From the foreword by Wayne Gretzky
Peter never interfered with the team, but every now and then he’d come into the locker room, and he’d talk to the players. Well, he came in one day — I’ll never forget this as long as I live — and he said, “How are you feeling, Wayne?” I said, “I’m feeling good.” I’m getting dressed for the warm-up and he said, “You think you can get three goals and seven points tonight?” What do you say when your owner says this?
So I said, “Yeah, yeah I feel good.” So he said, “Okay, I’ll give you 10-to-1 odds on a hundred bucks.” All right. Again, what are you going to say? No?
Anyway, one of my teammates beside me said, “Hey Peter, can I have the same bet?” And Peter looked right at the kid and said, “Yeah, absolutely.” And the kid went, “Well, how many points?” And Peter said, “Same bet, right?”
And the kid went, “Hold on a sec, I’ve got 15 goals. I can’t have the same bet as Gretz.” And Peter looked at him and said, “Fifteen goals! Why do we still have you here?” And he walked away.
The whole room just fell over laughing. And I’m thinking, did he really mean that or was that just his way of saying, “You better get going”? I couldn’t figure it out. But I did get the three goals and the seven points that night.
Read more of Gretzky’s foreword in either The Puck Talks Here or I’d Trade Him Again: Wayne Gretzky & Peter Pocklington
From The Puck Talks Here
“This guy cocked a chrome-plated .357 Magnum and held it to my head. ‘Do as I tell you,’ he said, ‘or I’m going to kill you.’ My blood instantly ran cold. But I also realized, quickly, thank God, that if I didn’t take control of the situation, I would soon be dead. I paused for 10 seconds or so — though it seemed much longer — then said, ‘Fine,’ and led the gunman back into the kitchen.
“Eva had her back to me, talking on the phone. She turned and saw me standing by the door, a gun to my head. She screamed and dropped the phone. It fell hard, clanging as it hit the tile floor. She picked it up and put it back on its receiver.
“The stranger told us to sit, but I wasn’t about to let him tell me what to do. I screwed up my courage — or ignored my fears; I’m not sure which — and told him no.
“ ‘Obviously you’re here for money,’ I said, “ ‘so the first thing I want you to do is uncock the gun, or we don’t talk.’ I looked into the gunman’s eyes. They were beady as blazes. He was upset that I would dare tell him what to do, but when I pointed out that if anyone was hurt, there wouldn’t be any money, he quickly changed his mind. He uncocked the weapon and put it on the table. He also put down the bag he was carrying, then pulled a knife from it, along with some wire.
Read more in The Puck Talks Here: The amazing life & turbulent times of Peter Pocklington