Rick Dudley survived in the beginning only because he
was a goon. At 19 he could barely stand on skates, but he could beat up anyone he wanted,
so hockey teams kept him around. But soon Dudley discovered there was no future for thugs
and although some coaches tried to discourage him he actually learned to play hockey. He
learned well enough that at 27 his six figure salary from the Cincinnati Stingers is
considered justified. Dudley still fights of course. In the Stingers two exhibition games
this season he's been in two knock-down-drag-outs. But he does other things too, and he
says, "I hope I never again in my hockey career get called a goon."
Dudley's problem in the beginning was that, unlike other young
Canadians in Toronto, he didn't grow up on skates. He shunned hockey in favor of baseball
and football and ultimately lacrosse at which he became most proficient. Lacrosse suited
him. "I suppose I was in at least one fight every lacrosse game I ever
played,"he says with a smile. "It's a rough game." To prepare, the e6 foot,
190 pound Dudley took boxing lessons from Jim Differy, an ex-pro and a good friend.
"I had a buddy, a black guy about 6-3 and 235 pounds," Dudley remembers.
"We used to get in the ring and just pound the hell out of each other. You do that
long enough, you really get mean." So at age 19, that was Dudley's qualification - he
was mean.
"A good friend of mine had a junior league hockey team and he
told me. ' Why don't you come down and try out' ," Dudley explains. " I told
him, 'naw' and he said, 'come on', so I went. I couldn't even stand up on skates. But I
could fight. A guy slashed my ankles with his stick and I hobbled over into the corner and
beat the pulp out of him. They signed me right there." Dudley played just 26 games in
the juniors before Minnesota drafted him and taught him at least to skate. "I'd spent
most of my time on the bench in the juniors," Dudley admits. "I just came off to
fight. I didn't know anything about hockey."
Dudley subsequently drifted from the Iowa Stars to the Cleveland
Barons and finally the Flint Michigan Generals trying to survive on just his brutality.
"In Flint, I figured my career was just about over," Dudley reports. "But
my coach was great. I really worked hard for him and he couldn't understand why I couldn't
make it. He called around and got me a tryout with the Buffalo Sabres."
The Sabres sent him to the old Cincinnati Swords for a five-game
trial. In his first game here, he KO'd two opponents and scored two goals. He went on to
record 280 minutes in the penalty box that year and Cincinnatians loved it. "They
told me I was bringing in 2,000 people a game just to see me," he says. "But
they were paying me $6,500 a year and offered me a $1,500 raise. That's when I figured
being a goon was no way to make a living." Dudley was now 23. "I really started
working hard trying to learn the game," he says. "I still didn't know anything
about it. I didn't know what a wing was supposed to do. I played with Billy Inglis and he
helped me a lot. He was a smart player."
The following year for the Swords, Dudley reduced his penalty
minutes to 159 and increased his point production from 29 the year before to 84. Buffalo
called him up for the play-offs that year and he was suddenly in the major leagues to
stay. He subsequently jumped to Cincinnati for several reasons. One was that Buffalo coach
Joe Crozier still thought of him as a thug. "At some point, I knew I was more than
just a goon," Dudley declares. "I don't mind fighting. You have to fight. But I
hated sitting on the bench for two periods and then being sent in just to fight someone.
It's ridiculous."
The Stingers recognized Dudley's ability however, and offered him a
contract they thought matched it. He accepted, but went on to play the next year, which
was last year, with the Sabres, awaiting Cincy's start in the WHA. That last season Dudley
scored 70 points but never quite convinced Buffalo. "My salary there last year was
$22,000," he says bitterly. "They must have been happy to get 70 points for
$22,000." Back in Cincinnati now, Dudley hopes he will be recognized for something
more that his fisticuffs. He says once more, "I don't ever again want to be known as
a goon." |