty of work out there.

Sutter was dazed and confused. He began to doubt the values that had been instilled in him the last 19 years. Was his approach to hockey too intense? Was he going to burn out of the sport about which he was so passionate? The first few days of training camp were a time of soul-searching for young Brian Sutter.

But as camp wore on, Sutter noticed his values were very similar to at least one member of the Blues. Brian watched this man intently from the second he arrived at camp. The 5' 11 ", 175-pound defenseman with thick, jet-black hair controlled the ice as if it was his domain. He barked orders, he demonstrated drills, and most of all, he commanded respect from everyone. No exceptions.

But this 35-year-old player from Kirkland, Lake, Ontario, still found time to put his arm around a teammate and discuss matters outside of hockey. And to a young, impressionable kid like Sutter, those visits were infinitely important in learning not just how to become a better player, but a better person.

That man was Barclay Plager. He proudly carried the title of "heart and soul of the Blues," a label that would be passed on to Sutter in a few short years. Plager was traded to the Blues just six weeks into their inaugural season in 1967. It didn't take long for him to give the fledgling organization some character. Plager wore the "C" on his jersey for five years and directed the Blues to Stanley Cup appearances in their first three seasons. As a left-handed defenseman, Plager solidified the team's blue line corps and made St. Louis one of the most respected defensive squads in the NHL.

His values were not complicated. Live every day to the fullest and enjoy life. Attack every job as if it was the most important responsibility ever undertaken. And don't ever do anything half-assed. People fail not because of ability, but from the misuse of that ability. In the world of Barclay Plager, it was that simple.

Brian Sutter never questioned himself again. He observed Plager's every action. He listened to his every word. Their developing friendship was just another example of Sutter's respect and admiration for older men who shared his father's values.

Plager didn't stick around camp very long. The Blues sent him to Kansas City that fall to coach their minor league affiliate in the Central Hockey League, his first head coaching job. It didn't take long for Plager to find success in his new line of work. As a player/coach for the Kansas City Blues, he led his team to the regular-season title and the Adams Cup championship, the CHL's version of the Stanley Cup. Plager narrowly missed an unheard of double sweep when awards were given out following the 1976-77 season. He was named the league's most valuable player and finished second in the voting for coach of the year.

The Kansas City franchise moved to Salt Lake City the following season and changed its name from the Blues to the Golden Eagles. Plager was retained as the head coach and was enjoying another successful year until an unexpected call came on February 16, 1978. Blues president and general manager Emile Francis told Plager to pack his bags and hop on the first flight to St. Louis. Francis had just fired Leo Boivin and named Plager to succeed him as the organization's 11th head coach.

Brian Sutter was ecstatic. The man he worshiped was coming back to St. Louis. Plager's presence paid dividends immediately for second-year players Sutter and Federko. "Sudsy" had struggled under Boivin, scoring just two goals in 52 games. His ice time plummeted as much as his confidence. Federko was equally discouraged. This alleged scoring phenom had pumped in only four goals in 54 games playing on the fourth line. Media and fans alike were wondering if the 1976 draft had been a bust.

But Plager's arrival erased all doubts. In Barclay's very first game as head coach, Federko scored two goals, and Sutter added a goal and an assist to lead the Blues to a 4-3 victory over Vancouver. That kind of production continued during the final six weeks of the season. Sutter went on a rampage, busting opponents with newfound rage and knocking in seven goals in the season's final 26 games. Federko was also given a more prominent role and promptly netted 13 goals and tallied 10 assists down the stretch. The two young men became linemates for the better part of the next ten years.

But two players do not a team make. In Plager's first full season as the Blues' head coach in 1978-79, the 22-year-old Sutter led the team in goals with 41, and Federko tallied a then-team record 95 points. Those two, however, were the only bright spots in a dismal season. The Blues lost 50 games, a franchise record that still stands.

Unfortunately for Plager, the team's ineptness flowed into the following year. After winning just eight of his first 24 games, the organization's "heart and soul" lacked the heart to proceed any further. On December 8, 1979, Plager voluntarily stepped down, switching places with assistant coach Red Berenson. "I just can't motivate the team any longer," Plager said.

With the redhead now in charge and Barc allowed to become personally involved again with the players, something that is taboo for a head coach, the Blues were about to embark on one of the greatest rags-to-riches-to-rags stories in hockey history.

After stumbling along as one of the worst teams in hockey the previous four-and-a-half seasons, the Blues suddenly took off under the new coaching arrangement. They went 26-20-9 the remainder of the 1979-80 season to finish a respectable 34-34-12.

Almost overnight, the Blues became one of the league's elite teams. With an influx of talented new stars, including left wingers Jorgen Pettersson and Perry Turnbull, right winger Wayne Babych, and goalie Mike Liut, the Blues lost only four of their first 17 games in 1980-81 en route to a season-long battle with the New York Islanders for the NHL's top spot.

The Blues tired a bit at the end, winning just five of their last 13 games to finish second to the streaking Islanders. But their overall record was a remarkable 45-18-17 for 107 points. The team had gone from 50 losses to 45 wins in just two years. And with a majority of their stars 25 years old and younger, the Blues were set to blossom into a dynasty.

However (with the Blues there is always a "however"), the Blues meteoric rise gave way to an equally rapid decline. After being ousted in the second round of the playoffs by the New York Rangers, St. Louis suffered through injuries, ill-advised trades, and new coaching techniques that Berenson had picked up at the Canada Cup in the summer of 1981.

The redhead couldn't wait to try out his "innovative" drills when training camp started the following September. But the change in Berenson befuddled some of his players who couldn't understand why there was a sudden instructional overhaul following the best regular season in team history. Some guys started to question their coach's newfound philosophy. The plan backfired.

The destruction was complete. This once-promising team had been gutted. On March 8, 1982, following an embarrassing 8-1 loss in Minnesota that gave the Blues a 28-34-6 record, Berenson was given a one-way ticket out of St. Louis. Plager stayed on as an assistant, and Emile Francis added the position of head coach to his already cluttered list of titles, including team governor, president, and general manager.

But the damage had been done, and the Blues never recovered. Over the next four years, three different owners controlled the city's hockey team, and three different men coached it. But through all the turmoil, Barclay Plager remained as a coach, Brian Sutter retained the "C" on his jersey, an honor first given to him in 1979, and Bernie Federko continued to lead the team in assists and points. That triumvirate formed the core of the St. Louis Blues that lasted until the late '80s. They were the most recognizable figures on the team for more than a decade.

Rich and Ron were reunited once again, much to the displeasure of Sutter-bashers.

Federko respected Plager as a mentor and a close friend, someone who was more than willing to share a few pointers about the game of hockey and the game of life. Plager taught Federko about the honor of wearing the Bluenote. He told him the jersey was to be respected as if it were the Canadian or American flag. It wasn't to be thrown down on the floor or stepped on. When he wasn't proudly wearing it on the ice, Federko was instructed to carefully hang it in the locker room. The Blues' star center learned to associate Plager with everything great about hockey.

While Barc was a brother to Federko, he was more like a father to Sutter. Every time Brian looked into Plager's eyes, he saw his own dad back in Viking. He saw the same values, the same philosophy of life, and the same system for success. Every word Plager uttered left an indelible impression on the team captain. The two shared a special relationship that was seemingly unbreakable. In the late '80s, that bond became stronger than steel. It had to be. Life would soon deal a cruel and vicious blow. Their world was about to fall apart.

The twins (Ron and Rich) had been fortunate to play together in the NHL with the Flyers. But with Richie's trade to the Canucks, to join forces again in the future seemed doubtful. But in March of 1990, Rich was traded to the Blues with Harold Snepts for Adrien Plavsic and two draft choices.

The media quickly went to work, writing and broadcasting that Rich Sutter was unhappy with the trade. Some reporters opined that Rich was unwilling to play for his older brother Brian, the second-year coach of the Blues.

Harold Snepsts

As it turned out, Richie was indeed upset. Not with the trade, but with the reporting of the trade. He said he was not unhappy going to St. Louis, especially since his good friend, Harold Snepsts, was going along for the ride. Sutter explained the media misinterpreted his feelings. "The media don't understand when things like that happen, and that's what really pisses me off," said Rich. "How would you like it if you were traded, and ten minutes later people were sticking cameras and microphones in your face and asking, 'How do you feel?' You don't even give a guy a chance to sit down and think about it a little bit."

Meanwhile, Brian Sutter was forced to answer his own critics back home, many of whom accused him of nepotism. Richie was considered a hard-working player with marginal offensive skills. Wasn't there someone better the Blues could've acquired? Probably, scoffed Brian's antagonists, but he just wanted one of his brothers here.

Rich Sutter probably wished the trade had not been made, at least in the beginning. Brian treated his younger brother like his worst enemy. He yelled and screamed at him. He pointed accusatory fingers at him. He worked him like a mule.

The reasons were simple. Reporters, fans, and even players were watching very closely how the two brothers interacted. Brian wasn't about to coddle Richie. One glancing smile or arm around the shoulder could spell mistrust in the locker room. "It's definitely harder on one of my brothers being here that it is on me, because there are assholes pointing fingers," Brian said. "I don't spend any more time with them than I do with any other player. I don't go out to bars with my brothers. I don't go out to eat with them. I don't have them over for supper. I was harder on Richie because, as a family, we expected more of ourselves than anyone else. We expected a lot of each other."

Rich Sutter

But Brian went a little overboard, expecting a bit too much from his younger sibling. Harold Snepsts, one of Brian's chief antagonists during Sutter's playing days, couldn't bite his tongue any longer. Shortly after Harold and Richie were traded to the Blues, Snepsts marched into the coach's office to give his former foe a chewing out. "You leave him alone!" barked Snepsts, pointing a finger at Brian's face. "You leave Richie alone, and just let him go out and play hard for you, because he'll always be there for you."

Message accepted. After suspicions faded away and people began to tolerate a team with two Sutters, Richie was allowed to go out and play without the coach tanning his hide at every turn.

In his first full season with the Blues, 1990-91, the right-winger was teamed with center Bob Bassen and left winger Dave Lowry. The three grinders formed one of the most respected and exciting checking lines in the league. That line itself was worth the price of admission. They became the Blues' trademark of good old-fashioned, hard-nosed, "in-your-face" hockey. Richie scored 16 goals that year, the third-highest total of his career, and added six points in the playoffs, double the number he had tallied in any previous playoff year.

However, just when everyone thought the Sutter-bashers were safely locked away, they re-appeared with a new vengeance on September 22, 1991, when another Sutter took up residence at the Arena. The critics were given even more fodder when the new guy was awarded an "A" as the team's alternate captain.

Left to right: Murray Baron, Garth Butcher, Rich Sutter, Gino Cavallini, and Bob Bassen.

But when Ron Sutter arrived in St. Louis, he brought with him an understanding of how some people would react. He was prepared for it, and let the criticism roll right down his No. 22. "I really didn't have any problems when I came here because Richie helped me prepare," said Ron. "Even before I was traded, Richie gave me an idea what the relationship was like between the players, himself, and the coaches."

Sounds good. But don't the players privately grumble about the abundance of Sutters on the team? "I haven't heard anything. If there are guys who are uncomfortable about it, then they're insecure about their own jobs. I've played in the NHL for nine years. You can't tell me I don't know how to play this game. I didn't get traded here because I'm a Sutter. Richie and I got traded here because we're ingredients the Blues hope will help them win."

Fair enough. But what about playing for your older brother? Doesn't he single you out when things are going bad? "Sure, Brian's had to kick me in the rear a few times, and I obviously deserved it. He's always stressed to me, 'Don't be an example, set an example.' That's one of the nice things about having your brother as a coach. You know what's expected of you every time you come to the rink"

Contrary to what his critics think, Brian insists he would trade one of the twins in a heartbeat if it meant improving the team. "If a trade came up where we felt we could upgrade our hockey club," explains Brian, "and we had to trade Richie or Ronnie, I would say yes without hesitation. It comes down to business. We have to win."

So the three Sutters have managed to dodge most of the poison arrows flung their way. Occasionally, a scathing newspaper article will penetrate their thick coat of armor and strike a nerve. They are not insensitive to criticism. But for the most part, the Sutter brothers have learned to put the blinders on, stare straight ahead, and bust their tails in an all-out assault on success. The lessons they learned growing up in Viking, Alberta, were still being put to good use in St. Louis, Missouri.

Regular Season Playoffs Blues Season GP G A Pts PIM GP G A Pts PIM Brian Sutter 1976-77 35 4 10 14 82 4 1 0 1 14 1977-78 78 9 13 22 123 1978-79 77 41 39 80 165 1979-80 71 23 35 58 156 3 0 0 0 4 1980-81 78 35 34 69 232 11 6 3 9 77 1981-82 74 39 36 75 239 10 8 6 14 49 1982-83 79 46 30 76 254 4 2 1 3 10 1983-84 76 32 51 83 162 11 1 5 6 22 1984-85 77 37 37 74 121 3 2 1 3 2 1985-86 44 19 23 42 87 9 1 2 3 22 1986-87 14 3 3 6 18 1987-88 76 15 22 37 147 10 0 3 3 49 Rich Sutter 1989-90 12 2 0 2 22 12 2 1 3 39 1990-91 77 16 11 27 122 13 4 2 6 16 1991-92 77 9 16 25 107 6 0 0 0 8 1992-93 84 13 14 27 100 11 0 1 1 10 Ron Sutter 1991-92 68 19 27 46 91 6 1 3 4 8 1992-93 59 12 15 27 99 1993-94 36 6 12 18 46

---

top of page

back a page