Abe Pollin (Owner, 1974-97)

Abe Pollin will be remembered as a Giant in all the ways that matter: devoted husband and father, successful businessman, tireless and generous charitable giver, and financial force behind two arenas, at times and in places they were desperately needed.

His legacy as a sports owner, especially in hockey, is less pristine. A kernel of truth – sometimes more – exists in criticism of Pollin as owner of the Capitals from 1974-1997.

Such as: the Caps were a neglected stepchild to their basketball and arena siblings; Pollin didn’t spend enough; Capital Centre’s bad ice and bad location discouraged his team and turned off free agents; threatening to move the team in 1982 was a rich owner’s power play.

Upon closer examination, those critiques spring some leaks.

Yes, the NBA was Abe’s first and enduring passion. But he grew to love his hockey team, too. Puck fans in almost all U.S. cities feel in some way underserved, due to the NHL’s relatively low profile and popularity compared to the other “Big 4” team sports.

(That's Abe, highlighted by the red oval, helping the Caps raise the banner for their first division title.)

And without Pollin, there’d be no NHL team in town to begin with.



Don’t blame him for building Capital Centre in Landover.

When awarded an NHL franchise, Pollin promised a place to play by 1974. The District couldn’t find a location, so Pollin was forced to defer his dream of a downtown arena. (You can, however, blame Abe for claiming the Centre was still a “premier” building as late as 1993.)

Capitals President Dick Patrick admitted to the Washington Post that front-office mistakes, such as failing to re-sign defenseman Scott Stevens in 1990, “Made some fans think we're not committed to winning."

That’s the ultimate sports metric: championships. Undeniably, Pollin and the Caps didn’t win any. Given their tremendous regular-season success during the 1980’s, though, blame for the Cup drought seems to rest more with the players and hockey management.

Owners have one other “ultimate” metric: profitability. Pollin acknowledged to the Post that the Caps represented "the major failure of my business career."


Sports accounting is so tangled, it’s impossible to know how much financial pain the Capitals actually caused Pollin’s sports empire. He claimed a staggering $20 million in losses in just 8 years.

If so, how much more should he have plowed back into the team? Remember, Pollin didn’t have the deep pockets of corporate-owned competitors. And the Caps’ payroll did eventually escalate into the league's top 10.

When Pollin threatened to sell or move the team in 1982 due to financial hardship, the “Save the Caps” campaign felt unseemly, bush league, even a bald example of corporate welfare.

Still, this coin also has two sides. The landscape is littered with sports owners who pulled up stakes without giving fans and businesses a shot to keep them.

Pollin had many chances to sell the team, and didn’t - probably the best indication the team was more than a business property to him.

(One of those almost-sales was in 1994, when NHL commissioner Gary Bettman brokered a deal between Pollin and a partner in baseball’s Texas Rangers. According to Mark Asher of the Post, the sale all but crossed the financial goal line. Four years later, when Pollin did sell to Ted Leonsis, he again almost backed out at the last minute.

Oh, and about the baseball Rangers: another co-owner at the time was none other than George W. Bush. Can you imagine if he had decided to join his partner in buying a piece of the hockey club? Other teams would have no doubt misunderestimated the Caps after that.)

Jimmy Anderson (Coach, 1974-75)

What’s more thankless in sports than coaching an expansion team? Saddled with fringe players, especially back when leagues were stingy with stocking new teams; losing a lot, and by a lot; and knowing you won’t be around by the time it gets better.

Jimmy Anderson coached the Capitals for their first 54 games, winning 4. Like all members of his woebegone fraternity, Anderson suffered through the five stages of Expansion Coach Grief:

Hope: “I had two goals in life,” Anderson told his introductory news conference. “One was to play in the NHL, and one was to coach in the NHL. It took me 36 years to play 7 games. I hope it doesn’t take me that long to get a winner in Washington.” (BTW, the franchise is now 37 years old and counting without a title.)

Despair: The Capitals record had sunk to 2-23-4 when Anderson observed, “It’s tough being an expansion team. You get it in your mind you can’t win.”

Humor: The Caps took to the ice on a Sunday night, just as another Dallas-Washington epic was concluding at RFK Stadium. After the Caps got pounded, 6-0, Anderson asked, “Did anyone hear the score of the Redskins game? I meant to watch it. But I had to go to a hockey game.”

Dismissal: With zero road wins in 28 games, and an 0-for-60 stretch on the power play, the Capitals relieved Anderson on Feb, 11, 1975. Ray Fitzgerald of the Boston Globe wrote in Jimmy’s defense, “To begin with, the job was impossible. You can't take nine hockey players named Flotsam and nine more named Jetsam and win many games. You can't make an apple pie out of a barrel of lemons.”

Contentment: 20 years later, Anderson still wore a Capitals ring on his right hand. "It was a great experience. It was my one NHL head coaching job, and, sure, the record was a disaster, but it wasn't anybody's fault.”

(Quotes from Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Baltimore sun, Anchorage Daily News)

Milt Schmidt (General Manager & Coach, 1974-75)

Milt Schmidt won two Stanley Cups centering Boston's famous "Kraut" line, and two more as general manager.

When Schmidt became the first G.M. of the new Washington Capitals in 1974, he gushed, "I feel like a kid with a new toy."

This Toy Story wasn't a comedy. By the late stages of that 8-win season, G.M. Milt appointed himself coach, too - he had fired his first coach, while the second resigned because of ulcers. Now he was quoted saying, "I feel like I want to vomit."

Schmidt was mercifully let go when the team won just 3 of its first 37 games in Season 2. In the mother of all understatements, Schmidt told UPI, "All-in-all, perhaps a change is for the best."

And that, sports fans, is how the Caps created a Sour Kraut.

Tom McVie (Coach, 1975-78)

Enter coach Tom McVie, hired, in his words, to "Rattle some cages." Because by the middle of their second season in 1975, the Capitals were so far down, they couldn't see up. A 25-game winless streak led players to expect, and accept, losing.

With little talent on the roster, McVie compensated with extreme conditioning. Players' (printable) nickname for the hard-driving McVie was "Simon" - as in Simon Legree, the cruel slave dealer in Uncle Tom's Cabin. One player termed his exhausting workouts "sick." McVie also employed motivation, playing military march music in the locker room; and trickery, alternating goalies every few minutes in one game, to keep them fresh against the onslaught of the powerful Canadiens in Montreal.

The results were a near miracle. In 1976-77, largely on hustle and team unity, the Caps earned 24 wins and 14 ties - more success than their first two seasons combined. McVie finished second in Coach of the Year balloting to Scotty Bowman, whose Montreal team lost just 8 games all year.

And if you think "near miracle" is too dramatic a description of the turnaround, well, the Canadiens didn't think so. After beating the Caps in the final game of the regular season, players from both teams spontaneously lined up for a playoff-style line of handshakes. It may be the only time that's ever happened in a regular season NHL game.

Don Cherry (Bruins Coach, 1974-79)

Depending on whom you ask in Canada, Don Cherry is a national treasure, an entertaining TV commentator, or a reactionary bigot. And, a Caps antagonist.

That's the Boston coach in the plaid sportscoat, but what's he doing? Post photog Richard Darcey captures Cherry confronting a heckler at Capital Centre.

Yes, Cherry actually climbed into the stands between periods of a 1978 game.

Cherry once smirked that his Bruins should wear leaded skates so the outmanned Caps could keep up. As he wrote in Hockey Stories and Stuff, Cherry received an angry response from Caps coach Tom McVie.

Never one to let sleeping controversies lie, the next time the teams met, Cherry whipped out the letter McVie had written and read it aloud in front of the Caps bench.

P.S.: Karma? His last NHL coaching job, one and done in Colorado: 19 wins, 48 losses.

Cherry came this close to another coaching job... with the Capitals! Abe Pollin was all set to hire him in 1981, until Bryan Murray so impressed Pollin during his interview that Murray landed the job instead.

Danny Belisle (Coach, 1978-79), Bruce Boudreau (Coach, 2007-11)

The Capitals quirky coaching history includes firing one Murray (Bryan) and hiring his brother (Terry), and employing the youngest coach in NHL history (Gary Green, 26). Best of all, two of their bench bosses appeared in the hockey movie classic, Slapshot.

Danny Belisle spent 13 undistinguished months as coach, winning 28 games, losing 51.

His brush with greatness came three years earlier. In the climactic scene, Reg Dunlop (Paul Newman) and his Chiefs are in a brawl. Evan Weiner of nhl.com points out, “You might recognize Belisle as the player absorbing Dunlop's blows (photo at left).”

Belisle explained, “We weren't assigned fight partners. I knew if I could get to Paul Newman, I'd get in the movie." Belisle also got his son a brief on-camera role as a stickboy.

Bruce Boudreau coached more than 1,000 minor league games before the Caps called him up in 2007. Years earlier, he landed a bit part in Slapshot, playing for Hyannisport. (He's Number 7 of the "Presidents" if you want to look for him.)

Boudreau told the Toronto Star, "I'm the little hog that stays in front of the net because I knew where the camera was."

Gary Green (Coach, 1979-81)

The early '80's being the disco era and all, a high profile twenty-something like Coach Gary Green can be excused for catching boogie fever. At least he did in this 1981 WTOP radio ad for the Capitals. So get your groove on to the rhythms of "Ain't No Stopping Us Now", accompanying Green's sales pitch. (The tagline is read by Phil Wood.) Derailed by goalie injuries and spotty play, Washington won just 7 of its final 28 games. Their push for the 16th and final playoff spot ultimately fell one point short, rendering the slogan good only for crying towels (below).

Things came full circle for Green that November, when the same circumstances that got him the Capitals job, caused him to lose it. He was summoned to Landover in 1979-80, when prior coach Danny Belisle won just 4 of 16 games. Two years later, Green's Caps had an even slower start, 1-12, and thus ended the only NHL job he'd ever have.

Don't feel bad for Gary, though. He's been an NHL TV voice for more than 25 years. And to think, his early work was reading ad copy alongside a disco record.

David Poile (General Manager, 1982-97)

Keeping Dad In The Dark

Even by pro sports front-office standards, David Poile had a reputation as tight-lipped. He left his own father in the dark when he discussed trades.

Keep in mind that "Bud" Poile wasn't just David's dad; Bud had been an NHL player and general manager himself. And a Hall of Famer.

Yet he told Kevin Allen of USA Today about one eventful summer day in 1982, when he shared a cab ride with his son.

As the elder Poile tells it, he asked, "Have you got anything going?" The Caps GM responded, "Not much. Just talk." Yeah, right. Mere hours later, David Poile finalized the biggest trade in Capitals history, bringing Rod Langway to Washington.

How did Bud Poile find out about the blockbuster deal engineered by his son? Oh, when he opened his sports section the next morning! Blood may be thicker than water, but not the ink on NHL trade documents. With David, it even extended to statistics...

Unlisted Numbers

The fiercest competition in pro sports isn't televised. Not on cable, satellite, or pay-per-view. No arena is necessary, because no tickets are sold. Yet the battles are bruising, often with lasting scars.

It's the competition known as Contract Negotiations. And the Capitals' front office of the 1980's looked for any edge. Take it from Ed Frankovic, who compiled statistics for the Caps, and told this to stormingthecrease.com:

"The coaches got the stats - the ice time, the face-offs, the hits. Those types of things weren't published, they weren't common knowledge.

"In fact, we were told by David Poile, the general manager, and the coaches, 'Don't let the players know what their ice times are, because this is sensitive information; the agents will use it for negotiating contracts.'"

These days, ordinary fans can pour over a wealth of statistics at the click of a mouse - even while a game's in progress . So it's revealing that these numbers were once guarded as state secrets.

The Brothers Murray

Bryan Murray (Coach, 1981-90)
Three knowledgeable sources weigh in on Capitals head coach Bryan Murray:

“Murray has a lot of the old hardboot in him”
  -- Toronto Star
“Murray, the notorious bench baiter”
  -- Philadelphia Daily News
“Don't make Murray angry. You wouldn't like him when he’s angry.”
  -- TV’s Incredible Hulk

Bryan never backed down during his decade in D.C., battling officials, other coaches, opposing players… heck, even one of his own players. Always, it’s fair to point out, amply supported by the courage of his convictions.

¨ Like his verbal sparring with the Islanders’ Duane Sutter - nicknamed "dog" for his continual yapping on the ice.

Between periods one night, as Murray left the bench, Sutter bumped him. Murray grabbed a linesman who’d seen the contact, irate that a penalty wasn’t assessed. Well, a penalty was assessed – against Murray, for touching an official.

¨ Murray spotted another official’s goof in October, 1985, when a New Jersey player was sprung from the penalty box a second early.

For protesting too vehemently, Murray was tossed from the game by referee Andy Van Hellemond. (Somewhere, Orioles Manager Earl Weaver felt his pain.)

¨ The 2-year anniversary of that ejection was commemorated with a more explosive dustup. At a home game against Buffalo, ref Bill McCreary whistled a bench minor when Bryan argued a call.

During intermission, Murray shouted down a hallway at McCreary. Soon, the coach and linesman Ron Asselstine were “exchanging harsh words and shoves.” The other linesman, fortunately skilled in pulling combatants apart, had to step in.

Nothing personal against this crew, you understand. The NHL socked Murray with a $1,000 fine several years earlier "for postgame shouting matches with referees Don Koharski and Ron Wicks." This time, both the coach and the linesman were suspended for three games.

¨ Late in a 1984 playoff game, Murray thought the Flyers were throwing goons on the ice to mix it up (nah, really?).

Philly coach Bob McCammon and Murray “shouted at each other, pointing fingers in obvious fury.” When McCammon yelled about the Caps lacking guts, Murray told him, “We do have a few on the ice, and behind the bench.”

¨ Murray wouldn’t abide a lack of heart, which caused a high-profile divorce with former wunderkind Bobby Carpenter. Oh, at the beginning they had gotten along just swell. Bobby: “Mr. Murray is a real good coach.” Bryan: "I could play him 40 minutes and he wouldn't complain." That was in 1981, when both were NHL rookies.

By early in the ’86-’87 season, "I had 56 meetings with him last year and 15 more this season," said the exasperated coach. The issue: "his (un)willingness to go to the net."

After being suspended and eventually traded, a defiant Carpenter said, “I'm glad I didn't listen to him." A neutral observer, Detroit GM Jim Devellano, knew who had taken the high road. "Carpenter went out of his way to embarrass Bryan Murray."

So despite all the heat-of-battle fireworks, Murray’s legacy remains one to be proud of. As USA Today’s Kevin Allen wrote in a 2007 profile, “He has respect around the league for his dignified approach to coaching.”

(Additional Sources: Wash. Post, LA Times, Phi. Inquirer, Boston Globe, AP)

Changing Of The Guard
By his 9th season as Capitals coach, no one knew quite how tenuous Bryan Murray’s job was – except Bryan Murray.

Sure, it figured the hot seat was warming underneath him. Murray compiled an outstanding .572 winning percentage between 1981-90, plus coach of the year honors in 1984. Yet, nary a trip to the conference finals.

Still, players, media and fans thought Murray had signed a two-year extension – because that’s what General Mgr. David Poile told them. Only he and Murray knew the leash was really much, much shorter.

As reported in the L.A. Times, Murray agreed to the deception, "So players wouldn't be under the impression I was at the whim of them playing well or not playing well."

It didn’t matter. After a midseason 8-game losing streak in 1990, Bryan became ex-coach of the Capitals.

Like the phantom contract, what happed next surprised everyone – except Bryan Murray. Poile replaced him with the team’s AHL coach, younger brother Terry.

"I was tremendously pleased, despite everybody saying everything, that Terry got the job," Bryan told the AP. "Terry and I talked in the years leading up to when it happened, that, as a coach, you don't last forever. And that he would hopefully be the guy given the opportunity.”

Terry Murray (Coach, 1990-94)

Since Terry Murray was 8 years younger, brother Bryan often doubled as mentor.

Bryan was Terry’s high school basketball coach. When defenseman Terry signed with the Capitals in 1981-82, Bryan was his last NHL coach. In 1983, Terry began 5 seasons as Bryan’s assistant behind the D.C. bench.

The relationship changed in January, 1990. According to the L.A. Times, when Terry agreed to replace Bryan as Caps coach, he called his older brother. “‘Bryan, I'm really sorry the way things have turned out for you.’ He said, 'Hey, I had a good run at it and now it's your time.'"

Bryan had sacrificed wins to groom a new crop of young players. That paid off, as Terry guided the Capitals to playoff wins over the Devils and Rangers, and a trip to the conference finals for the first time in franchise history.

For 3 of his 5 season as Capitals coach, Terry went head to head with Bryan, then coach/GM in Detroit. "I get excited coaching against him," Terry told AP. "We're competitive people, so I'm sure he wants to beat me as much as I want to beat him. I want to prove he taught me a few things."

Bryan later had a deadpan response: "What does he know? He's the younger brother."

Coaching Brothers: Epilogue

Sibling rivalry? Naturally; sibling tension? No way. "We're not going to let anyone drive a wedge between us," Terry Murray once said. "Bryan and I have gone through enough of that bleep in Washington."

More bleep happened in January, 1994, when David Poile fired his second Murray brother.

Amazingly, Terry would follow Bryan as coach of another NHL franchise four years later. But that was OK, because the person hiring him was… Bryan Murray, who was also GM of the Florida Panthers, and wanted to step away from the dual role of coach!

Bryan Murray told the Philadelphia Daily News that Terry worked so hard, "Even I have to make an appointment to see him."

Robert Fachet (Capitals Beat Writer, 1974-88)

On mornings after a Capitals victory, I would rush to retrieve the Washington Post from our doorstep, so I could enjoy Robert Fachet's game story.

Here's a 1974 sample: "Cancel the plane to Buffalo. The Washington Capitals were flying so high last night they could make the trip without one. After 14 winless games and 33 days without a victory, they whipped the California Golden Seals, 6-4."

As you can infer, wins weren't always plentiful in the 14 seasons Fachet covered the Caps. And there's no more miserable assignment in sports journalism than being the beat writer for a bad team. Bob deserved a purple heart (purple typewriter ribbon?) for having to come up with new ways to report that the Caps had lost a game.

Fortunately, Bob was up to the task - never more so than the opening paragraph to his story for March 20, 1975:

"Greek mythology records the plight of Sisyphus, who pushed a huge stone to a mountain summit. Watched it roll down and has to repeat his task for eternity. It does not record whether he wears a Washington Capitals' uniform."

Like all us long-time fans, Bob never shook his addiction to the Capitals. He attended many games even after he was no longer the team's beat writer.

When Fachet died in 1998, his Post obituary included glowing praise from Rod Langway. "You talk about respect, he got it around the league. He did a lot for hockey in the Washington area."

Larry King (Landover, Maryland, Hello!)

Three decades and several hundred pairs of suspenders ago, Larry King became enamored with the Capitals.

King adopted the team soon after moving to Washington in 1978, to host a national all-night radio show.

A trading card, at right, even anointed him as the team's "Celebrity Captain." (Sample pep talk: "Win tonight, boys, and tomorrow we go to Duke Zeibert's and the corned beef sandwiches are on me!")

Oh, and if Larry had ever written one of his USA Today columns about the Capitals, it would have read something like this:
"That Langway fellow is a keeper... At Capital Centre, try the soft-serve ice cream by portal 9. Delicious!... Call me crazy, but I like the red line... Whatever happened to Pete Laframboise?... Gotta love a player whose surname means "The Raspberry" in French..."

Larry fed his Caps fix by sitting in with Ron Weber on radio broadcasts, and did color and interviews for regional sports cable channel HTS. In 1980, the first hockey guest ever on Mutual Radio's "Larry King Show" was Capitals head coach Gary Green. Just months earlier, Green, at 26, became the youngest coach in NHL history. In the clip at left, Green explains how he fudged his age when applying for the coach's job with a Canadian junior team. If he hadn't landed that job with the Peterborough Petes - and made a name for himself by winning two titles - the Capitals would have never come calling.

Marv Brooks (P.A. Announcer, 1974-95)

Marv Brooks got the job as Voice of Capital Centre, by pretending he already was.

Washington listeners were already familiar with Brooks’ booming voice as a DJ at WPGC radio. He also built a home recording studio for his freelance voiceover work.

“Word came out that Abe Pollin was building the Cap Centre in 1973,” recalled Marv’s wife, Lynn. “Marv made an audition tape, complete with echo, crowd noises and cheers.” (amandfmmorningside.com)

Brooks won courtside & rinkside seats as P.A. announcer at the new arena. Brooks also did interviews shown for fans on the TelScreen, like the one at left with Ron Lalonde.

Through the mid '90's, Brooks had the happy task of being heard over cheering fans, “Capitals Goal, Scored By…”

Ron Weber (Radio Broadcaster, 1974-97)

For a generation of Washington hockey listeners, winter nights were warmed by Ron Weber's folksy radio play-by-play.

At Capital Centre, Weber broadcast from a desk built into the stands - fitting, because Weber was a fan's announcer. He conveyed the feel of the game, rather than every meaningless neutral-zone pass.

In that first game in New York, Jimmy Anderson was behind the bench, and Weber was in the broadcast booth.

Anderson was gone after 54 games, while Weber lasted an amazing 23 years. That kind of statistical note would no doubt please Weber, who peppered his broadcasts with arcane numbers and obscure facts. At left are pages from one of Ron's game-night notebooks. Included are box scores of that year's games, plus trivia on every conceivable historical topic concerning the Caps and their opponents.

As Ron told CSN (audio above), that notebook was compiled in a grueling training camp before the start of every season. Weber said because he didn't play the game, he felt unqualified to give analysis. So he substituted voluminous research. (Loyal listeners knew he was selling himself short; Weber had more than enough hockey smarts.) His nickname among the team was “Stats.” And for anyone who wonders why, listen to Ron put the notebook to use. This audio clip at right comes from a 1976 game vs. Montreal.

Certainly, no one knew the team better, or cared about their fortunes more deeply. During that awful 1974 season, the Capitals were in Toronto – and on the verge of their long-awaited first road victory. The Leafs tied the score with under 2 minutes to play, then scored the game-winner in the final 10 seconds.

That cannonball to the gut was too much to bear. After dutifully announcing the goal, Weber didn’t say another word for more than a minute.

On happier occasions, Weber was fond of trotting out his catch-phrases, such as calling the puck the "little black biscuit." Or after a timely goal, "Way to go, Miss Twiddle." I never heard him explain what, if anything, that meant. But it represented the unassuming, folksy style that wore well year after year.


That is, until the team moved from USAirways Arena to MCI Center, and Weber wasn't asked to come along. It should have mattered that Weber was the only person to have seen all 1,939 Capitals games up to that time.

Winnipeg was almost his Waterloo, twice. One time, he walked a mile to the arena in -70 degree wind chill. Another time there, he suffered a torn retina. Neither time did he miss the puck drop. Ron's streak also once survived this nightmare flight itinerary:
San Jose - Las Vegas - San Jose - Calgary - Edmonton!

But dedication didn't count. With a move to a hip downtown arena, management apparently felt Weber would be brown shoes to their new tuxedo.

What a tone-deaf decision. Hometown announcers don't become legendary because of their technical skills or "attitude". Fans appreciate how they've been there through thick and thin, and their quirks become embraceable "signatures."

Weber was the Caps, and I miss hearing him.

Good Things Come To Those Who Wait Dep't.:

For 13 years after his final sign-off, Ron Weber received an outpouring of affection from fans who ran into him at Verizon Center. Then, that adoration was confirmed by no less than the Hockey Hall of Fame. Weber was named 2010 winner of the Foster Hewitt Memorial Award, presented by the NHL Broadcasters’ Association. Long ago, Ron had unwillingly earned another unofficial title: Patron Saint of Lost Sportscasting Causes. Ron explains it with good humor in a WQIC-FM interview.